Here lies the third and final (for now) installment of “too mainstream to be hippie, too hippie to be mainstream” (aka trying to figure out where we fit into this whole “parenting” thing).
There’s nothing like a cloth diaper sticking out of a onesie or an amber necklace or a toddler who has never seen Finding Nemo to scream, “HIPPIE MOMMY HERE!” So let’s chat about bums, necks, and TV-induced brain rot.
ON CLOTH DIAPERING: Okay, so I’ve been a pretty big cloth diaper proponent up until the last month or so. I swear, Willem’s, ahem, output is just not being contained anymore. We go through three, sometimes four outfits in a single day due to wetness. Our newest experiment is doubling up the diaper pads, which makes him look like an extra straight out of Sir Mix-a-Lot’s “I Like Big Butts” video. So far, it seems to be working; will report back.
When I told Chris I was considering the possibility that we’d need to move to disposable diapers soon, his response was, “If you had seen the diaper I changed the other day, you’d already be running to the store for diapers.” I think he’s still traumatized.
ON AMBER NECKLACES: Maybe once Willem starts teething and I’m desperate for something, anything to help us get through it, I’ll feel differently about the ubiquitous hippie mama amber necklace. For now, the science just doesn’t back up the claims of soothing teething pain enough for me to insert this beautiful choking/strangulation hazard into our lives. No judgment whatsoever for those using amber beads, for real – I have a lot of friends who swear by them. For us, it’s a no.
ON “SCREEN TIME”: When Willem was first born (okay, let’s be real, for the first four weeks of his life at least), I was a Netflix junky. The TV was on ALL. THE. TIME. Because I was a sweaty, hormonal, exhausted mess just trying to keep it together, and I spent more time on the couch, nursing my son and eating Pop Tarts, than anywhere else. We’re talking, “I made it through 7 seasons of the Deadliest Catch” Netflix-junky-level. Oh, yeah. Shit just got real in this here blog.
Nowadays, the TV is hardly ever on when Willem is awake, but this winter? When football season starts? We’ll see what happens then.
Willem at 1.5 weeks old. I somehow look pretty coherent here. What I’m thinking: wha…? Where am I? Who are these people? What is this baby doing here? Am I awake or asleep? Can we go back in time to when I was pregnant so I can just have one more full night’s sleep?
When it comes right down to it, I just can’t get my undies in a bunch over screen time. We’ve Skyped with faraway relatives, and when he’s super extra crazy fussy, 10 minutes of Finding Nemo gives mommy a much-needed break. I can’t imagine his synapses are getting that jacked up from 10 minutes of THE SWEETEST MOVIE EVER.
I think that sums up the latest in my quest to figure out who the hell I am as a mom. For me, it comes down to “live and let live.” If it’s working for you and your baby, awesome. If it’s working for me and my baby, I will never assume it’s the best for anyone else. I’m thankful for the good days and the minor successes, and I’m getting better at taking the tough stuff in stride.
And I love my kid with all my heart, so that certainly makes all of it worth it and perhaps one of the coolest times of my life.