As Prius-driving, Obama-voting, hummus-eating, organic-cotton-wearing, reduce-reuse-recycling hippies, Leanne and I use cloth diapers. We are pretty happy with them. You can read my previous post about the diapers to get the full review.
But, in the spirit of Tiger Woods, I need to make an admission. I have cheated on you, cloth diapers. I am sorry for the hurt that I have caused you. You see, when Leanne, Olive, and I go away for a weekend and we leave you behind – we haven’t been alone. There have been other diapers. Lots of other diapers.
Let me try to explain. If we take a trip for a few days, there just simply aren’t enough of you to satisfy Olive. Even if it is just a short trip we would need to bring ALL of you along. And you are, well, bulky. I’m not calling you fat, but those disposable diapers are so slim! We can pack 30 of them in the space that it would take to carry only a half dozen of you guys. Then we would need to find a Laundromat to wash you, and I know you hate those. And when we are away from home, well, it feels weird to store and transport poop. There might even be laws about transporting human waste across state lines. You understand, right? Plus, how are we supposed to explain to the maid at the hotel that no, really, we would like to KEEP that bag of human excrement.
I know, I know. You have been there for us for months. We have been through so much together. Remember when Olive started sleeping through the night? You were there. How about when we switched from breast milk to formula and Olive’s poop REALLY started to stink. You didn’t bat a Velcro tab. Then we introduced solid foods and you took it all in stride.
But really, the disposables don’t mean a thing. I mean, we use them once and then throw them away. We always come back to you.
Well, okay, here is another admission. When I’m away, and we are using the disposable diapers…I like it. I like that I don’t get poop on my hand as I try to shake it into the toilet. I like that I can wrap the disposable up into a neat little ball and throw it into the trash. I like it that I don’t need to wash them. They just do their duty and I never see them again. It’s all so, so, clean! But I feel so dirty.
I know, I know, there is no relationship there. It doesn’t mean anything. They are all one-poop stands! That’s why we always come back to you. When we come home, Olive goes right back into your soft, comforting, bulkiness. We think she looks cute with her gigantic behind stretching her pants to the limit. We don’t mind that she can’t fit in to baby jeans because of you, really! You are so much better for the environment. We love not having trash bags full dirty disposable diapers every week. You come in so many different colors! Disposables have to try and spice up their whiteness with little Disney characters. They look so cheap. You are sophisticated. We really love how you don’t demand much from us. We just buy you once and you’re with us for life. We would have to buy package after package of those disposables. And then they want us to buy some sort of Genie!
So, to close, I’m sorry if we have hurt you, cloth diapers. But we aren’t going into therapy. We aren’t going to stop. The affair will continue. You will have to get used to this dual life we lead. You’ll always be our first choice, you’ll always be in our home, but when we go away, disposables will be in our bag.