I Like Cloth Diapers and I Don't Hug Trees

Don't get me wrong; I like trees. Big fan of nature. Love the camping thing. I just hate Birkenstocks and patchoulli, or however that reeking nasal slap is spelled. I like shoe shopping and makeup and clothes that don't have paisley prints. I'm getting way off track. I was trying to explain to someone today why my son is in cloth diapers. This woman said: "Oh, that'll all change once Number Two comes along" and gave me one of those dismissive waves and a chuckle, with the whole sentiment of Trust-Me-Honey-I-Speak-From-Experience-It's-Inevitable implied. My first response (she was saved by the fact that I had yet another Preggie Pop in my mouth; my words never left my brain) was: "Oh really? If I am to follow in both yours and your friends' experiences, should I then also look forward to the inevitability of my arse spreading to the size of a large turkey platter and my hair being hacked and streaked to within an inch of its life? I know I haven't smoked in ages, so I'm not feeling bitchy from a nic fit - any trace has left my body long ago. I chalk it up to lack of sleep and some seriously bad hormonal acne producing some painful, cyst-like splotches on the lower half of my face (only one, now, thank god). Maybe I need more chocolate. What I did end up saying to this woman was that I was sure I wasn't going to change to disposables-only once Dos popped out. She laughed again and said something about lack of time, best intentions notwithstanding, blah blah, to which I calmly told her it just freaked me the eff out to leave my boy in a disposable longer than, say, six hours a day (and by that, I mean, he gets a disposable at night right before bed and gets changed back into a cloth the first time he wakes my bleary-eyed arse up for a bottle - usually around four or five in the a.m. -- the disposable saves his bed, since he seems to have copious amounts of pee ready at the proverbial switch early in his REM cycle). This woman actually leaned in and moved to pat my arm: "I know, I know; you're concerned about the environment, right?" Uh, sure. More importantly, however, is the question of what do these artificial absorpancy polymers (the powder and gel placed in the diapers to soak up the pee) do when put next to your child's genitals, 24/7, for 2-3 years? That's freakish, man - they are polymers created for super absorpancy and are similar to the ones used in feminine hygiene products, and there's no way in HELL you'd get me to wear one form or another of those things - pad or tampon - 24/7 for 2-3 years (though I realize in the end, in my lifetime, I will probably wear them for nearly that long, and believe me, that does not give me a warm feeling inside). Plus, reading an article about how a firefighter - who found in another fire that disposable diapers were the only thing left intact in the smoldering wreckage that was a nursery - used the same polymer to put a ring around a house to save it from being burnt (yeah, it worked), well, that, my frosted, feathered hair friend, that put the big ol' cherry on my personal decision. The whole manners thing I was raised on then kicked in, because I felt the uncontrollable urge to then hastily point out to her that mine was only one opinion, and was meant in no way to reflect on anyone's decision to use or not use whatever they felt comfortable with. Let's be frank; if I didn't have a service come and carry said shite away every Tuesday morning, I would have a rough time of it, too. Cost is the same, disposable or cloth (using service), so that argument isn't even one. And why, I thought to myself, am I trying to make her feel better, now? No matter. The woman looked taken aback and kind of inched away from me and my shopping cart. Kane babbled and showed me how he got a box of couscous down off the shelf all by himself. He was very proud. He said so with a resounding, "Aaaarrrrrrrrrrrr." Mama's proud, too, honey. Aaaarrrrrrrrr, yourself.