Our adventure with Cloth NappiesJune 11, 2015
I was in love with the idea of cloth nappies when I was pregnant. Big fabric squares and nappy pins were out making way for brightly coloured, elastic encased, shaped nappies. I set out firmly believing we would end up ‘mixing’ disposable and cloth nappies. The only hurdle was the price, I couldn’t believe how big an investment they were, I’ll admit I only had the courage to buy from the cheapest end of the scale.
We bought 6 in the first batch and a further 13 once I realised I would actually use them. The faithful one size (which we plumped for) really didn’t fit well enough for the first 4 months or so. No smaller newborn size for us.
Thankfully babies grow and here we now are being so very environmentally friendly. Was it my care for the world that drove me, or the sheer cuteness in the designs, or perhaps the natural fabric… nope – it was simple economics. I’m the first to admit disposables are easier, plus I made all the rookie mistakes.
Out of the wrapping and into the machine? I can sadly testify they need those 3-5 washes they say! In sheer joy that they are finally ready to be used, you whip out a nappy and an insert pad and try to side the latter into the former – note : sliding one piece of fluffy fabric along plastic backed fabric should be a ‘minute to win it’ game. Then comes the HUGE (but optional) nappy liners we split into 3 – cue scissors, and if that outfit was a little snug before you started you’ve no hope now. Finally it’s on, you feel triumphant, sit back and admire your eco-friendly, penny saving work… just for a short time at least.
Oh yes, I did end up covered in pee! I knew deep down that the magic expanding chemical gel stuff they put in disposables wasn’t there, that moisture will soak through, it’s the nature of fabric, but still we forget. Ergo more frequent trips to the changing mat and an extra plastic lined bag. The bit I dreaded was washing itself. The first try I hand washed and it took 2 days to dry – oh, a not very eco tumble drier is recommended, something we can’t afford or fit one in the house. However, washing turned out to be an unfounded dread – unravel, pull apart and throw in the machine as you go, add half a measure of washing powder and it’s done. OK, you may want a clothes peg for the noggin, but it’s a short lived meh.
It was a bit of a rocky start, they cluttered the drawer for a while, but now our clothes horse sports nappies 2-3 times a week – the sun dries them off in an hour or so. Once you realise they need to be stored pre-assembled and get into the habit of checking the leg elastic regularly, you fall in love with the bright fun things, or at least your wallet will. The more they are used the better they adsorb and the more the associated habits form. We revert back to disposables through the night and every time we leave the house for more than half an hour, but as long as the hot weather lasts we’ll be providing views of a beautifully coloured or patterned baby bottom.
UnawareJune 8, 2015
Yesterday was switch off Sunday. It was a CMS community thing, and to be honest that’s the reason I took part. Switching off is awkward for a household whose life is pretty much fed and watered by the internet, just 10 days after a 3 day internet blackout made the date mildly ironic. Yet, though our attempt was somewhat half-hearted, it did make me think and consider how much energy and stuff we waste.
For me, switching off meant I didn’t get the washing done, didn’t use my computer and tried not to use my other electronic devices. While Facebook and my Sunday quiet time ritual may have missed out other things benefited. We sat together for a lovely home cooked meal, enjoyed fresh produce from the market and store on our doorstep, and played games and puzzles which stretched our minds and left graphite dust across the table.
I had only really planned one activity and that was to finish stitching Adam’s t-shirt. Waste is a huge environmental issue and some baby clothes are so easy to re-purpose. We have loads of long sleeve baby-grows that are ending their life but only a couple of t-shirts which are so useful to put on when bouncing around the house in a fabric nappy. Cue scissors, a garbled prayer of thanks for non-fray fabric, and viola! OK, I’m not gong to win any fashion awards, especially as the cut line isn’t even that straight, but it lives another few weeks and helps save a few pennies along the way.
We throw away so much, recycling is in it’s infancy here and the garbage pile on the outskirts of town has begun to tower in the last few years. I’ve never been very passionate about environmental causes but I do believe we are called to care for, rather than destroy, our world, and frankly it’s much easier to do the latter. While recycling struggles others aspects thrive. Many people here grow their own, markets are big, produce seasonal and if it can be re-sold it probably is going to be. Serbia is the first place I’ve actually found one of those service centres where they mend your appliance under warranty, the city is full of them, real places you can go into to replace the handle or half a set of whisks. It may sometime require extra effort, but there is a beauty in knowing your trash can is a little emptier and that mountain may grow just a touch slower. Plus there is always the sobering thought – just because I’m not an eco warrior doesn’t mean Adam won’t be.
Celebrating the childJune 5, 2015
The dawning of June is the time our city really celebrates being young. May bid farewell with Baby Exit – a kids version of the city’s major festival. The fortress boasts mini stages where judo meets ballet and various other costumed groups perform for parents and passers-by alike. Fire trucks open their door and hand over helmets for pictures while policemen turn performers. Amidst tables of kids drawing, sweetie stalls and fair rides the usually subdued fortress buzzes.
Skip forward a few days and into June proper and the action moves down into the city centre. Substantial set-up’s dominate the city square where street art, men in costumes and fine dance vie for attention. The main street is a slalom of helium balloons, street entertainment and outdoor speakers. Candy-floss and the more permanent popcorn stands fragrance the air as proud parents tweak costumes or coax their young ones to interact with the free events.
The young are valued, their innocence precious, their enthusiasm infectious, and their energy seemingly boundless. It is no surprise to me that Jesus chose these as examples of how our faith should be. Their power is just as much potential as realised, their imagination not shackled by preconceived realities and their footing confident yet so fragile. Oh that our faith could be so, to daily see heaven on earth and yet the greater heaven to come, to throw out the limitations we have placed and instead believe that our faith can really move mountains, to walk confidently into each challenge we meet, knowing their will be a cost but not counting it. All our doctrine, all our legality, our arguments and schism pale in the face of a child – and at our core we really are just children of a heavenly father who loves us, brothers and sisters squabbling but bound by blood, insecure infants loved beyond any understanding.