The misadventures of a first time father

Tag Archives: Diaper Changes

Cloth Diapers 01When we were having our son more than 3 years ago and Meg brought up the topic of cloth diapers, I kept an open mind, but admit, my lack of knowledge on the subject made me pretty darn skeptical.

We tried , but as with many things that go with the whirlwind of a first child, it didn’t exactly go as planned and after a few attempts, ended up going the route of disposable diapers until he was out of them and into big boy undies.

When our little girl arrived four months ago, we had decided to try again. While I still was slightly skeptical, I realized this time that any skepticism was mostly due, once again, to my inexperience with cloth diapers.

I had questions

But how do you wash them?

What do you do with the poop?

Is this sanitary?

I had a lot of questions. But, as with many things when a second child comes around, parents find themselves a little more at ease having been through it before. So, this time, as my wife was determined to make this commitment, I was determined to learn more and get on board with it.

Learning Curve

It took a few diaper changes to learn how, but man, was this learning curve easy. We’re not talking about the old cloth diapers from the old Disney and Looney Tunes shorts with a wrap of white cloth and a baby pin. No, no, no. Those still exist, but truly, I can’t believe how far cloth diapers have come. The material, the styles, the sheer variety (pre-fold, pockets, all-in-one – all phrases I never thought I would know, let alone use) is mind-boggling.

We stocked up in an effort to be prepared, because if you’re going to do this, you’re going to need quite a few. Think about how many diapers you go through in the course of a day, then think about if you had to wash and wait for each to dry before using.

Yeah.

Cloth Diapers 02So, there’s a lot of bins filled with these patterned and colorful diapers that look a bit like a bin of Easter eggs. As I say, variety, variety, variety.

I was certainly game and as I say, the changing of them was a quick learn. Unsnap/unbutton (yes, they have buttons/snaps these days!), fold up, put into a vinyl diaper bag (instead of the trash), wipe as normal, and then put a nice, new, cushy cloth diaper on those little buns. And voila, we’re changed! That vinyl bag of diapers fills up over time and when it’s full, the diapers get washed, dried, and if the weather’s nice, put out in the sun for some added sunkissed sanitation and whitening.

Of course, I’m still going to admit how new this is to me. I have not yet actually done a load of these cloth diapers in the wash yet. Meg has. So I am sure there is a whole other layer to this I’ve yet to explore in my ignorance. But I will say that in terms of the changing, it’s been a piece of cake.

The proof is in the pudding…er…in the poop

The true test, though…what really pushed me over the edge and on  board…was, well quite, frankly, the poop.

Like so many babies, our little lady has had her fair share of blowouts in the first few months of her life. You know what i mean. It goes everywhere. Up the front, up the back. Everywhere. And I can’t tell you how many outfits have had poop go right through, calling for a whole new cleaning and outfit.

But, knock on wood, not when she’s been wearing her cloth diapers. I certainly can’t rattle off the brand names to you, as I don’t know them all, but I have noticed the little tags on them while I’ve changed, and two that spring to mind are Thirsties and BumGenius cloth diapers. And these things are thick. Thick, yet soft. And puffy. And based on every time I’ve had to change a blowout diaper, I would take a cloth diaper over disposable to handle those explosions any day of the week. They absorb, they keep it all in, just where it’s supposed to be, leaving daddy to just wipe and change the diaper versus wipe, change the diaper, wash her and change an entire outfit that got soaked through.

I am all about this.

I now find myself a father and husband completely on board with the idea of cloth diapers.

They’re soft, they’re re-usable, and man, do they absorb and hold in so much more than the disposables. We all have our fair share of baby blowouts and I feel pretty confident now in saying that in those blowout moments, I’d much rather have her in a cloth diaper than a disposable, keeping in everything we don’t want getting out (if you know what I mean).

Things will change

Thirsties DiaperAnd yeah, once she reaches the stage of solid foods and stops nursing, things will change – as poop from a breastmilk-only diet is water soluable, that solid-food poop – not so much. That will mean trips to the potty before the diapers can be washed to dump out each diaper and spray it with water when the time comes. So will I be singing the same tune then? I hope so, but, I admit, we will see when the time comes.

