I got it I got it I got it I got it

I got the job!  :)

Of course I did.  Why wouldn't I?  As one of the interviewers pointed out, I'm more than qualified and I know I interview really well.  But still, the nerves always get to me and for days before the event I practiced my answers to questions while on the bog, or driving, or waiting for Little O to stop screaming like a banshee and go the fluck to sleep.  But I digress.  It was lovely to finally be back in a work environment, and now we move on to the next phase of sorting out Little O's daycare arrangements.

My husband's mother is coming to stay with us next week to learn the ropes of looking after Little O, and to help us out while I start my new position.  Initially we thought we were going to need her from Monday 4th Oct, but there was a huge balls-up with the drug test this afternoon and now I won't be able to start until Wednesday.  But no matter: it's nice that she's able (and willing, more importantly) to drop everything and visit us while we're in need.  Very, very nice.  The drug test incident, to clarify, wasn't an error on MY part.  I'm drug free.  In fact, the last pot I smoked was before Little O was even conceived, so it's not as though I'm having to wait to re-take the test or something.  No, the problem was that I arrived at the testing centre (center, I suppose) with a small child in tow.  Apparently some "parents" - I use the term loosely - have used their child's urine in place of their own to avoid detection, so now kids aren't allowed in.  I asked if Little O could stay outside the bathroom while I completed the test, but they don't have liability insurance or waivers so that wasn't allowed either.  So I was told to go away and find child care arrangements, and then come back by myself.  The whole thing is so infuriating, because if I'd been able to find someone to look after Little O this week, I would have started the new job earlier... grr...

Anyway, I'm taking the test Friday morning before my husband and I take Little O to get the results of his MRI test, so now the drug test results won't be available until Tuesday, which means I can't start until Wednesday.  I'm sure it doesn't send the greatest message to my new employers, but quite frankly they can lump it.  THEY'RE the ones who want my pee so badly, so they can jolly well wait until I'm ready to give it to them.

But I am excited.  And it's a contract-to-permanent position, which means even if they choose not to renew the contract come February, I already know in advance and can start looking for better paid other work.  Plus, if we do decide to have another baby (took a test or seven and I'm NOT currently pregnant... which is a bit of a relief now this job's come up) then I can take the third trimester easy at home, sitting on a comfortable cushion of hard-earned dollar bills, yo.

Yay for me!  I think Little O's good luck charm worked.  :)

Tina.

Stop being SO SMUG!

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.

My Feminist High Horse

Weight: ??

Who gives a toss?  It was Easter weekend!  Nom nom nom nom...

On to some more interesting stuff.  There was a very interesting article on The F Word last week called Fertile Feminism, all about being both a mother and a feminist.  It raises issues such as finding yourself excluded from demonstrations because they are un-child-friendly, or ending up being a stay-at-home parent (read: Mother) because someone's career had to give, and your's was the lesser-paid of the two.  Hmm.  I think I've felt that somewhere before...

Once again, let me say: I KNOW I am extremely fortunate to be able to stay at home with my son every day and watch him grow up.  I acknowledge that there must be millions of parents who want to have exactly what I have.  HOWEVER... the reality of raising him myself 80% of the time is something quite different to the rose-tinted image working parents have of staying at home. My life is basically all about nappies, sleep, appointments and the dreaded, ugly, frustrating feeds.  Yes, Owen makes me laugh, and yes, I love to watch him learn something new (currently it's bouncing in his exer-saucer... he's had it for the last six months and only just figured out the thing can mooooove), but at some point, every single flipping day for the last ten months, I have had a meltdown.  Usually it's crying, but it might also be some mild violence (doors are good for slamming and cushions just deserve to be thumped), or even me just putting my screaming baby in his cot and walking into another room for ten minutes to get a grip.  In short: staying at home for me every day has never been a choice; it's never felt like a choice; and I resent the "choice" my partner gets to make in my place.

Because I was made redundant when I was six months pregnant (once again: WHO DOES THAT?) and I wanted to pursue a different career anyway, it seemed logical that it should be my responsibility to take care of our child when he arrived.  Well, ten months down the line and nothing has changed.  Okay, my third book is being published at the end of the year, and I've been able to make a limited means doing something I enjoy, but essentially my career was over before it even began.  I've been trying to figure out how to get a part-time job in retail, but as Mike would have to look after Owen while I'm out, the only real hours I have free are evenings/nights and weekends, which mean I'd either get no sleep or have no free time with Mike.  Or both.  So once again, I am unable to bring in any sort of meaningful contribution to the household finances and I cannot tell you how much I HATE THAT.

I wish Owen were healthier for so many, many reasons.  I mourn the loss of the Owen I didn't get to know: the one who developed normally and is already starting to toddle around.  My Owen, my beautiful, sweet, stubborn Owen, has so many struggles and set-backs and yet he has the kindest, nicest temperament of any baby I currently know.  He only cries when he's very tired or if he's refluxing, and the rest of the time he's all smiles and cuddles and wriggly-bottoms.  I just wish that this lovely little boy were around all the time, because I know that in forty minutes I have to feed him again, and out will come the confused, in-pain baby I have to force to eat.  It's torture for both of us.  I wish he were healthier so he could enjoy his food and spend more time learning how to crawl, or stand, or play with blocks like other babies.  I also wish he were healthier so he didn't have to have his fourth surgery two days after his first birthday, and his fifth a month after that.  I wish he didn't have to adhere to such a tight schedule and he could just tell me when he was hungry, and again when he was full.  And I also wish he were healthier so I could let him play at a daycare centre once in a while and I could work.

I try so hard not to wish for things I cannot have, because it doesn't help me and it certainly doesn't help Owen, but...

I still do.

Tina.