Breastfeeding, Babywearing and Clothdiapers

I will admit that little baby was maybe, kind of-sort of, definitely the most wonderful accident. It was not our intention to become pregnant while middle child was 4/5 months old. The boys are a glorious, hellishly spaced, 13 months apart in age. When little baby was born, middle child literally started walking. As in, the day I went in to have him, my girlfriend sent me a text message asking, "How long has J been walking?"

Awesome.

Little baby was a boob man. The other two children, tried as I might, preferred the bottle. I'd like to say I handled that with grace, but the truth is, it stung badly that they didn't/couldn't nurse. Girl child basically refused me, and middle child took up too much grief in my heart that I just couldn't. Plus, he has a BIG dairy issue. Hello screamer. I liked that little baby was good at nursing. I hate nursing. Really. I mean, it was special, and something only I could do for him, and "breast is best" and blah, blah, blah. I don't care how people feed their babies, I care that they feed them. Babies should be fat.

Little baby very usually got stuck in the Ergo. This wasn't because we ascribed to the idea that baby wearing was THE thing to do. I've read the studies - babies that are strapped on to mom or dad cry less, they talk earlier, they walk earlier, they can solve the Pythagorean Theorem. Little baby got shoved into the Ergo, because I needed my hands. I needed them to wipe noses, to walk dogs, to cook dinner, to wipe butts...

So. I'm not sure if you did the math. Middle and Little are 13 months apart. Each child is in diapers. DIAPERS. So.Much.Poop. For serious, we were spending over $200 in diapers, wipes, and creams for these two a month. Per month. Do you even know how much wine, beer, and cheese that can buy?! Lots. Thus, the cloth diapers came into our household... and cloth wipes... and homemade butt paste. The upside of this is, we definitely have more wine, beer, and cheese in the house. The downside of this is, I have to clean shit out of a cloth diaper and wash them. The entire laundry room smells like piss when the diapers are going through the wash, and I haven't quite figured out the best way to get all the laundry done.

........

I shit you not, I was at Lowe's a couple weeks ago and the lady checking us out had me pegged. I was wearing little baby, both boys had their stupid, ineffectual baltic amber teething necklaces on, and she said "Oh. You cloth diaper.". Soooo.... Wait, what? All of a sudden I have become an easy to solve word problem in math - "If child one and two are wearing X article of clothing, and mother is wear one of two children, then obviously they must all Z."

I wonder if people look at me and think I have my shit together. I wonder if they are jealous. If the judge. If the hate. If they envy. If. If. If.

Hey. I don't. Have my shit together. Don't be jealous, don't judge, don't hate, don't envy me. Wanna know what? My belly is flabby. My dogs don't get walked nearly enough. I can't bake to save my life. I do my best cleaning ten minutes before company is scheduled to come over. I can't sleep with my husband if he is snoring, but I also canNOT sleep without him... and his damn snoring. I cried for almost six weeks straight while nursing Little, because he.would.not.leave.me.alone. I hate wearing him... he hates being strapped on... he tried to throw himself out of the Ergo. Seriously, he did.

People, don't let yourself be pigeon holed into a certain category. Fight.