Money troubles are really starting to get to me. Although Mike's salary can handle the mortgage and bills, if we want to ever have any fun then we need something extra coming in: namely, ME working. My usual client isn't sending any projects my way at the moment, and no-one else is biting when I send out e-mails and make enquiries.
So, while we wait for other people to figure out how much of a fuckin' genius I am at making their work look brilliant, we have to figure out some ways to cut costs. We're not massive spenders, to be honest (I can't remember the last time I bought a new piece of clothing), and most of our 'fun' money goes on the odd meal at Subway or buying new clothes for Little O because he grows like a weed. Actually, he hasn't gained a single ounce in the last three months so we haven't needed any clothes recently, but the tales about his weight gains and losses are enough to fill an entirely new post, so I'll leave it there.
One of the things we've considered doing to save money is investing in cloth diapers. I KNOW they're called nappies in the UK, but if I'm going to start translating British and American English every time I mention them then things will get very boring, so please just accept that Little O knows his bum-coverings as diapers, and we'll all be happy. So yes, cloth diapers. I've read a lot about them recently, but until Little O turned a year old, we had no time to devote to extra piles of laundry and we've simply chosen the more convenient route. I think you'd find it hard to argue that we didn't deserve a little convenience in his first year....
So yesterday we started looking at purchasing some cloth diapers for real. I went on to the Fuzzi Bunz website and had a poke around, watching the helpful 'care for' and 'application' videos, and generally cooing over all the lovely little baby bottoms wearing fluffy, colourful diapers. However, nowhere on this website does it give prices, so you have to explore their sellers and distributors for a break down in costs. I went to the Fuzzi Bunz Store website and was excited to see they sell packages of cloth diapers to save customers money. "Whoo hoo!", I thought. "This will be A LOT cheaper than buying disposibles!"
Oh, how wrong I was. Numerous websites recommend buying four- to five-dozen cloth diapers so that you can do a completely separate load of laundry for them and not risk ruining your silk sheets with baby poop and extreme temperatures (one load hot, one load freezing cold). Have enough, and you can spend only one or two days a week washing diapers, while your little one wears the dry ones. So, when I was looking at costs, this figure of four- to five-dozen was firmly in my mind, and I went straight to the packages of 18 or 24 diapers to do some calculations.
18 One-size Fuzzi Bunz: $284.25
24 One-size Fuzzi Bunz : $442.80
(NOT including sales tax)
If you want to buy the recommended four- to five-dozen diapers, then you're looking at start-up costs for JUST DIAPERS of at least $1,000!! Then you have to consider how to store dirty diapers (handy diaper pails or some smart drawstring pouches for about $15 each), how to wash dirty diapers (two washes: one hot, one cold), how to dry diapers in the horrible winters we have (tumble drier), and then all the other incremental costs like wipes, spare pads, paper liners ($7 for 100) that you don't necessarily NEED, but they make the cloth diapering experience much less stressful.
So... to get us up and running, we'd be looking at around $1,000 to $1,200. The diapers are one-size, which is nice, and they'd last us until Little O potty-trains (if he's capable of it - we don't know yet), but we'd still have a larger water and electricity bill every month, as well as purchasing paper liners and wipes. So every month we'd probably be forking out an extra $20 anyway.
Generic, Target-brand diapers are $13.82 for 82 size four disposible diapers. We get through a box about every three weeks, so our monthly out-goings for diapers is about $20, and that's being generous. Wipes are bought in massive, commercial-size boxes containing nine packages for about $9. We go through one box about every six months, so our wipes cost us about $1.30 a month.
Let's run some numbers for the next two years, assuming it will take us that long to potty-train Little O.
Cloth diapers: Year One (12 months)
$1,000 start-up
$15.60 wipes
$12.00 spare pads (9)
$84.00 paper liners (100 liners for $7)
$30 - $50 extra water and electricity
= $1,161.60
Cloth diapers: Year Two (12 months)
$15.60 wipes
$84.00 paper liners
$30 - $50 extra water and electricity
= $149.60
TOTAL for two years: $1,311.20
Disposible diapers: Year One (12 months)
$240 diapers
$15.60 wipes
= $255.60
Disposible diapers: Year Two (12 months)
$240 diapers
$15.60 wipes
= $255.60
TOTAL for two years: $511.20
DID YOU READ THAT?! We would actually spend nearly THREE TIMES as much on cloth diapers if we made the switch! That's quite remarkable.
