Week 51: Practically an Adult

Sorry for the one-week hiatus, Chunkin.

Mama's been a bit busy.

Started a new job.
Planned a baby shower.
Been crafting and planning for quite a milestone birthday for a special little lady.

But, don't you worry though.
I'm on top of your weekly updates.

Because we only *gulp* have two more left.

Oh.my.goodness.

I'm quite surprised that I'm not super emotional.
I'm just too excited.
It's fun to have an *almost* one year old.

You surprise us every single day with something new.

Like your first day of daycare last week.
It was the first time *ever* that we have left you with someone besides family.
Mom was a bit nervous.
Because, you don't always do well with strangers.
But, when I went to pick you up, Miss Diane's exact words were, "She was so perfect".
She's said that every day since.

Or how you smoosh your face into our chests.
Or the chair.
Or the floor.
And start making snorting noises.

And, then there are our super-cheese-ball proud moments.
We get so excited and proud over little accomplishments you've made.
Things that *ahem* many other babies your age have been doing for a while.
Like, you've finally started sitting up from lying down.
We walked into your room one evening, and there you were.
In your crib.
Sitting up.
We walked in, and you started laughing and clapping.

So proud.

Your crib seems to be your safe zone.
Where you practice all of your tricks.
You don't like to try new things while we are watching.
You absolutely will not show off for strangers.
But you prefer to work on your skills by yourself.
Until you feel comfortable enough to show them off for us.

Pretty sweet.

And you love practicing pulling up.
You go up.
And down.
And up.
And down.

And you beg us to help you walk all the time now.
You scoot your way over and start trying to climb on us.
Then you lift your arms up and fuss until we pick you up to hold your hands to "walk".
You're taking quite the giant steps.
And even try to let go to do it by yourself.

We're getting there.
Slowly Steadily.

And then something quite amazing happened this week.
You have started pretending.
It's the cutest thing I've ever seen.
And it pretty much has GiGi and Pops in awe.

It started when Pops put out his hand, palm up.
You looked down at it and acted like you were eating food out of his palm.
So, GiGi tried to get you to do it for me when I picked you up.

Sure enough.
You pretended to eat "snacks" out of her palm.
I laughed so hard, I was practically crying.
I couldn't get home fast enough to show Daddy.
You even make little chewing and chomping noises while you do it.

Adorable.

It's quite ridiculous, really.
The little things that excite me so.
They're what make me realize that I'm officially a mom.
And possibly lame?

Don't care.
I'm lovin it.

Um.
Ignore the our brown door with the white trim.
Work-in-progress.

Week 50: Where'd the Baby Go?

Hmm.
I'm not exactly sure what happened here.

The title of this post is quite telling of this past week.
Metaphorically and literally.
*I love when that happens.*

I found myself asking the same question over and over.
Where did my baby go?

I've had to do some double-takes lately.
You just seem older.
More mature, even.

Maybe it's the sweet tendrils that grew in overnight.
Or the way you lose your temper when you don't get something you want.
Or the way you surprise me with a kiss when I least expect it.
Or the way you point at your books when you want me to read a story.
Or the way you get so proud when you achieve a new little task.

Well you better believe I'm going to enjoy these last two weeks of baby-dom.

But then you go and do something to keep me on my toes.
Like last week.
I sat you down in the living room with your pots, pans, and measuring cups.
*Your favorites.*
And I went into the kitchen for 2 minutes.
TWO MINUTES.

I came back into the living room.
And you were gone.
I'm not kidding.
I couldn't find you.

Luckily, it took about 5 seconds before I heard you.
You meandered your way behind the chair.
I caught you playing with the AC vent.

I'm still not sure how you got there.
Booty-scooted, maybe?

Regardless.
I underestimated your "immobility".

Time to baby-proof, I guess.

About time.
Only took 11 Months.

Speaking of mobility.
I'm quite impressed with your creativity.
Because although you don't crawl, you sure manage to *quickly* get to wherever you want.
Key word = want.
And only then do you show off your skills.

I have to say.
I admire those decision making skills.
Girlfriend knows what she wants.
Mama can't even decide between Downy and Snuggles.

