I as a woman sometimes take pride in what I do. I don't mean, in my work out in the working world, having the highest sales for an associate in 2005. Or becoming a member of a management team in record time. Although all those things make me happy I could accomplish them. I'm talking about being a mom. There is a certain level of pride that comes from someone trusting you to name, clothe, feed, pick schools for, apply believe systems to, take to countless birthday parties, and do dirty menial work for this tiny little BEING.
This time around I have decided to not only breastfeed but cloth diaper my darling baby. And today as I did the pain in the butt work of "stripping the diapers" I felt proud that as a woman, and the woman of my home it was my responsibility. Remember once a day I wash these darn things with hot water and a natural soap product that's suppose to not leave a heavy residue on the diapers. No baby butt rash for my sweety no way. Today I decided I was going to strip them to get rid of the "diaper skunk" that occurs after a number of uses. I mean shes poos and pees in these things, there is bound to be some smell. So there I was with a giant stock pot of boiling water with vinegar and two laundry baskets one for pre-stripped and one for after so that I can do a final wash on these things. I had a giant pair of tongs, and pink rubber gloves on I looked like I stepped out of a time machine. Simple, easy process, never fails, boiling the diapers like a green mommy I am.
About an hour later my very vivacious, and energetic 4 year old was complaining of freezing to death and all of a sudden yelled for a bucket...yup there she was sick with a fever and vomiting. So my green mommy pride took to a new level, the only person in the world able to make a Keeley feel better and keep an Elizabeth bum rash and smell free-well until she used them again.
Today I'm jumping on my mommy pedestal of pride. I'm very pleased with myself that I did those stupid diapers-which are washed, dried, stuffed, and put away. All the while I made my bigger baby girly feel better-even if it was with a new Dora book and snuggles galore. As horrible as it sounds as I nursed the youngest one, had clean diapers, and my oldest one was starting to look more like herself I was pretty damn grateful god made me a woman. Women's work makes one proud lady bitch!