I have a theory on cloth diapers and the people who buy them. Parents can be a little... smug... sometimes. We hit upon a magic formula (and I'm as guilty as the rest of them - Little O sleeps like a fuckin' baby and everyone remarks on how well we must have taught him) and we like to feel that our parenting skills are infinitely superior to everyone else's. Parents who spend a large of money upfront on cloth diapers watch other parents throwing disposible diapers in the shopping cart every month and feel VERY, VERY smug. They forget, of course, that they spent a thousand dollars when their child was first born, and they forget how much extra water and electricity they use because it's absorbed in to their household costs.
Handily chosing to ignore the enviromental impact of disposible diapers (and this is actually a major concern for me, living half a mile from a landfill), I'd have to say that the myths about costs and convenience are just ludicrous. Even if you invested in one-size diapers and used them for two children (presumably buying a few more because you still need that four- to five-dozen per child), you're still looking at extraordinary costs. Yes, Fuzzi Bunz are in the premier league of cloth diapers and there are cheaper brands available, but if you're the type of parent who's going to invest in your baby's comfort, your own sense of smugness, and saving the environment, wouldn't you go for the brand that offers the most convenience, cuteness and brand-security? I would.
So, cloth diapering families, stop being SO SMUG! You are NOT saving any money! Perhaps if I believed in buying Pampers or Huggies the pricing would work out more in your favour, but I don't. My son craps in his diapers so we only buy generic brands, and I'm afraid that this equation just doesn't add up.
The next person who tells me they save $4,000 a year by cloth diapering will get an earful. And a small lapel pin that says: "I am a self-righteous cloth diapering prick".
Tina.
Showing posts with label Diapers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Diapers. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Oh, poo
I have a dilemma.
At the moment, my entire house smells like an odd combination of strawberries, vomited PediaSure and poo. I can't seem to escape it, no matter which room I go in to and I'm blamimg Little O.
According to our insurance plan, we are allowed to order two flavours of PediaSure a month. (The mind boggles as to why they think a child will be content only eating two different things a month, but that's besides the point.) This month we have strawberry and chocolate, as well as some vanilla and banana cans left over from last month. We tried Little O out on the strawberry stuff and he LOVES it! Normally he couldn't give a toss when we offer him a drink, but now he's begun to lean forward and move his mouth towards his cup, asking for more. It's quite something, and we're doing our best to encourage it.
The vomiting still hasn't ebbed, which I predicted would happen. So now we have layers of stains on the living room carpet where he gets fed (I know, I know. I should be feeding him at the dining table like a 'proper' family, but when feeds take an hour you need to have SOMETHING to do that doesn't involve using your hands, and I'm afraid putting the telly on is a simple solution). These stains were once very white (Neocate), then cream (PediaSure), and now they're turning pink (strawberry PediaSure). It's quite revolting, but I'm afraid cleaning the carpets every day is just not going to happen. Which is why the house smells like strawberries and vomit.
The real problem is the poo, though. Little O is still training his digestive system on how to process longer protein strands, so he's creating dirty diapers several times a day. But now they're... interesting. They've changed colour so much during the last month or so that I'm still not sure what to do. The initial changes were attributed to a possible C. difficile infection, which was treated with antibiotics, and it did improve things a little. His stomach seemed to hurt less, which was nice, and the frequency of changing him declined a little - we were up to 10 or 12 dirty diapers a day a few weeks ago, and now it's more like three or four. But I'm still not convinced that there isn't something wrong with his tummy.
His poo is currently pink. Yup, pink. Obviously I'm thinking the pink strawberry PediaSure is responsible for this, but I have NEVER SEEN PINK POO BEFORE. It's freaking me out, to be honest. I mean, when he was on certain antibiotics his poo was a bit purple, or a bit orange, but never pink! It's alarming to unwrap a nappy and see that staring you in the face. Oh, and it's not consistently consistent, either. In the early mornings it might be almost as solid as a normal toddler's, but by 9am his 'present' is as runny as water. And they ALWAYS have a really unusual smell. There just doesn't seem to be any progress.
So what do I do? I don't know whether to just keep pumping the PediaSure into him and keep my fingers crossed his body will eventually adapt, or whether to bother the GI clinic AGAIN with my concerns. I hate being that parent and I do my best to solve riddles by myself instead of bothering busy clinics, but until now I've always trusted my instincts and my instincts have always been right.
It's just that right now I'm not sure what my instincts are. Any thoughts?
Tina.
At the moment, my entire house smells like an odd combination of strawberries, vomited PediaSure and poo. I can't seem to escape it, no matter which room I go in to and I'm blamimg Little O.
