Friday 25 October 2013

pot woes (the non-smoking kind)

The day dawned when we decided that our precious gift wouldn't keep giving us precious gifts in her diaper every morning. (You have to admit that a pooped diaper is a helluva way to greet the day) So we ventured out on to the great potty-shopping trip. Already armed with well-meaning advice from the grandmothers (get one with a grip in front, so she can support herself; you haven't started potty -training YET? She'll be pooping herself till she is 20! and so on...) we headed to a fairly reliable kids store and asked for zer potty.
 
 

After wrinkling my nose at a rather twee duck shaped one, I hit upon (what in hindsight is proving to be one of my worst baby purchase decisions in the short run) a rather neat one. It is an all-singing version of the traditional potty and blares thusly every time K poos or pees into it... Hear and weep.

 

Ms Monkey modelling the potty
Supposedly the idea is to "reward" the baby with this noxious noise... It certainly does nothing much for me, especially at 6 a.m. But all of this is hindsight, which is ALWAYS 6/6
 
At the time I thought, "Oh, what a smart gizmo, especially since the seat can be lifted out and used on a regular WC for the kid later, and the unit converts into a bathroom footstool with the back folding down. It even has handholds on the side. I thought I was on to a good thing.
 
6 a.m.: potty inauguration. I sat and did my best impression of a constipated poo, grunting and scrunching my eyes, "K, baby, do this, see Ma?" It worked in a way.
 
A was busy video recording my grunts for posterity, that is, when he managed to hold the cam steady because he was laughing so hard. K looked mildly bewildered for a bit and then decided that this was all grand entertainment and kicked the potty in her version of applause. Of course, all of this resulted in a fantastic melange of sound at 6 in the morning: the potty started singing, I was still doing my best constipated pig grunts, A was rolling in laughter and K was kicking the potty and squealing in delight.
 
This continued for the next three-four days, till mercifully, we had drop-down.
 
Cheers to that :)
  
 


Friday 11 October 2013

bum bole

A: "convenience"!
me: "eco-friendly" !
A: "no mess"!
me: "best for baby"!

Guess who won that little (ok, big) argument? (not-at-all-smug grin)

The argument was about baby's bum-wear. What should we clad her little tushy in? I firmly held out for the traditional nappies made from an old cotton sari. A accused me of pushing those only because I had made them. Maybe he had a tiny point.

[You have to understand the context. A and I disagree on everything (almost everything) It's one of the secrets of an exciting, fulfilling married life. Our arguments typically end up with him accusing me of being "leftist, feminist, old-fashioned, too inclined to impose my views on everyone etc." My arsenal consists of "capitalist, new-fangled, domineering, not bothered about the state of the world." I wish I could get away with chauvinist, patriarchal and MCP. Unfortunately if I have to retain even a smidgen of honesty, I can't, though I lie in wait.]

What with one thing and another, we had it my way in the first few days. Even A drew the line at having a hysterical new mother on his hands. Unfortunately, we were trapped in the hospital for the first ten days thanks to a party pooper called infantile jaundice and we had speedily run out of the tiny cloth triangles which we had kept for the initial sticky poos.

So we ended up using disposable diapers and wipes while in the hospital, since toting dirties home for washing was a non-option with K in the NICU under lamps for phototherapy. An avid reader of labels (when I am in the loo and there's nothing to read, I have been known to resort to shampoo bottles), I went through the diaper and wipe labels . I thought that all the aloe lotion and softeners that in diapers and wipes were good for baby bums. I was speedily disabused of this notion by the paediatrician we visited on a visit to my parents'.

"No wipes, no disposable diapers. They can cause eczema which will then spread throughout the body. Try using one of the wipes to clean your sweaty face and you will know how it feels." Having already had K suffer through eczema, I was in no mood to risk a repeat.

When we finally came back from hospital, I was relieved to put her on the homemade nappy standard, though it was admittedly a pain in the butt. We compromised and used disposables when we went out. But I was still unhappy. Some research revealed the existence of modern cloth diapers which DID NOT LEAK.

I settled on bumgenius and we managed to save a few bucks by A ordering them before a business trip to the US and picking them up there. They are available online in India as well. He came back with a suitcase of them, grumbling a bit at the money and space they took up, but they've paid for themselves already.

Washing is a breeze too. I just rinse them a bit and pop them into strategically placed bins before they are ready for a 30 minute wash cycle with Krya natural detergent powder and we are set. And the snazzy colours mean that I can mix and match with her clothes rather keeping to boring old white disposables. My favourite is the owl print.

There may be times when you simply don't want to cart dirties around when you're out. I have found that Wipro Baby Soft diapers are the gentlest of the disposables we have tried so far and the list includes Pampers, Huggies, Teddy.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, yes, I do get a warm fuzzy feeling. My baby's bum bole happiness (no diaper rash - ever), I am using an eco-friendly detergent  that you can actually compost after use AND cloth diapers - a double winner.

If you would like to read more about the pros and cons of different kinds of diapering, check out this excellent post.

And no, I have no interest in promoting bum genius and Krya beyond the fact that they make excellent products which I am happy to use.


 

Tuesday 1 October 2013

the holey writ

Religion is one of those strange creatures which I treat with a healthy respect, but usually at a distance. I must confess that I happily adapt the more fun aspects like festivals, mythology (to suit my own ends) the cooler deities, like Shivji - what do you expect, the Banaras bit of my heritage will out somehow) and food and handily ignore the rest. My religion doesn't define me.

When you have a child, you tend to think more about spirituality and religion and what have you. These are the big questions you feel. Fundamental grounding in philosophy that your child will take with her out into the big bad world.

Based on the indisputable fact that all of us have a spark of the divine and that God dwells in all of us, I took the liberty of drafting my own holy writ, or rather holey writ, given that a large part of the human experience revolves around bodily orifices and can be summed up in the three Fs: food, faeces and fornication . The best part is that it is 100% adaptable: Mine will change with my child's age and you can adapt it to your own individual needs. So here goes:
  • Thou shalt feed at regular intervals. (This means no grizzling all bloody night long.)
  • When older, thou shalt eat healthy food and not fuss about eating karela, tinda, homemade bread et al like thy father does
  • Thou shalt sleep for at least four hours at a stretch every night without breaks for input or output.
  • Thou shalt not treat thy mother's breasts as a teething toy. Thou shalt certainly not repeat thy chewing antics just to hear thy mother shriek. Not even if it is an interesting sound.
  • Thou shalt not wait to pee or poo into a fresh diaper. Just do thy business in the old one, OK?
  • Thou shalt not treat the contents of thy nostrils as a wonderful and precious substance, particularly not in public.
  • When thou art older (old enough as judged by thy parents - OK - thy mother, since thy father is never going to think thee old enough) thou wilt learn about safe sex and informed consent and practise them.
  • [I hate this - but it's probably the most important one] If anyone even attempts to molest thee, thou shalt scream blue bloody murder in the loudest voice that thou canst and thy parents will beat twenty kinds of crap out of the molester. This, I promise solemnly.
That's about it for now. I guess I can always add more as I go along. Fare thee well.