Wednesday, August 10, 2011

camping and cloth... a love story

It's hard to believe that just over a year ago I was excitedly and anxiously opening a package of brand-new cloth diapers.  I had no idea what to expect: Would I have the will power to dunk my hands into a toilet bowl to pre-wash a soiled diaper?

Now here we are, camping with cloth diapers.  Yes.  It can be done.

I will admit, I was hesitant; in fact, last year on our annual, week-long, family camping trip we took along disposables.  This year, money concerns pushed us into the budget zone we were all afraid of and yet, serendipitously, now found ourselves in.  Convincing my husband was the easy part - figuring out what our process would be was another story.

I spent the days leading up to our big adventure doing as much research as I could.  Googling "cloth diaper camping", "camping with cloth diapers", "boiling and line-drying cloth diapers", etc.  After a few helpful tidbits from fellow nature-enthusiasts, I began the trip with an apprehensive confidence (that is, apprehensive on the inside, confident on the outside).

1. Bring on the flats.  We already use flat cloth diapers, but our reusable wipes are double-layered.  It was near impossible to get the wipes completely clean and stain-free because you can't scrub the inside layer.  The flats, however, have never had it so good.

2. Soaking tub, folded tarpprepping tub, boiling tub.  Yes, we needed all four for the process to work seemlessly.  After removing the soiled diaper we removed any solids, as usual, then put the flat in a wet pail (soaking tub) with just water.  The next morning, once there were enough to wash, I emptied the soaking tub and put the flats into the prepping tub to wash.  Cool water, flats, and a little bit of Earth-friendly-water-soluble detergent.  Scrub like the old days (pretend you're the barefoot old lady in a black-and-white picture with a washboard and a song... song optional). Rinse, wring-out and toss on the tarp.  Once they've all been washed and rinsed, put them in the boiling tub with (obviously) boiling water for around 15 minutes.  Wring-out and line-dry.

3. Enjoy.  There is nothing I've found as meditative as hand-washing and line-drying, especially out in the sunshine with a cup of coffee.  Perhaps the only match is taking them off, pin by pin, and folding them into tightly-bundled rectangles of love.

The process does take almost two hours and then a wait while they dry, but, hey, you're camping so what else do you have to do?  It seemed to always work out that my wash-rinse-boil-hang time landed right in Neila's morning nap so I was free to take my time and relax.  I also noticed the last day that there was a particularly strange (and aggressive) flying insect (about two inches in length) that really loved to land on the dry diapers when they were warm on the line so I'm going to remember to remove them promptly next time... it creeped me out.

Thank you: Google research, Jila and Joel's boiling pot, and my amazingly easy-going and supportive husband.  I like to think that much more than Mother Earth was saved this camping trip... I also saved twenty bucks in disposable diapers.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

I like to move it, move it...

It's summer! It's raining! I'm unemployed! But, believe it or not, this has so far been the best summer of our lives! Have you ever had one of those moments when you realize you only intended to go down a road for a little while, but suddenly more time had passed and you weren't quite sure how to get back on track? We had one of those moments this year; this particular moment led to some pretty frantic get-out-of-here-immediately planning, and that very planning happily led us to this very moment.

Moving with a toddler (yes, she's a toddler now!). Whew. Well, once you get passed the twenty-hour drive, it's really not so bad. Here is the job-aid for moving a routine-oriented, my-way-or-the-highway, get-me-out-of-this-carseat, toddler:

1. Pack the bed. Neila's floor bed is the best thing that ever happened to our nighttime parenting; I can't imagine a single night without it which is why it comes with us everywhere we go. I don't think of the word "overnight" without thinking of the question "Will her bed fit there?". We turned our trip into a two-day event with an overnight campout in an Oregon campground (that happened to be flooded - good times). Yes, our daughter sleeps on a mattress when we camp, I'm not ashamed to admit it... okay, I'm a little ashamed... but since we've been in our new apartment, she has slept soundly without hiccup thanks to the consistency of her bed.

2. Two-boxes: one toys, one books. You know the old standbys that she can listen to and play with over and over and over (and over) again. They'll be reliable, comforting, and reassuring when nothing else looks familiar. Then when you unpack the rest of the goods, it'll be like Christmas!

3. Be calm, enjoy the ride... it's gonna suck. When we arrived in our new home everything went wrong: the apartment was not cleaned or move-in ready from the old tenants, the moving company we hired doubled their estimate and the ETA on our stuff, and we were completely broke and unemployed. What I wanted to do most in the world is sit down, cry, and then punch somebody. But when you have a toddler looking to you for reassurance and guidance, you have to be reassuring and guiding. Force yourself to roll with the punches (even if you don't get to throw any). Give it up to the moving gods and let go of the fact that you can't control any of those things - what's done is done. You can complain to each other and freak out after she goes to sleep. During those waking hours though, we're all smiles, playing at the park, walking through neighborhoods, and spending hours climbing up and down stairs -- life is good and all is right with the world.

First impressions of Seattle: beautiful, friendly, exciting! Every morning I've had I've thought to myself "I can't believe we live here!" it's that gorgeous. Yes, it has rained twice and it's summer, but without the rain, it wouldn't be so pretty. I'll remind myself of that in the winter when it rains every day (and the fall and the spring). Until then we have three months to soak in the summer (even if it does rain a little) and explore our new community.