being green baby bums

If you are not a mama who is slightly interested in cloth diapering then you might as well stop reading now.
When I titled this blog, "being green" a few years ago I had in mind the simple everyday life of our family and what it means to just be in the moments. I had no idea how culturally relevant the phrase would become or that I could have panties with the phrase emblazoned across my rear, or any other article of clothing for that matter. Yes, "being green" is definitely very hip at the moment. Though this was not my intention with the name of our blog, I do feel strongly that God has given us dominion of this beautiful earth to protect and preserve. It is important to be mindful of even the small ways that we can do just that.

Okay , down from my soapbox and on to the point of this post. After years of trying different things in diapering and surveying lots of other moms I think I've figured out a few things by trial and error. I thought perhaps I could save some moms some trouble and maybe encourage others to at least consider giving it a try.

They have made some advances in diapering from what our moms used for us. With the current state of our economy, lots of families are looking for ways to save money and make ends meet. Spending less money on disposable diapers is one practical way to save. With the price of food and gas lately decent cloth diapers are a worthy investment. Here are a few that have worked the best for me, the Motherease one-size with wrap, and the bamboo Bum-Genius. I recently got way too excited when I passed Bum Genius cloth diapers in the aisles of Target! Oh, another reason to love that store. After trying several, my favorite diaper is made by a Danish company I found on ebay; they are similar to Motherease but thicker and softer and made from bamboo velour and are worth the nine dollars they cost. You can read about the benefits of bamboo fiber for your babies skin here . The Bum Genius bamboo diapers took forever to dry because of there absorbency but the Danish ones dry easily in the dryer or sun. I use them with the Bummis Super whisper wrap which keeps the wet in but also is breathable. The wraps can be purchased locally at Greenlife or on line.
I use them mostly at home but disposable when we are out since it is a little more of a production and I don't want to give Juden and Ella any extra time to caress the surfaces of public bathrooms. Yes, they are a little more work, but worth it for the benefits, which are:

1 It feels good when the trash bag going to the dumpster, then the land-fill is a little lighter.

2 You end up saving $money$.

3 It is so nice holding a baby with a cushy soft natural bum.

4 They look very cool with pink patent leather boots( at least Naya seems think so.)




Check out this pose, is she a superb diaper model or what? I 'm sure she'll brag about it someday.

safe place

It seems that there is a sub-conscious theme of thankfulness in a lot of what I write here. I guess I don't feel as motivated to write about the personal failures, the lost temper, the worry over money, the harsh tone of voice, the fear, and pride,the ugly things, that I wish I could purge forever from my soul, and replace with truth and justice, and love to where it just pours out of me. Surely those things are there, with nagging questions I can not answer and sorrows just beneath the surface. What I write here, are mostly things I never want to forget, the things I am so deeply and overwhelmingly thankful for. I think almost everyday something stops me in my tracks, and takes my breath away with joy-love-gratitude or some equivalent to complete contentedness.
The other day I walked through the perfect morning light with Naya strapped to my back, making sweet little humming noises while Juden and Ella tumbled excitedly down the path filling their treasure baskets with leaves and acorns and wild flowers. And it hit me then. The way the sun fell soft on their faces, the wonder, the green aliveness, and it made me pause, to tuck it away somewhere inside me.




The other day Juden, who is becoming very tender-hearted, in an innocent voice asked me, "Why can't we see God?" and then he said that he would like to.
There it was again, that same feeling.
And then this morning I knelt beside a white-haired woman in her nineties who was not in good shape, and seemed quite incapable of even sitting up. I said "hello there, how are you?" To which she responded with a look of complete sincerity, "just wonderful." For her, years of laughter and family, health and adventure were days long gone. Yet, was there something inside her that made her not just okay, but wonderful despite a body that had all but given out on her, in a place surrounded by strangers? How I want to cultivate that kind of inner peace and joy, by God's grace that enables me to be thankful even in hard things, even in my twilight. I wonder why it seems that often the people that have suffered hard things are the same ones with a spirit of gratefulness.