Oh!
And you're making such progress in pulling up.
You just need a *wee* bit of assistance.
And you are actually taking steps.
You hold onto us, of course.
But this is the first time that you've really been able to lift your little legs to step on your own.

And you sure love your sweet little cheerleader position.
It's my your favorite way to sit.

And how could I forget?
Your daddy came home from a work conference.
He had been gone for one week.
You were playing on the floor with Samson and Mommy.
You heard the keys rattle in the door.
You immediately stopped and waited in complete silence.

Dad opened the door.
You looked up and squealed, "Da-Da, Da-Da, Da-Da"!!!

I've never seen your dad smile so big.
There was an extra bounce in his step for the next solid week.

Then.
Your Auntie Laur and Uncle D made a last-second stop in Wichita.
For a way-too-brief 24 hours.

They currently live in Uganda.
So this short trip was quite the pleasant surprise.

Auntie Laur is very special to Mom.
We've been friends since kindergarten.
We've won spelling bees together.
Started an eraser club.
Shaved our legs for the first time together.
Were *sadly* known for our glitter eyeshadow.
Sobbed for an hour straight in the Panera parking lot before leaving for different colleges.
Stood by one another in each of our weddings.

Since the day you were born, I've prayed that you are blessed with a friend like her.

Needless to say, Mama was VERY excited to see your auntie.
Spent the whole day together.
Trying to catch each other up on the past six months of life.
While the husbands talked man things.
And your dad got to show off his brewing skills.

Later that night, Mama had a proud moment.
I was actually feeling spontaneous.
Daring even.
And, I did something completely out of character.

I woke you up from a deep sleep.
So you could open your very first early birthday gift.

This next picture is an absolute treasure.
It is a fun reflection of so many things.

History of a 25 year friendship. 
Energy we've always been known for. 
Dazed and confused *almost* one year old.
Proud *spontaneous* mama.
Two of the most precious gals in my life.

You're a lucky little lady, Ly.

Metaphors and alliteration all in one post.
You're welcome.

Mission Accomplished: Finding Me

This summer, I've actually had time. 

Time to seek balance.
Time to reflect and think. 

*So much time to think, that I decided to inadvertently quit my job.* 

A decision that is completely out of character. 

Thus, supporting the general theme of this post. 

I have mentioned on many occasions, the struggle I had with going back to work after having Lyla.

An all-too-familiar feeling that most moms have after maternity leave. 

Many mamas adjust by making more-flexible career changes.
Others love their jobs and find joy in the balance it provides. 

And a few lucky ones leave the workforce all together. 

While most have to stick it out because they have no other choice. 

Needless to say, last year was hard.

One of the most difficult times I've ever faced, in fact. 

There were many variables that made it so painful. 

But I'm going to focus on one variable in particular:

My struggle with the question, "Who Am I?"

First, allow me to introduce myself. 

Hi.

I'm Angela. 

A hard-working, high-achieving, people-pleasing, perfect-seeking, social butterfly who is trying to figure out this whole working mom thing and how to overcome a serious overcommitment problem.

(Yes I said working mom. As in present tense. I'll get back to that). 

Let me start by focusing on who I am as a person. 

At my core. 

Coincidentally, Gabe came home from a work conference a couple nights ago, and he couldn't wait to share about a tool he used throughout the week. 

He wanted to perform an in-depth personality test on me. (The same test the F.B.I. uses to profile people). 

My results are *always* the same with these assessments.
And this test was no different.  

I was labeled primarily as an "I" or "Influential". 

"Outgoing, magnetic, warm, enthusiastic, at-times impulsive, motivated by friendship and social recognition, fears disapproval, seeks popularity, and weakness is overcommitment."

Yep. 

Spot on. 

Except it didn't say anything about being a sometimes-Type-A perfectionist.
{That part was in my secondary profile match.}

But I'd like to take a minute to focus on those primary characteristics.
Those are me.
In a nice, packaged little nutshell.

Except they went missing for quite awhile.
I could never quite find my groove last year.
Never really felt like myself.

And in hindsight, I did a very good job of hiding that.
Because of course little bursts of me would shine through.
*Those little bursts of energy are hard for me to control*.