Don’t mistake my appreciation for a full-on lifestyle change or an implication that anyone else needs to feel the same way. As I’ll be honest, we still use disposable diapers during the overnight hours, we still use them at grandma’s house, and we still use them when we’re not at home and out and about.

It’s a balance.

But, the mere fact that they are an option to us, allowing us (if even a little) to cut back on how much we spend, how much we add to the trash pile, and to really soak up those baby poops a little better, I’m all for.

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uno-deep-dishI took my son out to dinner recently, just he and I.

My wife had the opening night of her recent play and he and I were having a guys’ night out. Partly, I did this as a bit of a test, to see how both he and I did on our own without mommy around. With all the trouble he’s been having falling asleep without my wife being home, I thought it might be a good exercise to try ourselves out and about and see how we do.

I’m glad to say things went relatively well. Well, he did well, anyway.

I took him to Uno because of all the places my wife and I have taken him to, that one seems to be where he does the best. I don’t know if it’s the decor, the coloring, or just the blonde waitress we always seem to run into there who he smiles and giggles at incessantly, like a 14 year old waiting to ask her out on a date. I have no clue. Regardless, it has done us good in the past.

We got a high chair, some crayons, and he and I were set. I ordered myself a mini/single size deep dish pizza and him some mac and cheese. (I know. For a family that tries hard to eat healthy, I really blew it on this venture.) Our waiter was great, very friendly, and when he realized the people around us who arrived after us had gotten their food before we did, he was like lightning into the kitchen to figure it out. Good guy.

Of course, during that wait, the little guy did need a little something to tide him over while we sat. Luckily, we had a box of organic raisins in his bag, so he had a few of those while we alternated between coloring on the place mat, reading his little board books, and me drawing him pictures on the napkin of Santa, The Count, Batman and Robin (now THAT’S a Justice League book I’d read).

I really can’t tell you too much about what was going on around us because, truth be told, I was completely and utterly engrossed in my boy. We talked, we read, we played, we drew, although we did talk to a nice middle-aged couple who were seated next to us and he kept smiling at. They told us seeing him made them want grandchildren, which I thought was very sweet.

So the food came and I moved back and forth between bites of my pizza and serving up small pieces (he probably could handle bigger, but I’m paranoid, so I cut them smaller anyway) of his mac and cheese to him. Suddenly, in the middle of our dinner he starts going, in that tiny little voice “uh-oh…uh-oh…uh-oh…” and grabbing his bum and front. I ask him if he needs a diaper change to which he replies, almost desperately, “uh-huh.”

I scooped him up, grabbed some wipes and a diaper and off to the bathroom we headed. The kind couple next to us was nice enough to watch our things while we were gone.

Here’s where the first snag of our night came about, though. We walked into the men’s room and I could find no changing station. So, there we were amid sinks, urinal, toilet and a floor. The restaurant was packed, so there were no options in there, and my car is tiny and has a car seat taking up a ton of space, so that’s out.

So, I did the only thing I could think of – I grabbed paper towels out of the dispenser, him in my arms, and laid them out on that bathroom floor to create some kind of ‘germ barrier,’ even if such a thing exists only in my mind. I laid him down, very careful with his head against the hard tiles and just began the diaper change, hoping that no one was going to walk in on us there, in the middle of the floor of this tiny bathroom at Uno changing a diaper.

I couldn’t believe how good the little guy was for me while I did this. Maybe he sensed how awful I felt about having to do this there, and what a terrible father I felt like for not having a better solution.

I emailed Uno about it via their website. I made sure to tell them that at our particular Uno, the service and food is always great. We’ve never had any service or product issues there, and I didn’t want it to seem otherwise. I was just concerned about other dads who may have been in a similar situation.

Well, within a day, they emailed me back, and boy did I feel like an idiot.

There WAS a changing table in there, it was just in the handicapped stall, where I never even thought to look. I replied, apologizing for my lack of investigating during the actual incident. They wrote back and told me there was no need to, and said maybe better signage might be needed.

I feel like such an idiot. It was there all the time and here I was, frantically changing my son on a bathroom floor.

Oy.

All cleaned and changed, I wiped his hands, arms and anything else that might have also touched the bathroom floor, and back to dinner we went. Before we knew it, we were all done, him handing me back his plate and putting his arms up in the air – his own little sign language he came up with himself for ‘i’m done’ ever since he was a little tiny guy.