According to our insurance plan, we are allowed to order two flavours of PediaSure a month. (The mind boggles as to why they think a child will be content only eating two different things a month, but that's besides the point.) This month we have strawberry and chocolate, as well as some vanilla and banana cans left over from last month. We tried Little O out on the strawberry stuff and he LOVES it! Normally he couldn't give a toss when we offer him a drink, but now he's begun to lean forward and move his mouth towards his cup, asking for more. It's quite something, and we're doing our best to encourage it.
The vomiting still hasn't ebbed, which I predicted would happen. So now we have layers of stains on the living room carpet where he gets fed (I know, I know. I should be feeding him at the dining table like a 'proper' family, but when feeds take an hour you need to have SOMETHING to do that doesn't involve using your hands, and I'm afraid putting the telly on is a simple solution). These stains were once very white (Neocate), then cream (PediaSure), and now they're turning pink (strawberry PediaSure). It's quite revolting, but I'm afraid cleaning the carpets every day is just not going to happen. Which is why the house smells like strawberries and vomit.
The real problem is the poo, though. Little O is still training his digestive system on how to process longer protein strands, so he's creating dirty diapers several times a day. But now they're... interesting. They've changed colour so much during the last month or so that I'm still not sure what to do. The initial changes were attributed to a possible C. difficile infection, which was treated with antibiotics, and it did improve things a little. His stomach seemed to hurt less, which was nice, and the frequency of changing him declined a little - we were up to 10 or 12 dirty diapers a day a few weeks ago, and now it's more like three or four. But I'm still not convinced that there isn't something wrong with his tummy.
His poo is currently pink. Yup, pink. Obviously I'm thinking the pink strawberry PediaSure is responsible for this, but I have NEVER SEEN PINK POO BEFORE. It's freaking me out, to be honest. I mean, when he was on certain antibiotics his poo was a bit purple, or a bit orange, but never pink! It's alarming to unwrap a nappy and see that staring you in the face. Oh, and it's not consistently consistent, either. In the early mornings it might be almost as solid as a normal toddler's, but by 9am his 'present' is as runny as water. And they ALWAYS have a really unusual smell. There just doesn't seem to be any progress.
So what do I do? I don't know whether to just keep pumping the PediaSure into him and keep my fingers crossed his body will eventually adapt, or whether to bother the GI clinic AGAIN with my concerns. I hate being that parent and I do my best to solve riddles by myself instead of bothering busy clinics, but until now I've always trusted my instincts and my instincts have always been right.
It's just that right now I'm not sure what my instincts are. Any thoughts?
Tina.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
F*ckitty f*ck f*ck f*ck
So, I finished a copyediting project at the beginning of the week (a day early, I might add) and in my e-mail to the sub-editor, I casually mentioned that I hadn't yet been given a brief for Baby Names 2011 (US edition), and seeing as she had told me the manuscript needed to be finished by July, I wanted more information pretty sharpish. I mean, leaving me two and a half weeks to re-write an entire book wasn't really good enough. So she replied by thanking me for my copyedit, and told me that she hadn't yet been given the go-ahead for Baby Names 2011 (US), but she'd let me know as soon as she had.
Then today, I received an e-mail telling me it's no longer going ahead! Ahhhhhh!! Apparently their acquisitions department has royally screwed up, and they have to delay the title by another year ... which means it'll be Baby Names 2012 (US), and I'll start work next May. NEXT MAY!! Honey, I need that cheque THIS year, not next! And let me remind you, YOU approached ME about this title, not the other way around. I was quite content to just mooch along with the UK edition, but the second you told me Crimson was planning a US edition, I got all excited and essentially cleared some time so I could work on it. Now I have nothing. Nada. Zilch. I am at your mercy, and it's not something I'm remotely comfortabe with.
The other balls-up was that Mike forgot to put the bins out this morning. They collect recycling every other week, and now Little O's formula comes in handy-dandy pre-mixed cans, we have A LOT of recycling to get rid of. It's now going to stink up the garage for two weeks and multiply. And I am going to yell at Mike, because it was his fault.
Little O still has an upset stomach, and I've already changed him four times this morning (it's 9.20am). The GI clinic called me back yesterday and they're putting him on some kind of bacteria-bustin' medication because they reckon his digestive tract is still trying to figure out the new formula and is working overtime, producing too much bacteria and whipping food through him too quickly. He's hasn't gained any weight in over a month (hasn't lost any either though, which I suppose is something) and just seems pretty miserable these days. His poor little bottom is absolutely COVERED in a rash, too, because sometimes his poop doesn't smell and I don't catch it in time, so he has to sit in it for a while. The rash has been bleeding the last couple of days, so the GI clinic has also prescribed some fancy-schmancy cream to help clear things up. Poor little baby. I feel very helpless and sorry for him.