But aside from the hour each night I got to spend with Lyla, I wasn't happy.
I may have appeared it on the outside.
But I sure wasn't Me happy.
Bubbly, carefree, always-wants-to-socialize, make-others-smile happy.

And I tried so desperately to find my old self.
Everyday, I prayed and searched deep in my soul for me.

 I was living in a lopsided, non-balanced world of teaching and baby.

Those truly were the only two things my life consisted of.

It finally hit me one evening after a night out with friends.
The first night, I might add, in a really long time where I actually had fun.
And laughed.
A lot.
But then we got home.
And Gabe said to me, "Are you ever...able...to relax? To have fun?"
I was so confused, "Did I not look like I was having fun tonight?"
"Well. Not really."
So even though I truly was having fun, apparently I still looked miserable.

That conversation was the push I needed.
I decided to seek help.
And begin counseling.
Because I absolutely refused to reflect any of my sadness onto my child.

I went to a few cognitive behavioral therapy sessions.
It was so nice to let it all out.
I'm just so good at talking, you know?
And the exercises were so mind-blowingly effective, yet so simple.
They train your brain to completely let go and relax. Much like yoga or relaxation techniques we learned in our birthing classes.
Then, there were the countless Saturday morning coffee talks with my supportive husband.
These were *just as* beneficial, and I owe him my sanity.

After a month or so, my eyes were opened to so many things.
Most of these things revolved around trying to find me again.

The hardest part was realizing that having a baby changed me.
Or at least did a major overhaul on my priorities.

Some of my core traits were conflicting with what I desperately wanted out of my life.

I've always thrived by pouring myself into all that I do. 

Mostly my career. 

So here I was.
This overcommitted overachiever who really just wanted to slow down and simplify.
I didn't know how to handle that.

It all began when I got pregnant with Lyla just as I was beginning a new career.
Completely unexpected.

And all new teachers will tell you the first years are brutal.
Building your resources.
Hours of creating and crafting.
All-nighters planning and preparing.

However.
The great longtime teachers put in almost as many hours as new teachers.
You know the ones.
The ones whose classroom everyone wants their child in.
The ones who never become complacent.
Who always strive to provide the best possible education for their students.
And put in countless hours after school.
And *gasp* during summer break.

That was me.
And always *would have been* me.
Never doing the same lesson or following the same basal year after year.
Always trying to keep things fresh and exciting.
Caring *so* much for each individual student, constantly trying to meet his or her needs.

And if I put that much effort into a job?

You can only imagine what I put into another human being.
A little being that I carried for 9 months.
A really cute little being, at that.

Putting an equal effort into my job and my baby was impossible.
Truly.
Something had to give.
And it eventually broke me. 

I was struggling with so many internal conflicts.
Having an identity crisis of sorts.

I felt I needed to stick it out another year with teaching.
Something I dreamed of doing my entire life.
Something I left a promising corporate career for.
Something I went into *debt* for.
Something I went through the grueling process of getting a masters for.
Something I was naturally good at and worked so hard to excel at.

But then part of me wanted to be a stay-at-home-mom.
Crafting. Teaching my babe at home. Baking. Park Dates.

But part of me still missed the business world.
Adults. Recognition. Ability to advance.

I was all over the place. 

And then I was dealing with my overcommitment problem.
Born with the curse of the inability to say no.

My entire life, I've been involved in everything.
Volunteering.
Committees.
Clubs.
Leadership roles.
And, I never, ever miss out on a social event.

Busy.Busy.Busy.
Never sitting still.

However, after having Lyla, I found that I no longer wanted those things.
I no longer craved busy.
And I would cringe at the thought of being "lazy".
Shouldn't I want to be busy?

Instead of busy though, I desperately craved quiet.
And for the first time in my life, I started saying no.
A lot.

But, not wanting to be overcommitted freaked me out.
Again, I struggled with, "Who am I?"

Combine all of that with my perfectionist nature?

And my natural desire to be Pinterest Perfect?

And you've got yourself a recipe for a nervous breakdown. 

*Which I had a couple of those*. 

Until finally.

Summer came. 

And along with it came a mental reprieve. 

And the plan was to go back to school for at least one more year.

Give it one more shot.  

But as summer went on. 

I was able to completely detox my mind. 

And I realized I could not go back. 