We paid the bill (well, I did. I don’t think they’d take cuteness as currency. maybe. who knows?) and we were on our way, with him waving to every waitress and hostess at the front desk that he could manage before we made our way out the doors and into the car.

Still, the night was young and I knew the curtain wasn’t even going up on my wife’s play for another half an hour or so, meaning it would be hours before she came home. I needed a little more to tire the little guy out.

“Whattaya say, buddy?” I asked. “You wanta go look at books at Barnes and Noble?”

“Uh-huh” that tiny voice said back to me from the back seat.

And we were off to our next great guys night adventure and the misadventures that came with it.

But that’s another post.


© Copyright 2010 CorbisCorporationFile this one under ‘a close one.’

Improvisational rhyming in the house takes on a whole new level of caution once you become a parent.

Take, for instance, this ditty my wife and I were singing while our son sat on his little potty and ‘gave it a go’ recently…

ME: “We’re sittin’ on the potty, sittin’ on the potty…

HER: We’re gonna sit, sit, sit…

ME: Til’ we –

HER: (abruptly): Are done!


potty trainingI’ll spare you the more graphic details, I promise.

Suffice it to say, Santa brought the little guy a Baby Bjorn potty for Christmas and we’ve already started putting it to use.

While at first, he just wanted to carry it around the house and use it as a convenient chair when he wanted to sit down, we explained to him each time that it’s actually used for. (Sometimes using the term ‘poopies,’ ‘potty,’ or ‘uh-ohs,’ the phrase he has started using sometimes when he realizes he’s going to go to the bathroom.)

At one and a half, we honestly were not sure what he would understand or if any of it would make sense, but I think some of it has started to sink in. While I don’t see us ditching the diapers anytime soon, we have had a handful of incidents since Christmas (including one at grandma and grandpa’s) where he made it known that he wanted to use the potty. It sometimes involves carrying the potty out to grown-ups, going to it and pointing, or just grabbing his diaper. If we can act quick enough, off the diaper goes and we give it a try.

I know it sounds cliché, but it seems like it was only a week ago that we were in the hospital and I was changing those black-as-tar diaper messes of a newborn. Now, he’s letting me know when he has to go. The changes are coming and their coming fast.

And so this latest phase, the potty training, has begun in its own small way. While we’ve had a few successes so far,  I don’t want to get overly optimistic. I’m certainly hopeful, though. It would be nice if we can keep it up and keep the momentum flowing. (Bad use of words?)


It’s certainly been an interesting two weeks in the milestone department.

Just about two weeks ago, our little guy suddenly went from just rolling around on the floor (something we have to be careful of in our living room, as the previous owners just threw very thin carpeting over hardwood, with no padding between), to all of a sudden doing what could only be described as a combination of an army-crawl and the worm.

When he abruptly realized what he had done, it was only moments before he was doing it over and over again, to the point of making his way all the way around our large ottoman to find me hiding on the other side, and amusing himself thoroughly the entire time. Is there anything more heartwarming then the giggles of a baby?

I couldn’t believe it. He was mobile.

Little Guy IncrediblesHowever, reaching daddy was certainly only the beginning of this vast new world opening up in front of him, and that same night, he quickly found his way, all on his own, to one of our built-ins housing our DVDs, and pulled out Pixar’s “The Incredibles,” rolled himself on his back and just stared at it, ‘talking’ to Mr Incredibly and family in a myriad of noises for a good ten minutes or so.

It took only one week more for him to start finding the ability to move his knees and ditch the worm thrust that was getting him around. With that, we now have a fully-crawling baby on our hands. One that can sit up on his own, one that can make his way across the room, try to chase the kitties, and pull anything he can get his hands on out and all over the floor, be it cases, DVDs, papers, anything.

I think it’s time to start baby-proofing.


The little guy may only be 7 months, but he actually helped color the heart on this one.

My card from the little guy. While mommy did most of the work, he actually did help color in part of the heart.

I spent this Valentine’s Day with our little guy.

As we’re still battling the croup (and its  effects slowly making its way into mommy and daddy’s adult-sized bodies now), we’ve been alternating taking days from work so that someone can stay with the little guy at home while he’s sick and administer his nebulizer treatments.

