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Baby Talk
Let your baby side show.
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Current Donation Goals
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May BillsRaised $100 of $400 target
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General FundRaised $0
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Posts
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Whilst the precise etymology of the truism “Time is what keeps everything from happening at once” is ambiguous, clearly Chronos (the ancient Greek deity personifying time to save you a Google) has wandered off from Chez Oznl this week as everything is indeed happening at once here. A shortened working week for my beloved due to a public holiday combines with a pair of medical appointments on adjacent days for me (one of which may safely be conducted in nappies, the other which due to the long commute down to Brisbane, must be unsafely conducted in nappies and affords a high risk of nappy exposure at the end). Added to this, a multi-day influx of workmen into the house for a minor-but-nonetheless-expensive building renovation have all collided into the same week. Yet again I’ve had to grant my cloth nappies a holiday. They just don’t work for me this week. They will get to spend it vacationing in a dark wardrobe where they’ll at least get some rest and won’t get peed on which must be nice for them. The only long-shot day for running a weekly load of cloth nappy washing would have been the Brisbane medical appointment day. So a large chunk of THAT day will involve me laying shirtless in front of a specialist who will studiously pretend that he hasn’t noticed my curiously featureless and puffy crotch with possibly just a hint of plastic pant elastic protruding above my jeans. I suppose, I could just wear some cloth nappies down to that appointment based upon the maxim that it is as well to be hung for a sheep as a goat but I fret about the physical intimacy of the procedure and a cloth nappy’s notorious lack of odour control. I know I’ll be wet by the time I get there as I have a bladder like a toddler. I just don’t want to have an odour like a toddler to go with it. That still leaves 2 days that could be given over to the goddess of renewable pee padding but for the builders… It’s not that I was proposing to pirouette about the house in spandex-stretched-taut over bulky pinned terry towelling and plastic pants before a high-vis-clad audience but the works being undertaken involve high frequency access to our house’s rear garden via the laundry and garage. I’d have nowhere to safely store my used cloth nappies pending wash. Even that’s before the facts that our clothesline will be firmly located further down the workmen transit route betwixt trucks and holes and, thanks to the (temporary) rear fence removal, completely exposed to an adjacent road. If it wouldn’t be the workmen gazing wonderingly at my grown-up sized penguin-motif Velcro nappies and plastic pants it would be the endless procession of active-wear-clad uber-mummies walking their designer dogs and toddlers down to the barista: assuming their Range Rovers didn’t start. So, disposables it is: a mild annoyance further aggravated by the fact that my nappy supplier (the ONLY vendor for the Rearz InControl BeDry Night Premium (“Colin”) ones I use) is yet again, out of stock. I’m nervously surveying my depleting-quicker-than-usual case of night nappies, hoping that a container load comes in shortly. I’m acutely aware of the ‘single point of failure’ in my nappy supply chain but it’s a niche market and so one-player seems to be all we get. Aggravations travel with company it seems. Compounding my elevated consumption of disposable pants, finally, at last, this week, we are starting to see some hints of cooler weather here and there. T-shirts and shorts remain the order of the day and will continue to do so for some weeks yet but we’ve already had a few nights where we turned OFF the bedroom ceiling fan and I’ve re-added a t-shirt to my night nappy ensemble. The cooler weather has reminded me of another seasonal truism that I’ve now forgotten only to re-remember every May for the last 7 years of my permanently-nappied life: my nappies get wetter as the climate cools. Instead of making sweat, my body makes pee. The first hint of this was on Friday night or, to be more accurate, Saturday morning when I awoke to discover my terry-lined plastic pants had “taken one for the team”. Possibly more than one. I didn’t notice on waking but as is my habit, I ran a quick exploratory finger around my nappy zone in bed to make sure all was well. It was. A quick finger check inside my plastic pants however revealed that the terry towelling liner whilst expectedly warm, was unexpectedly wet. Upon changing myself, I discovered it was soaked. My Colin-nappy was pretty wet but I suspect I’d had one or more bedtime pees on one or more of my sides which was just a bit more than Colin could deal with. This is why I wear insurance to bed but I haven’t had to cash in the policy for ages. This nappy fail was repeated again late that afternoon when I realised my Active Air day nappy had leaked sufficiently for some wee to get past the leg elastics of my plastic pants and make a small damp spot on my jeans. I’d over-loaded it. It’s been many months since this happened. The next day I decided to wear a conventional BeDry for some extra day-range. I had to go down to Brisbane with my beloved. Usually I’d go for something more capacious such as the small stash of Rearz Inspire “Mega” but since I’d been getting away with Air Actives for months, I figured the 7500ml ISO capacity of the “BeDry” would be sufficient. I threw my nappy-change-backpack into the car anyway. Again, I returned home later that evening with a wet spot on the rear of my jeans thigh. This was a mystery. As far as I was concerned, I hadn’t actually used my nappy very much at all during that day. I’d actually thought I’d wasted a BeDry and could have gotten away with the (cheaper) Active Air. I decided to blame with wet patch on some kind of pressure point from the reasonably-uncomfortably-firm sports seating in my beloved’s ridiculous V8 coupe. But no, upon changing I found my BeDry had the form factor and heft of a dead cat. Evidently I’d peed loads in it but forgotten that I’d done it. That’s not incontinence, it’s just being very, very used to being in nappies. And then I consigned another pair of overnight terry-lined plastic pants into the “pending wash” pile along with the jeans. In an effort to preserve my dwindling population of Colins, I’d decided to sleep in another of my ageing Rearz Inspire. There was a “pee dream”. In it, I was trying to pee into a rubbish bin that had been thoughtfully placed at the bottom corner of our bed’s mattress. No matter how carefully I aimed my relevant anatomy, it seemed it was my crotch that was getting warm and wet instead of the inside of the bin. No prizes for guessing what happened there. At some point the “Inspire” tapped out but once again my giant terry/plastic pants saved my metaphorical bacon. I’ll have to take more leak precautions (hydrate less) until the weather warms up again (late August). So a few more days of hyper-peeing abundantly into disposable nappies I can’t yet replenish whilst juggling tradespeople and medical practitioners. Already again, it seems that chunks of life might be getting in the way of my cloth nappies for next week also. At some point however I’m going to have to deal with multiple pairs of pee-infused lined plastic pants. They won’t wash themselves. These are the things we do to ourselves. -
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By astrodiaper · Posted
Nothing ATM. Since I'm confirmed to work the weekend, I may throw on a couple of cloth diapers, in the next 48 hours, and use them, since I'll have access to industrial washers. -
By astrodiaper · Posted
My dad used to do that with beef ribs. She had no problem with pork chops or any pork for breakfast, but didn't care for pork ribs. I actually miss that. (I could do it, but it's just me and I don't do leftovers due to the space of my mini-fridge and I tend to forget that I have leftovers until they become sentient and try to kill me. No plan again. I have an appointment at 8:30, so nothing too heavy.
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