Back to a completely-out-of-control whirlwind. 

With no chance to catch my breath. 

And it was finally during one of our Saturday morning coffee talks, Gabe asked a very simple question.  

"What do you want out of life?"

Tears immediately began pooling. 

And I knew exactly what I wanted. 

simplicity.

family.

solid friendships.

time for me.

I want to de-busify. 

To stop over scheduling.

A blogger that I've followed for awhile says it perfectly here. 

I want to stop committing 120% of my time. 

(An actual problem with society today).

I am finally ok with an open calendar. 

And with saying "no". 

And with de-committing. 

I'm ok with completely shifting my focus. 

Saving room for family. 

Relaxation.

Spontaneity. 

Quiet.

Being with people I love. 

I personally could not do those things if I continued teaching. 

At least not at this point in my life. 

That being said, I am starting a new job next week. 

A much simpler job where I can turn off my brain at night. 

With a happy work environment. 

Working with incredible people.

Where the office is closed on Fridays. 

And *most importantly* we get a lunch break. 

**Without getting too specific (because you never know who is lurking this side of the internet), it's a front desk job in a medical office setting. And I'll eventually be working on some exciting social media stuff too as the clinic is in the process of a major rebrand.**

This was never about me not working. 

It was about me finding balance.  

But mostly, it was about getting back to the old me, while embracing the new me. 

Mission Accomplished.

Week 49: Changing Like Whoa

Week 49: 07/22/13 - 07/28

It's officially taken me two full months. 

To get my house back in order. 

From the hurricane of chaos from this past year. 

No seriously. 

I've gone through every room in our house. 

Shaking my head in horror {and disgust} at the collection of clutter and cobwebs. 

Word of advice to my future self: 

Never, ever let your house go like this again. 

Not to mention the cleanup from TWO major storms. 

Let's just say we're on a first name basis with our insurance company. 

And I've become an expert at flooded-basement-cleanup.

All by myself. 

While husband is out of town at a "conference" in Las Vegas.

Aside from cleaning/organizing/piling/ridding of stuff in and on every cabinet/drawer/shelf/counter/crevice, these past few weeks have been absolutely incredible. 

There is no other word to describe this precious time with my babe. 

I will say, however, that every week I'm noticing enormous changes. 

Changes that suddenly make me panic for a second.

As I scramble and clutch on to the teeniest little parts that are still baby. 

But of course I realize that you are not a baby anymore. 

How?

How do I have an almost one year old?

And in that same breath.

These changes are thrilling. 

And make me one proud mama. 

Something tells me I have many more of these feelings to experience in coming years.

Desperate for time to stop. 

Yet excited as you learn, grow, and become more independent. 

With that being said, I want to jot down some specific things I've noticed recently. 

Things that make my heart swell. 

Simple, everyday things that I want to look back on and cherish. 

• You've been signing "more" for awhile now. Typically when I ask if you want more, you always, always sign for "more". So much, that I was beginning to think that you would eat 24 hours a day if I let you. Until this week. You *finally* started signing "all-done". It used to be when I asked if you were all done, you would start crying and desperately sign "more". Now when I ask, you actually sign that you are done. Sometimes I don't even have to ask, you just tell me what you want. The beauty of baby signing.

• Absolutely nothing makes my heart burst the way it does when you give kisses. Sometimes they are subtle *in typical Lyla fashion, of course*. But other times they are dramatic and wet. And  lately, you've been catching me by surprise. When I go in to get you from your crib every morning, you pull yourself up to me and give me a giant kiss on the lips. 
  I...I...I can't. 

• You are a such a little person these days. It always takes me a moment when I realize that you actually understand something I've said to you. Like the other night during our bedtime story, the book said "bye" in it. Without stopping, I kept reading, and you started waving and saying "bye-bye". Or sometimes when I close a book and say "the end", you sign "all-done". Also during story time, you patiently wait to turn the page until I say, "Turn the page, Lyla". Or when I tell you to kiss your baby, and you pick her up and kiss her right on the lips! Or when we ask for a high five, you put your sweet little hand up to touch ours. 