I know this is a rambly post; I guess I'm in a rambly mood. I must also mention how thankful I am for my husband, with whom I am so smitten. It was a good design, this whole partnering thing. I don't know how I'd do it without him. Last weekend Josh and I went mountain biking. Did you catch that I said Josh and I, meaning not the helmets galore, sippy cups and trailers and baby seats, a-circus-is-coming-your-way kind of biking. This was the light, free, I-can-go-as-fast-as-I-like-down- rocky-narrow-trails kind of biking. Needless to say,this kind of biking doesn't happen too often for me anymore. Josh on the other hand who does not have a ton of height but has what I call power-house legs, rides a whole lot. After we did the trail my out-of-shape self was panting up a steep road and suddenly I felt Josh's hand, firm on my back, powering me up that hill and uttering words of encouragement the whole way. It is not the first time that he's done that. We love to ride together but I am just not as adept of a bicycler. I can't help but smile when I feel that hand reminding me of his strength and how I love to lean on him. I have never had much confidence and Josh seemed to get an extra dose. The hand on my back felt like such a tangible reminder of his voice over the years, saying,"sing, write, create, love, let it shine." The gentle ways his love has helped me see myself through God's eyes, and that my worth comes from Christ alone, nothing else. Anyway we reached the top and collapsed in a sweaty heap, chests heaving and staring at the clouds above the strangely vacant mountain. And there it was again, a moment that makes you stop breathless, and tuck it away in that safe place.

flying

Mama: What's your favorite color?
Ella: purple.

Mama: What's your favorite animal?
Ella: Mmm...Ella the elegant elephant.

Mama: Who do you want to marry when you get to be a big girl?
Ella: Umm, I fink Juden or Nana.

Mama: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Ella: A flower.

river

On Labor Day we decided to take a little day trip. I haven't left town all summer and lately I've been feeling the itch for something new; a change of scenery. Thinking of the days before bambinos, of spontaneous road trips and cheap motels, diners that smell like stale coffee and cigarettes, fields of flowers and perfect little off the road camp spots. I remember well Josh, on his back on a bed of pine needles strumming this song with only the wind in the trees accompanying, and the smell of fire and leaves in the air. Hmmm.. it's been too long. I want to be in the woods away from everything for awhile, soon hopefully. Okay, so it's slightly more work than it used to be, and instead of a backpack we need a wheelbarrow or u-haul to carry our gear. Maybe anyone that camps within a 5 mile radius is going to hate us when the cries of disoriented babies are echoing through the trees at 5 in the morning, but still so worth it, right?

Any way we took a little drive up to Harrison Bay State Park and mountain biked a lake side trail there, had a picnic and then went to the Ocee River and let the kids wade and watch the kayakers. It was so refreshing to feel the cold river water and to have whole day just to roam and play. I've still got a case of wanderlust at the moment, but the day felt so renewing that I'm really quite content to stay put and just daydream awhile. The day ended holding a naked little Naya, fresh out of the tub and smelling like milk and honey shampoo, limp and sleepy from her day's adventure. I kind of wanted to just hold her like that all night. We're hanging on to our summer days by a thread, what a good way to end this one.


Oh, and I'm still trying to decide what I want to do about the MP3. It seems I'll have to make a music website and link to that, so we'll see.

music making

I promised to tell you of the latest musical happenings in our household,and our attic has been bursting with sound as of late, so here it is. A little while back a good friend and songwriter, Jade asked if I wanted to record some with him. Since then we have slowly but surely been plugging away at reworking some of his songs and covering some other old, nostalgic type songs,and writing some new songs as well. Josh is recording it, which he has never done before, and is figuring it out quickly as we go. It kind of amazes me how my husband is good at most things he tries, all those buttons and wires and switches look so daunting to me. Josh is playing the drums and a little accordion and we are working with a few other friends. Some of you may not even know it yet, but we may come knocking on your door.

It is so nice to finally be able to work on music with Josh, something I have long wanted to do. Working through this whole creative process has been so very good for my soul. A little outlet from my mommy days, to fulfill this inherent need to create, to share, to sing. If you know me, you know I can't stand the spot-light. I've never been one to look for a stage. I don't care about making money or having a "commercially successful" album. I have no illusions of grandeur, there is nothing incredible or unique about my voice.With my feet firmly planted in my thirties I don't care about being hip. Sometimes we laugh at our own quirkiness and that our tastes sometimes might reflect more of our grandparents than our peers on songs like Edel'veis. Now if that hasn't sold you on making sure you get your hands on this album, then I don't know what will.
In all honesty though, it has been so very freeing to create without any pressure or expectation or even a clear picture of what it will take shape into by the end. I want it to be true, to be soulful and so far I think we have been successful at that. It has been an honor to be working with Jade, who in my opinion is a stellar musician. I want it to be something to give to my kids and friends, a gift to us that you might listen.
I just love, love, love to sing. I always have, my mom said I was like a little songbird in the house singing or humming through everything I did. Once when I was around six I serenaded my captive audience family, trapped in the station wagon, with one song the entire way from NJ to Chicago. Just like music was for me as a little girl, it is now, worship, comfort, a voice to things that can't come out any other way. I can in no way parallel myself to this melodic genius except to say I like how she put the need for music in this peculiarly charming interview. She said that language alone is like trying to fit an ocean through a straw... but with music... it doesn't feel like that.