Today was my day and we began with a bottle, something I realized I hadn’t done in quite some time because most of my time with the little man is at home, where he’s normally nursing right from mommy. She left us a good supply of milk in storage, though and that turned out to be a good thing, because he wasn’t keen on eating his solids today. We tried his rice cereal, he wouldn’t have it. We tried his Stage Two Pears from Earth’s Best and he wanted nothing to do with those.

Mommy’s milk, though? Man, THAT he wanted.

You can definitely tell that he’s sick, and I’m not just talking about the coughing fits. Usually when I set him down in his roller-walker while we’re in the kitchen, he loves it. He’s been moving from one end of the kitchen to the other in that thing, his little legs going as fast as he can. This time, though, I wasn’t able to get a few feet away from him to prepare his bottle without I’m getting very uncomfortable and upset.

So, we spent most of our day on the couch. Talking, having a bottle, playing with toys, and eventually, napping. Of course, he was falling asleep right in my arms, and him being as sick as he was, I wasn’t about to move him. So, we spent most of our day planted right there on the couch, unless the situation called for a diaper change or more milk, of course.

I prepared beforehand though, and had a series of remotes within my reach, along with pad and paper for writing if inspiration struck. Mostly, though, while he slept, I watched cartoons on Netflix and DVD.

When my wife came home at the end of the day, I think she was relieved to see that we were both not only alive, but that there was minimal damage to the house or us, save for a few globs of pureed pear that I was wearing on my sweatshirt.

It was a Valentine’s Day like no other, that is for sure, but aside from him being sick, we were all together as a family, and the day was definitely all about love. We wouldn’t have it any other way. 🙂


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A typical day’s to-do list

I live by lists, I admit it.

Every day, my planner is filled with a myriad of “to-dos” that I set out to try and accomplish, be they personal, work, phone calls, writing projects, blog posts, catching up on e-mail replies, or just things around the house. There’s a great feeling of accomplishment to be had when you cross something off your list and know that it’s done and complete and you don’t have to worry about it again, unless it’s a recurring task.

It’s a habit I got into back in high school, around 10th or 11th grade. An assignment from one of our teachers was to go out and buy a planner. The type didn’t matter, as long as it worked for you. Then, for the rest of the year (and the following year if you had that teacher, Mr. Hanley, again), you were to keep track of all your appointments, schedules, assignments and more. The purpose was to help us become better organized individuals before college. I can’t speak for anyone else in the class, but it definitely ended up working for me, and quickly became a habit that I carried over into college and then onward to the rest of my life.

In fact, at this point each year, I find myself doing the annual purchase of a new planner for the upcoming year. You don’t need anything expensive. While I’ve seen planners that are in the double digits, I frequently find mine at any $1 store. Another year, another 365 days of lists, of projects, of things to do.

Suddenly, though, I find things are changing a bit.

Sure, I’m still writing out my lists the night before of what I want to get done the following day or in the days ahead. Yes, I’m still typically piling as much into those lists as possible, as I always seem to have way too many things on the burner to handle at once. What has changed, though, is how much gets crossed off them.

What, in years past, would equate to me burning the midnight oil and running myself ragged to accomplish every single thing on the list, has dwindled. The lists are the same, but usually I average only a few things, some days only one, on those lists. A lot has happened in those times between then and now. I’ve graduated college, I’ve been in the same career field for more than five years, I’ve gotten married, and we’ve had our son. All life changing experiences that come with their own built-in responsibilities.

So it shouldn’t have come as so much of a surprise to me when the “crossed off” items on my lists were becoming so few each day. Initially, it would make me annoyed, some times a little depressed. “How is it I used to accomplish so much and now feel that I accomplish so little?!” I would think to myself. I would even try to cram as much as possible into the weekends because so much time, between work and home life was eaten up during the weekdays and weeknights.

I used to think when a weekend concluded and I hadn’t crossed everything off my to-do list that time had been wasted. Now, though, I realize it’s just more time spent with my wife and son, and that’s never a waste of time.

You only live once. Don’t get caught up in the to-dos of a list that won’t stand the test of time when you can be investing in the greatest commodity you have, your loved ones.



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