Immunology appointment this afternoon. Fingers crossed things aren't THAT bad and he dosn't need transfusions or a bone marrow transplant ... I'll post more once we've seen the docs.
Then today, I received an e-mail telling me it's no longer going ahead! Ahhhhhh!! Apparently their acquisitions department has royally screwed up, and they have to delay the title by another year ... which means it'll be Baby Names 2012 (US), and I'll start work next May. NEXT MAY!! Honey, I need that cheque THIS year, not next! And let me remind you, YOU approached ME about this title, not the other way around. I was quite content to just mooch along with the UK edition, but the second you told me Crimson was planning a US edition, I got all excited and essentially cleared some time so I could work on it. Now I have nothing. Nada. Zilch. I am at your mercy, and it's not something I'm remotely comfortabe with.
The other balls-up was that Mike forgot to put the bins out this morning. They collect recycling every other week, and now Little O's formula comes in handy-dandy pre-mixed cans, we have A LOT of recycling to get rid of. It's now going to stink up the garage for two weeks and multiply. And I am going to yell at Mike, because it was his fault.
Little O still has an upset stomach, and I've already changed him four times this morning (it's 9.20am). The GI clinic called me back yesterday and they're putting him on some kind of bacteria-bustin' medication because they reckon his digestive tract is still trying to figure out the new formula and is working overtime, producing too much bacteria and whipping food through him too quickly. He's hasn't gained any weight in over a month (hasn't lost any either though, which I suppose is something) and just seems pretty miserable these days. His poor little bottom is absolutely COVERED in a rash, too, because sometimes his poop doesn't smell and I don't catch it in time, so he has to sit in it for a while. The rash has been bleeding the last couple of days, so the GI clinic has also prescribed some fancy-schmancy cream to help clear things up. Poor little baby. I feel very helpless and sorry for him.
Immunology appointment this afternoon. Fingers crossed things aren't THAT bad and he dosn't need transfusions or a bone marrow transplant ... I'll post more once we've seen the docs.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Oh. My. Good. God.
First off, I couldn't weigh myself this morning because before I could, the toilet overflowed.
Mike gets up earlier than me (at 5am, which is plainly ridiculous), and this morning he took the opportunity a dark, quiet house offered him and spent some time on the toilet doing whatever it is men do in there for sooooo long. After he left (5.30am: still ridiculous), I slept for another hour or so, then got up at 7am to start my day. I went in to the bathroom, lifted the lid of the toilet, and noticed that Mike either hadn't flushed when he'd finished, or our toilet was clogged. So, because it was 7am and I'm not at my most coherent at that time of the morning, I decided to give it another flush to *ahem* help things along.
Oh. My. Good. God.
The toilet literally vomited out its entire contents on to the bathroom floor, including everything Mike had deposited there earlier. I think I screamed, or whimpered, or did something fairly sissy-ish, and then grabbed some old towels and literally threw them on the floor, thinking this would somehow help. It did not. To use the term "chunky water" is not something I do light-heartedly, but I feel it's appropriate in this instance. It was brown, yellow and had dark chunks of godawfulness floating in it. I then jumped over the towels on to a dry patch and chucked down the pan some de-clogging gel we have in the cupboard, shut the door and scarpered. This, my dear friends, is MIKE'S FAULT, and I am fully prepared to sacrifice some towels and bathmats if it means I don't have to *literally* clean up my husband's shit.
I did tell him about it though. I didn't let him discover it for himself at a later time. That would have just been cruel.
So, after this incident at 7am, I realised I was running late. Owen had to up, changed and eating by 8am, and I had to have the house clean, myself dressed and him done with refluxing by 10am because the Occupational Therapist was coming over for an assessment. I think Owen knew how stressed I already was, because halfway through his feed he took supreme pleasure in doing one of the largest dumps he's ever done, and it exploded out of his nappy on to his back, legs, highchair, blankets and, once I got him on to the floor to change him, the carpet, his hands and some of me.
Oh. My. Good. God.
I got him cleaned up, met with the OT, fed Owen again and made it to CHOW with about ten minutes to spare. Met with his Craniofacial doctor (the one we don't like) and his fabulously glam new nurse (whom we do), and left CHOW feeling much more upbeat. So upbeat, in fact, I turned up the stereo and put my foot down on the motorway. The speed limit went down to 55mph at one point due to road works, so I natually slowed down a little bit, then when it changed back to 65mph, I sped up to 73mph. This is the speed I normally do on the motorway, and as I'm constantly being overtaken my other vehicles doing in excess of 80mph, I think nothing of it. Today, this was not the case.
