Our New Baby (Not that one)
Thanks to all the lurkers who gifted me with their comments. I'm working on responding, because I so appreciated your words.
("Lurkers" sounds so derogatory, doesn't it? Maybe we should do something about that. Like we could call those who don't comment "Internet pixies" or "Hoverers" or "Hummingbirds" or something pretty. Just so you know, I love lurkers. Because there just isn't always something to say. And if you have nothing to say, then better to be a hummingbird.)
Anyways, for the last couple of months, on any given day you may have looked into the bedroom that my kids share and seen this:
Because it is so very rare that we have enough sun or even dry weather to dry our clothes outside. So it would end up that we let them dry in the kids' room, under the fastest fan, for approximately 48 hours, after which they still weren't dry and they smelled like the dog's tonsils. I'm not kidding. (The other day the recorded humidity here was 98%)
We were coping. Then the rains started in earnest again, and it started taking 72 hours to dry the clothes, and at one point all the clothes in the house were in the washer waiting to be dried or on the line, waiting to dry. Waiting and waiting. And Leafy was underwearless not because I chose it, but because there was not a single pair of dry undies.
I have a bed-wetter. I have a potty-trainer. And I have an older kid who still, at times, simply CANNOT TEAR HIMSELF AWAY FROM WHATEVER HE IS DOING ON TIME TO MAKE IT TO THE TOILET. You know what I mean, if you have boys.
And the idea of adding a bunch of baby diapers and clothing to the mix, adding nursing wear and the overall generosity of fluids that accompanies Newborn Land into our drying kerfuffle simply overwhelmed me.
I'll add here that we will be attempting to be infant potty training. But even here in India, the babies use diapers. There are some fairy tale books about women who know instinctively, every single time their baby needs to pee or poo, but really, it's just rather messy. It's just that you are committing yourself to the mess with the idea in mind that if you pay attention and run to the potty a lot, you can teach your kid to use it early on. I'll write more about that later.
There is no way around a lot of newborn laundry. We looked at dryers, and they were all very expensive. For us. (I was actually shocked to see a dryer in India at all. I had never seen one before.)
So, I was talking to my mom about this stuff, and she happened to be sitting next to my grandfather. They were all sitting and perhaps looking at the ocean at my parents' new house in Victoria, B.C., the one that I can't wait to visit. And I got on the phone with my dad and then part way through he said, "Hey here's some news. Grandpa's going to buy you a dryer."
And my dear wonderful Grandpa did it. He sent the money. Which is why we have this:
The first time Chinua pulled sheets out of it that were dry, he wept. And then Renee began to dance.
("Lurkers" sounds so derogatory, doesn't it? Maybe we should do something about that. Like we could call those who don't comment "Internet pixies" or "Hoverers" or "Hummingbirds" or something pretty. Just so you know, I love lurkers. Because there just isn't always something to say. And if you have nothing to say, then better to be a hummingbird.)
Anyways, for the last couple of months, on any given day you may have looked into the bedroom that my kids share and seen this:
Because it is so very rare that we have enough sun or even dry weather to dry our clothes outside. So it would end up that we let them dry in the kids' room, under the fastest fan, for approximately 48 hours, after which they still weren't dry and they smelled like the dog's tonsils. I'm not kidding. (The other day the recorded humidity here was 98%)
We were coping. Then the rains started in earnest again, and it started taking 72 hours to dry the clothes, and at one point all the clothes in the house were in the washer waiting to be dried or on the line, waiting to dry. Waiting and waiting. And Leafy was underwearless not because I chose it, but because there was not a single pair of dry undies.
I have a bed-wetter. I have a potty-trainer. And I have an older kid who still, at times, simply CANNOT TEAR HIMSELF AWAY FROM WHATEVER HE IS DOING ON TIME TO MAKE IT TO THE TOILET. You know what I mean, if you have boys.
And the idea of adding a bunch of baby diapers and clothing to the mix, adding nursing wear and the overall generosity of fluids that accompanies Newborn Land into our drying kerfuffle simply overwhelmed me.
I'll add here that we will be attempting to be infant potty training. But even here in India, the babies use diapers. There are some fairy tale books about women who know instinctively, every single time their baby needs to pee or poo, but really, it's just rather messy. It's just that you are committing yourself to the mess with the idea in mind that if you pay attention and run to the potty a lot, you can teach your kid to use it early on. I'll write more about that later.
There is no way around a lot of newborn laundry. We looked at dryers, and they were all very expensive. For us. (I was actually shocked to see a dryer in India at all. I had never seen one before.)
So, I was talking to my mom about this stuff, and she happened to be sitting next to my grandfather. They were all sitting and perhaps looking at the ocean at my parents' new house in Victoria, B.C., the one that I can't wait to visit. And I got on the phone with my dad and then part way through he said, "Hey here's some news. Grandpa's going to buy you a dryer."
And my dear wonderful Grandpa did it. He sent the money. Which is why we have this:
The first time Chinua pulled sheets out of it that were dry, he wept. And then Renee began to dance.