• We have your first official physical therapy/child development appointment set up for the week after your first birthday. But honestly, you've made so much progress in the last week. We've been doing a couple of PT exercises everyday, and I think they're helping. You've been getting stronger with our pulling up exercises, and you even pulled up one time on your Zany Zoo completely unassisted! And girlfriend, you may not technically crawl, but you are all over the place. I left you for three minutes on your belly, and I came back and couldn't find you. You *somehow* made your way behind the living room chair and were playing with the AC vent. Needless to say, you've been rolling, scooting backwards, and even booty scooting all the way across the room. You've got places to go, and you don't let the fact that you can't quite crawl yet stop you. And sometimes, I swear you crawl when I'm not looking. You little sneaky-pants.

• Another sign that you really are getting older? Your coping skills have matured tremendously. You are just much more patient. We are even able to stray from your napping schedule (or even skip naps at times) or stretch out time in between meals when we have to. You are also significantly better with people you don't know. (Although, Dr. R. swears your early detection of "stranger-danger" was incredibly healthy *and even advanced* in the social skills department). But, I'm happy we're past that stage. Now, you're still shy when you meet new people and are in new surroundings, but you are no longer terrified. You even let others hold you...a lot. And you're much better with your other baby friends. You don't cry and beg me to hold you when they try to hug or tug at you.

• And a *sad* little observation. You no longer swirl your feet and hands when you want or need something. Before, if you wanted anything *mostly food* you would start crazily swirling your feet and hands around and around in circles. Everyone always commented on it, and we would laugh hysterically over it. Then, I realized the other day I haven't seen you do that in awhile. And I don't know that I ever mentioned this sweet, quirky little part of your everyday interactions. I'm sort of sad to see them go.

• Awkward Confession: You have become my professional bathroom buddy. Yep. Every.single.time. we're out running errands, I suddenly have to go to the bathroom. I can't help it. I drink a lot of water. So, without fail, we have to abandon our shopping cart. And you go right into the stall with me, and I hold you while I pee. *Make sure to tuck that one away for your future resume. ;)

• I seriously think you may be musical...or *fingers crossed* a future dancer. You have some serious rhythm anytime a song is playing and immediately throw your hands in the air and bounce up and down. You also love to clap to the beat (well, sort of). And you absolutely love when I sing to you. Although I can't possibly imagine why. Mama can't hold a tune. Regardless, you love music, and you really love dancing. Especially when mom and dad act like fools and dance for you. :)

*While typing this post, your dad came home from being gone for a week. You immediately squealed and started yelling, "Da-Da-Da"!! I've never seen him smile so big. 

Then you went in for the glasses, immediately followed by a kiss. 

Love.

New Mommy Files: Cloth Diapers Part II

It's funny.

Having recently gone on vacation, we exclusively used disposable diapers for two weeks. 

My best friend asked me, "Is it going to be such a pain to switch back to cloth?"

I really pondered on that. 

Because, man it was nice to not have to worry about cloth.

No need to launder diapers every other day.  

No fear of finding a stinky diaper lurking in the depths of my diaper bag.

Just change, roll up, throw away. 

But you know something?

I actually *missed* cloth. 

There was something quite comforting about coming home to cloth. 

I guess I'm a sucker for routine.

An intense creature of habit. 

And cloth diapering has become part of our everyday life. 

Well, anyway. 

If you missed the first part of this post, go check it out!

The Lazy Man's {Brief} Guide to Cloth Diapering 

Part II: Our Favorites and Daily Routine

Like I said in the last post.
We are probably not the poster children for cloth diapering.
But this is our personal guide.
Our favorites.
Our routines.
Our helpful tidbits.

So, let's just start from the beginning.

Cloth Beginnings. 
We didn't start out with cloth. Lyla left the hospital in a disposable, and we continued to use disposables for the next couple of months.
1). Because we couldn't justify purchasing newborn size cloth diapers when she'd only use them for a few months and
2). Because we'd never changed a diaper before in our lives. So we figured we should probably master the basics first.

But, we knew we wanted to do cloth.
We knew we wanted to save money.
Both of our mamas used cloth on us.
And some of my favorite bloggers cloth (a clear and obvious reason to make such a large commitment, right?)

And although cloth diapering may be super trendy in big cities, it is considered back-woods in Wichita.
*the irony*
I can't tell you how many, "You touch your child's poop?!?!" looks we get.