I was going to end this post with a sneak preview of our work in progress but I am not a techie girl and have no idea how to put an MP3 on a blog.

photo shoot

I have been wanting to practice with my new camera on things other than my most favorite subjects, my three bambinos. Aimee indulged me and let me take some pictures of her. It was very refreshing to shoot someone who doesn't require bribes and tickling to capture them. It doesn't hurt any that my brother married a girl who looks like a Greek goddess. Isn't she lovely?

my mom

I can't go to bed without wishing my mama some birthday love today. My days meld together in a blur of cooking, laundry, diapers, breaking up fights, endless hugs and conversations that make my heart melt. Being a mom is such an amazing thing. The continual process of little steps of letting go from the moment they leave the safety of our body. The endless sacrifices, nurture, exhaustion and indescribable joy in the midst of it all. My heart gets heavy at the thought of Juden starting Pre-K and soccer and the growing independence of this little fellow who has spent almost every minute of his life by my side. This thing of motherhood is a strange,scary and beautiful thing, being given these precious and fleeting lives. It has all deepened my appreciation for the one who watched my first breath and has nurtured and given of herself to me for all my 30 years. I'm sure it doesn't seem like that long ago that she had five little people to feed and nurture, and listen to, and worry over, and she did it well.

Tonight I read Ella a book my mom used to read to me and I found myself lost in the whimsical pictures and the sound of my moms' voice. She helped me to love words and reading; she filled our house with music and helped me be passionate about it. She taught me how to treat people and not to be selfish. She seemed to have faith in me when I'd lost it in myself. I just really love her and I hope I can be half the mother she was to me.

this week

I joined in on 31 days of photos over here a while back. I know I'm pretty camera happy but I definitely don't usually take pictures every day. I got a late start but I'm trying to keep up with it. I have always searched out beauty in things; my eyes always scanning the horizon for those bright spots in the mundane. What's amazing is that when you are attuned to light and color and shadows, fewer sights seem prosaic. I like looking at things through a lens and I often see events and encounters in a series of frozen frames of light, color, angles and textures. Most of these are shots I didn't end up using at the photo blog. Here's some glimpses of the last week through my eyes.

tea time

If you know anyone from England you probably know that those Brits are serious about their tea. I think I mentioned how my dad would try to urge me and my brothers and sisters to join him for his afternoon, (or morning, evening, or nightcap for that matter)cup of tea. To him it was more than just a little caffeine fix. It was part of what was his home, a few minutes to slow down in a hectic day and sip a hot cupful. Most of time, when the kettle blew, we'd dash back to playing but sometimes we would sit with him and he'd scoop an extra spoon of sugar and milk so we'd like it.

When the girls are resting in the afternoon I have a habit of sitting down with a cup of tea. Lately Juden has been wanting to join me, which seems like a great excuse to make more of an affair out of it. I brew a whole pot and set out some tea biscuits and we chat away in fake British accents which, mind you, Juden is pretty good at. I make his extra sweet and think to myself how it would make my dad smile. And I get it... it is much better than drinking tea alone.


Oh, and if you really want to do tea time right, go visit this place.

my friend

Here she is; the girl at who's house I should have paid rent. She's been my best friend since third grade. We were the kind of friends that were inseparable. We spent many summer days at Nana's pool, most weekends were spent together and we could make each other laugh till one of us wet our pants (not me). I was often the only non-family member at birthday parties. I was nervous and proud as I watched her piano recitals. She willingly helped tutor me in math. There was a deep and abiding loyalty between us even as children. If there was ever tension between us it never lasted long. We were quite a pair.
Once we went to her families beach house and stole away down to the beach just before sunset, much to the dismay of her very cautious mother. We went from girls to women by each other's side. Once we spent a summer living in Wildwood New Jersey serving on a mission team there. Sometimes we would sit in the lifeguard stands at night when the beach was wide and empty with the lights and noise of the bustling boardwalk behind us. We'd talk and pray and wade in the oil black night ocean. We went to college together and married a couple of good friends. I thought we'd always live life by each other. She moved back to Philly and I stayed here. She had five children in eight years and I had three in three years. And so our story goes, our daily lives have become quite separate, but the miles have not come between our bond and kindredness.

