Change of Guard, and Other Stuff

Well, Dad has taken over the home front as I head back to work three days a week. I can't really speak for Gabe on the difficulty so far - all I know is that giving Oliver a bottle ranges from a somewhat frustrating, long drawn-out endeavor to an epic battle of wills that involves a lot of crying, and, I imagine, some four-letter words. But so far the boy has gotten fed both days, and there was even dinner waiting for me when I got home! I could get used to this.

I think I'm ready to throw in the towel on the cloth diapers. And the tipping point (for me, at least) isn't even necessarily the frequent and intimate contact with baby poo. No, I feel guilty doing laundry every other day - it doesn't seem like such a "green" thing to do. Plus, I haven't done the math, but I don't think we're saving any money. And last but not least, definitely not least, I can't stand shopping at the chi-chi yuppie "green" purveyors of baby accessories.

You walk in and are greeted by an aneroxic shopgirl with platinum blond hair who looks like she's never left Venice Beach, much less had a baby. You tell her you're interested in cloth diapers.

"Oh, all-in-ones, or pocket diapers? GDiapers or BumGenius?" she asks.

"Um, God, I'm not really sure," you stammer.

"Well, a lot of moms swear by the hemp inserts with micro-fleece covers. They really wick moisture," she tells you.

"I think I'll just get these plastic covers, thanks," you say, ready to get the hell out of dodge. This is why online shopping was invented, you think.

But somehow before you leave, you've also forked over $30 for a box of "natural, residue-free" detergent specially designed for anything that comes in contact with your precious baby's little bum. Hmmm, on second thought, let's head to Walgreens and get some Pampers. Too bad you can't get your money back for the detergent - store credit only. It won't even cover the cost of one Italian-designed Zutano onesie that your baby will fit for about three weeks.

But enough of that. On to some sappiness.

I love my boys so much it hurts. This morning, one of the first things out of Ezra's mouth when I went to get him from his crib was, "I love you, Mommy." Then, as I got ready for work, he kept saying it over and over all morning, running up and burying his head in my legs. Then he bent down and started kissing my toes.

The reason why it hurts is that whenever I feel intense happiness, I get scared. I remember all the dangers out there in the world and the fact that we're all mortal and there's always the chance, hopefully just a very tiny chance, that I could lose him or Oliver.

I've heard parenthood described as watching your heart walk around outside your body. I think that's a pretty accurate description.

Love,
Ash (and Gabe, Ezra and Oliver)