But we like to go against the grain.
Well, Gabe likes to go against the grain.
But I want to shout from the rooftops, "I'm totally normal. I don't touch poop, I swear!"

Anyway.
We did lots of cloth research leading up to Lyla's grand entrance.
And some of my friends graciously hosted a shower where we received a good cloth inventory.
Then we purchased a good amount with gift cards.

We used disposables until Lyla was about 11-12 weeks old.
We started using cloth one week before I went back to work.
*I really don't recommend that.*
Here I was trying to figure out how in the world I'd make it out the door with clothes on, let alone trying to figure out a cloth diapering system.
In hindsight, I should have gotten into a good routine about a month before going back to work.

But once we got into a routine, we actually enjoyed it.
It just became part of our day.

Our Favorites.
Sends me into a tailspin just thinking about all the decisions to make when it comes to cloth.

So we researched a lot.
Talked to friends who use cloth.
Experimented with different brands.

After reading hundreds of blog reviews and doing a lot of research, I was sure that we would stock up on Bum Genius All-in-Ones.
They are on the pricier end of cloths.

But well worth the initial investment.
Plus, so many in blog land raved about Bum Genius.
So we went to a local baby shop and bought two Bum Genius Freetimes to test out.

We loved them.
Sturdy. No hassel with stuffing. Adorable.
But there was a downside.
A *big downside* for this working mama.
They cannot go in the dyer.
And they take a long time to hang dry.
Especially when it's too cold/dark/wet to dry outside.
So, they came in at a close second for me, personally.
(We also tried Grovia and Bottombumpers brands.)

So our number one cloth diaper pick?
*Especially for working moms and dads*
Fuzzibunz One Size Elite Diapers.

Love at first wash (and dry).

They have all the convenience of Bum Genius AIO's.

But you can dry these bad boys in the dryer.
*Huge* bonus.
And in addition to multiple snaps to help properly fit baby, they have elastics on the inside that you can adjust.

However, they are technically considered a pocket diaper.
So there is an extra step that AIOs (All-in-Ones) do not have.

That "extra" step simply involves stuffing the diaper.

A step that literally takes 3 extra seconds.

The fact that they are a pocket diaper is exactly what makes them so easy to dry.
Because there isn't as much bulk and fabric attached like the AIO diapers.

How many do I need?

We have 17 diapers total.
12 of those are our beloved Fuzzibunz.
With 17 diapers, we do laundry every other day. 

Why 17?
Well, because we received most of our diapers as gifts.
I think we only bought an additional three.

We always talk about buying a few more.
Just so we could wash every two and a half to three days.
(I wouldn't go much longer than that to wash.
Yucky.)
*I personally recommend 18-20 diapers so there is a nice rotation.*

Daily Routine. 

Our daily routine is fairly straightforward.

We change Lyla's diaper probably about 7-8 times per day. 

If the diaper is wet only, we take out the insert and throw into her diaper pail.

If the diaper is dirty, we either shake off the poo (if it's solid) or rinse off the poo (if it's not solid).  

Then take out the insert and throw the insert and shell into diaper pail.

Every day and a half to every 2 days, we wash the diapers. 

*If we had a few more diapers, we could probably stretch to every 2 1/2 to every 3 days.*

We unload the diapers from the dryer.

Put the diapers in her drawer. 

And stuff right before putting on her sweet little bum.

Amazing stuff, huh?

So Fresh and So Clean. 

I know. I know.

For all you clean-freak skeptics out there, you really just want to get to the bottom line.

How do we clean these things?

Well. 

The steps are really quite simple. 

1). Take out entire diaper pail insert full of cloth diapers. 

2). Dump contents into washing machine (including washable diaper pail insert). 

3). Set washer to 2 rinse - hot cycle. (Any *ahem* residue left on the diaper is taken out after the first rinse).

4). Dry on delicate/low or in the sun. 

Easy.

Peasy. 

Another cleaning tidbit. 

I mentioned that we didn't start clothing (yep. totally a verb) until Ly was three months. 

And she was exclusively breastfed, which totally makes a difference in the "disposal" department. 

I couldn't believe how often a wee newborn could dispose of waste. 

It was a lot.