We recently had the pleasure of having her family of seven come visit, which was wonderful, bittersweet, and too brief. At their arrival my eyes immediately fell upon the nine month old little bundle in her arms whom I had never met before. I tried to breath him in and memorize this adorable little stranger as much as I could. It made me happy to watch our kids laugh and play together even if Juden did refer to them most of the visit as "that boy" and "that girl."

At night when all the kids were peaceful I went to fix our tea and called to Vanessa," How do you take your tea?" I felt a little lump in my throat. Funny how such a little thing could get to you. But it brought to mind how difficult the miles make it to stay in tune with our daily lives. I don't like that our children don't know each other. I don't like that I don't know how she takes her tea. But, such is this journey of seasons and chapters. And honestly I feel like such a lucky girl to have had, and to always have, such a treasure of a friend.

our little girls

she remembers

A little while back we went to spend some time with Josh's little grandma. My time with her always feels bittersweet. The first time I met her she was quick to link her arm in mine and immediately made me comfortable in that grandmotherly tender way. Though I never really got close to her before she began to suffer from Alzheimer's disease.

I can say unequivocally that I hate this disease, anyone who's been touched by it can echo its devastation. There is often a look of utter confusion and fear in her eyes as she has no idea where she is or who we are. Little things we take for granted have become the most troublesome feats, like what to do with a tooth brush or a spoon. It breaks my heart to see her strain for the memories or the words. We all feel a little lost and a bit like a stranger from time to time, but to live in a constant state of disorientation, I can not imagine. So we are sure to say in loud clear voices, "Look at your beautiful grand-daughter Naya." and "so your grandson is four years old now," to help her know she is with her family.

Do we ever anticipate our body or our mind betraying us? One day do you just look down at your veins through paper-thin wrinkled skin and wonder when did this happen? Do we not feel just the same in our hearts as the years pass? With ageing comes so many endings and losses: loss of loved ones, of health, of energy, of clarity. Even with the promise of glory, and as natural as physical deterioration is, I don't think we're ever really ready for it. Our spirits weren't made for endings; they were made for eternity. It is this that makes the most natural process feel so completely un-natural and painful. I didn't mean to sound so dismal; my mind can just get lost in such things.
Betsy is certainly anything but dismal; through so much struggle she still takes so much joy in watching all her little great-grand babies. She may not know their names or gender but she laughs as she reaches for their soft hands and still has that protective mothering instinct whenever she's with them. My hilarious husband can still make her crack up with the most contagious giggle.
I watched her try to sing along as I sang hymns. But perhaps most amazing is that though the most ordinary bits of knowledge fail her she can sit down at her baby grand piano and from somewhere deep in her soul, she can play. Though they may start slow and she couldn't tell you their titles, song after song they come, "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", "New York, New York" and various other old-timey classics. She was once an accomplished classical pianist and by some measure of grace despite what she has lost, she can still remember how to play. As I watched her frail fingers grace the keys I thanked God that her passion for music was so embedded into her hard-drive that it now provides a place of peace and familiarity. How powerful music can be in that way and how much more beautiful.

studio attic

Josh and I used to joke when we bought our turn-of-the-century house that we lived in a Fight Club house. Meaning every square inch of it needed repair or updates. A half-lit fluorescent light dangled crookedly from wires over the greasy linoleum kitchen floor. The bathroom walls were spray-painted gold and sixties carpet adorned the floors. Broken windows and chipping paint abounded and, no lie, for about a week we washed dishes in a tub and went to the Conoco to use the bathroom. But we were first time home buyers, young and full of vision, so we just saw the history and charm of a beautiful old house with plenty of space to fill with wee ones. The stress set in later when we realized that every job would take twice the time and money we usually expected. Over the years with the helping hands of friends and family at times, he has done a wonderful job of restoring most of the house. He's had to do it all in his spare time and as children kept arriving, but I am so thankful for his hard work in making our home so comfy.
This summer project was to convert our decrepit attic,and home to the occasional pigeon, into a creative space to give drum lessons and record various musical projects. It is a relief to see it coming to and end, satisfying to be investing in our home and making a space to do something we both love. And check it out people, the finished product! I am so proud of him.






Juden and I have a new favorite place, this cozy reading nook.

I'll write more later on the music projects to come, but I'm gonna go hang with my love before he takes off for Ragbrai (which is a huge bike ride across Iowa) tomorrow for nine or so days. Oh, and to you ladies who will be on your own with the kiddos for the next week and a half, I'm sorry, I know my husband possesses some persuasive powers. But male bonding is good, no?