Oh. My. Good. God.
Not ONLY did I get my first ever speeding ticket, but because I sped up to 73mph coming out of a 55mph work zone, my fine was doubled.. DOUBLED!! I have gone from having a clean, perfect driving record to points on my licence and a $236 fine. I was gobsmacked. Well behaved in front of the police officer, but gobsmacked. And I'm too ashamed to tell Mike. I may have seen his shit, but telling him I have a speeding ticket is cheek-burning embarrasing because I'm always crowing my superior driving skills at him.
After all this nonsense I decided to call my sister in the UK to find out about her weekend under some Icelandic volcanic ash, and whether or not she made it to her friend's wedding out in Ireland, but our sodding phones kept disconnecting and I only got as far as Owen's blowout. This is too bad, because I really, really, REALLY need to vent.
They say things come in threes, but my day has already had so much crap in it (literally!), that I'm just expecting more of the same later on. What a disasterous Monday.
Tina.
Mike gets up earlier than me (at 5am, which is plainly ridiculous), and this morning he took the opportunity a dark, quiet house offered him and spent some time on the toilet doing whatever it is men do in there for sooooo long. After he left (5.30am: still ridiculous), I slept for another hour or so, then got up at 7am to start my day. I went in to the bathroom, lifted the lid of the toilet, and noticed that Mike either hadn't flushed when he'd finished, or our toilet was clogged. So, because it was 7am and I'm not at my most coherent at that time of the morning, I decided to give it another flush to *ahem* help things along.
Oh. My. Good. God.
The toilet literally vomited out its entire contents on to the bathroom floor, including everything Mike had deposited there earlier. I think I screamed, or whimpered, or did something fairly sissy-ish, and then grabbed some old towels and literally threw them on the floor, thinking this would somehow help. It did not. To use the term "chunky water" is not something I do light-heartedly, but I feel it's appropriate in this instance. It was brown, yellow and had dark chunks of godawfulness floating in it. I then jumped over the towels on to a dry patch and chucked down the pan some de-clogging gel we have in the cupboard, shut the door and scarpered. This, my dear friends, is MIKE'S FAULT, and I am fully prepared to sacrifice some towels and bathmats if it means I don't have to *literally* clean up my husband's shit.
I did tell him about it though. I didn't let him discover it for himself at a later time. That would have just been cruel.
So, after this incident at 7am, I realised I was running late. Owen had to up, changed and eating by 8am, and I had to have the house clean, myself dressed and him done with refluxing by 10am because the Occupational Therapist was coming over for an assessment. I think Owen knew how stressed I already was, because halfway through his feed he took supreme pleasure in doing one of the largest dumps he's ever done, and it exploded out of his nappy on to his back, legs, highchair, blankets and, once I got him on to the floor to change him, the carpet, his hands and some of me.
Oh. My. Good. God.
I got him cleaned up, met with the OT, fed Owen again and made it to CHOW with about ten minutes to spare. Met with his Craniofacial doctor (the one we don't like) and his fabulously glam new nurse (whom we do), and left CHOW feeling much more upbeat. So upbeat, in fact, I turned up the stereo and put my foot down on the motorway. The speed limit went down to 55mph at one point due to road works, so I natually slowed down a little bit, then when it changed back to 65mph, I sped up to 73mph. This is the speed I normally do on the motorway, and as I'm constantly being overtaken my other vehicles doing in excess of 80mph, I think nothing of it. Today, this was not the case.
Oh. My. Good. God.
Not ONLY did I get my first ever speeding ticket, but because I sped up to 73mph coming out of a 55mph work zone, my fine was doubled.. DOUBLED!! I have gone from having a clean, perfect driving record to points on my licence and a $236 fine. I was gobsmacked. Well behaved in front of the police officer, but gobsmacked. And I'm too ashamed to tell Mike. I may have seen his shit, but telling him I have a speeding ticket is cheek-burning embarrasing because I'm always crowing my superior driving skills at him.
After all this nonsense I decided to call my sister in the UK to find out about her weekend under some Icelandic volcanic ash, and whether or not she made it to her friend's wedding out in Ireland, but our sodding phones kept disconnecting and I only got as far as Owen's blowout. This is too bad, because I really, really, REALLY need to vent.
They say things come in threes, but my day has already had so much crap in it (literally!), that I'm just expecting more of the same later on. What a disasterous Monday.
Tina.
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