And it was runny. 

But luckily, breastfed poo's aren't stinky!

(Hey, I like to see the positives.)

So, at the beginning, we used a diaper sprayer.

It just attaches right to the water line for your toilet. 

You just hold your diaper against the side of the toilet.

Press the nozzle. 

And it sprays that nasty off. 

An added bonus?

It acts as a bidet as well. 

*Someone in our household has tried it out. 

And that someone isn't me. 

Hint: He likes to think we live in Europe sometimes. 

(Luckily, when baby starts eating solids, the poo comes right off into the toilet.

No spray necessary.)

A Few FAQs.

Handy Disposables. I always have disposables on hand. Just in case Ly has diaper rash (I mentioned before I prefer disposables so I can use Desitin to clear it up more quickly), or if we're out and about running errands or going to be gone for a long period of time. It's just cleaner and quicker to use disposables. 

Have Two Washable Pail Liners. We only have one right now. Only because I always forget to buy a second. But it would be nice to have two so that you always have a liner in the diaper pail. I can't tell you how many times I haven't had a liner in the pail and have had to just stack the diapers on top of the pail....wait, yes I can tell you how many times...this happens every single time I wash the diapers. So, just get two. 

Wipes. I started out using cloth wipes too. They worked just fine. However. It was one more thing packed onto my already on-the-verge-of-a-nervous-breakdown schedule. So, I eliminated the extra step. Now, we happily use disposable wipes. I wipe Ly's toosh, throw away into the garbage basket, and then put the cloth diaper in the diaper pail. 

Nighttime. Lyla's been sleeping 12-13 hours for a solid 8 months. And when I say solid, that means she doesn't wake up at all. Or if she does, she goes right back to sleep. That being said, she never receives diaper changes in the middle of the night. So, I put one insert inside the pocket of the diaper and another insert laying inside the diaper. Double the absorbency. Works brilliantly. 

Mmk.
I've been writing this post for way too long.
And you've been reading this post for way too long.

That is, if anyone is still out there. 

*Crickets. Crickets.*

I was planning to also share specifics on products we use. 

But this is your lucky day.
Because my wrists hurt.
So, I'm going to add on a Part III.
Lookie there.
Look at me being spontaneous and daring.

So more to come.
On the exciting world of baby waste.

Also, I linked up with Kristin for Baby Talk Tuesdays! Go over and say hello. :)

 

Goodnight, Rhode Island.

It's taken a full week.

To come down from vacation high.
And make my way back to reality.
A reality with a new outlook.
And new exciting things ahead.

But for the sake of memory.
I'm giving our first family vacation one last shout out.

Because I failed to share the best part of our trip.
Is it really a vacation without the beach?
I think not.

And a quick side note on that thought.
This trip definitely did a number on our psyche.
We were overcome with nostalgia and memories.
The moment we landed, we desperately missed our old landscape.
The hills.
The trees.
The coast.
The proximity to everything beautiful and fantastic.
Federal Hill.
Newport.
Quahogs and Chowder.

*Sigh*

Needless to say, we were thrilled to rent a house on the beach in a small town on Cape Cod.

Unfortunately, Lyla was doing some major teething the first two days, so our first couple beach outings were not as I'd hoped.

Our delicate little lady prefers pampering over roughing it.
So, the gritty East Coast sand was not her thing.
The 95 degree weather and 75% humidity wasn't her thing either.
And the moment she tasted the salt water?
She immediately demanded a nice refreshing *heated* pool.
Not to mention all the on-and-off-with-a-wet bathing-suit nonsense.
Not having it.

However.
By day 3, she was practically begging to beach it up.
She loved it.
It just took us a couple of days to figure out what made her most comfortable.
Which really was just an umbrella for some shade and a Happy Tots squeeze pack.
And some playtime in the water.

We also did some beach exploring.
Found a couple of seashells on our morning beach walks.
Played in the sand.
And practiced our kicking that we learned in swim lessons.

Of course Lyla's "kicks" are one at a time.
Very gentle kicks.
And intermittent.
Just like they were in the womb.
Typical Lyla fashion.

All in all, the beach was the best.

Can't wait to do it again.
Although, my bet is Ly is rooting for a heated pool and some AC.