Diaper Brushing

You read that right. I am talking about brushing out a cloth diaper today.

Seems weird, and I would never have thought of doing it before, but I read a blog about brushing fleece diapers a few weeks ago, and it has been in the back of my mind to try it out.

So after selling a couple of diapers yesterday, and wanting them to look nice, I decided to give it a try. For those who don't know tons about cloth diapers, most cloth diapers are lined with fleece or a suede cloth. This is just for fleece diapers, which, after washing several times, become 'pilly' inside, like this-

This is a Perfect Size FuzziBunz. It is one of the first pocket diapers I got, and so it is one of the oldest. The pilling makes the diaper less soft than when it is brand new. I never really thought there was anything I could do to get rid of it until I read that blog. So, I tried a baby brush that I got yesterday at Walmart. It worked, but it took a LONG time to get the diaper to be brushed out. So today, I was washing dishes, when I realized I had a hard bristled dish brush that I have never used. So I grabbed it, and my FuzziBunz diaper, and got to brushing.

This is the brush I used. I believe it's a Clorox brush, but any brush with a stiff bristle will work

And I got to brushing. The brush didn't have anything on it (like water or soap) and I just laid the diaper over my leg, held it taut with one hand, and brushed with the other. Consistently brushing in one direction seemed to work the best. I also pulled the elastic of the leg and the back out so I could get to all of the fleece. Like this-

The brushing took much less time with a stiffer bristle than it did last night.

This is the after shot. MUCH softer, very little pilling. And it took about 5 minutes this time around.

Now I just need to grab my other 20 or so pocket diapers and do the same. Then again...maybe not.

Is that a P or a B?

Interestingly enough, I spend a good part of talking with Bishop correcting the letter he is using to say a work. For example, when he says chip, he often will use an s sound, which is normal for little kiddos, but I always say something to the point of, "Chips, that's right. CH-ips." So most of our conversations include me repronouncing what he has just said to me.

This morning was no different. He was standing on my bed, talking to me, wearing just his pj pants while I was changing. He was chatting away, and said what I heard as "Mommy's poops". To which I automatically chimed in with, "Mommy's poops? What do you mean? There's no poop in Mommy's bedroom" (I was slightly concerned that he was admitting to something that I had yet to discover). Bishop answered, slightly annoyed that I was questioning him when he had already moved on to another subject, "No, Mommy's poops. See?" At this point, he walked over to where I was standing and started patting my chest.

"Poops? See mommy? Poops."

In my mind I am thinking...poops? Poops...poops...wait? Boobs? Is he talking about my boobs?

So I ask him, "Bishop, do you mean Mommy's boobs?"

Bishop- "Yeah, mommy's poops."

"No, buddy, it's a B, like B-ishop. B-oo-bs" (it hadn't really occured to me what I was explaining at this point, or helping him learn to say).

Bishop- "Bishop? OHhhhhhhh, Bishop's Boobs."

Then he started patting his own stomach. "See Mommy? Bishop's Boobs!! Bishop Boobs!"

Oh lord. Where did I go wrong. We always put things into perspective of who is going to have to explain to his Sunday school teacher why he is saying what he is saying. This one is definitely on me.

Give me the milk, or the dog gets it.

At the age of 3, Bishop has a slight addiction. Well, actually, in addition to his others, he has recently decided that he needs chocolate milk. Daily. This isn't such a big deal, but the kid just won't leave me alone until I get his chocolate milk. He usually starts pestering me at the most inconvient moments. Like while I am outside mowing the lawn. Or taking a shower. Or going to the bathroom. I think he can tell when I am otherwise occupied, and likes to come up with reasons to be the center of attention again. So I will be up to my elbows in baby poop or doing dishes and he starts in.

"Mommy, I want chocolate milk."

"Ok, Bishop, hang on one sec"

"Mommy, I chocolate milk, please" (which actually sounds like 'peas')

"Ok Bishop, hang on"

"Please Mommy!! Chocolate milk, please!!"

"Ok, just let me..."

"PLEASE MOMMY! Chocolate milk PLEASE?! Please, Mommy!!!"

(Clearly the kid thinks I am waiting for him to ask 'nicely' so he keeps adding more 'please's)

"OK! Bishop! Mommy needs to finish this, and then I will get your chocolate milk"

"CHOCOLATE MILK, MOMMY!!! Please, please, please?"

There is just no reasoning with him at this point. He is usually pulling on whatever appendage he can get a hold of (arm, leg, clothing...hair. Ok, he has never pulled my hair, but if it came between him and his chocolate milk, I wouldn't put it past him) to get me to go get him some chocolate milk.

I am not a huge fan of juice. It is just a bunch of sugar, and the boy does NOT need the extra energy. So he more often than not has water, with the occasional chocolate milk tossed in. Thus the begging. This same situation happens if he knows we have Capri Suns in the fridge. Strangely enough, I noticed that on his chocolate milk packaging, it says it has 25% less sugar. Which makes me wonder, less than what?

The normal chocolate milk? A competitors chocolate milk? A bag of sugar?

Daydreaming at...Fred Meyers?

That's right. It happened. And I am not ashamed to admit it on a public forum (clearly). I have been watching a couple kids in my house this week, and I needed a break. From being home, as well as from kids and, well, everything really. The problem with retail therapy, at least at a grocery store, is that most of it is off limits to me at this point in my gallbladder-less life.

If you don't want to hear me complain, now would be the time to check out.

I MISS FOOD!!!

It's not that I don't eat, but I just eat basically the same things all the time. Because I know they are safe. So I haven't done a ton of branching out, and I am soooo bored with food. I want a big hamburger. With hamburger. Or....hmmmmm I could go on a tangent. Like cake. And ice cream. And cheese. Lots of cheese. And real milk. Yum.

So anyways, needing a break, and being fresh out of the crackers that I can eat, I decided to head on down to Freddy's to get a new box. That's right. All the way to the store for a box of crackers.

Understand, though, that they are some of the only 'snacks' that are ok. They have 2 grams of fat per serving. I can recite the amount of fat in all the food I eat. And the serving size. It's a sad life.

So, I get to Freddys, get my crackers, and then I decide to wander a bit. You know, bask in the large amount of food there, and daydream. I wandered the candy/cookie aisles for...20 minutes? Trying to decide if I wanted to risk it. I stared at the cookie section, because I REALLY wanted some cookies. Like...shortbread cookies with chocolate. Or Milanos. Or...geez, really, any cookie that is big and good and had chocolate of some kind.

How sad is that? Pretty sad, in retrospect. I basically stood, imagining what they would taste like, as people walked by, grabbed what they wanted, and bought it. No doubt going home and eating as many as they wanted, not thinking anything of it. *sigh* So I stood and daydreamed.

Then I would wander to the candy aisle, though I didn't spend as much time there, since I am really not craving candy. Just cookies.

I spent about an hour in the store. And I bought? Crackers. I realized as I stood there that I hadn't really eaten today. Not a real meal, just like pieces of things as I fed the kiddos. All day. So I was really hungry, and I decided to just eat at home. So I made a sandwich. And had some of my crackers. So I going to drink some water and go to bed.

Ok. It's not ALL bad. For example, I am alive. That's a pretty big deal. Even if it means I have to be careful about what I eat and constantly feel slightly sick. I am usually pretty optimistic about the whole deal. But every now and then I need to complain. So that's my complaint. I just miss eating whatever and not feeling bad (but literally...bad=sick).