Bringing Light Wherever You Go

Do you know what a smiling baby does to a grocery store?  He makes it a small piece of paradise.

When I go grocery shipping with my adorable son, he is in absolute bliss.  He sits in the front of the cart, looking around and thrilling in every new sight.  He babbles and waves his tiny arms, bounces like he's dancing.  He just loves every second of it.

And everyone who sees him is transformed.

I mean, I see people who look about as miserable as a person can look, suddenly convert their posture, facial expression and voice to something really pleasant.

Wells at 6 months old, his first ride in the front of the cart

I said to Wells the other day, as I pushed him along the aisles, "You know what, buddy, you make a lot of people happy."  And it makes me happy to see people like that.  It changes the whole experience of grocery shopping!

So I wonder, is this capability of carrying infectious joy limited to babies?  Could each of us bring a similar light with us everywhere we go?

I'm not saying you should grin inanely, wave your arms around and go hopping through a grocery store.  I'm not sure that would have the desired effect.  But is there a way to bring light with you wherever you go?

Here's what I can piece together. . .

1) Wells makes people happy because he's happy.  So to bring light I can try being happy!

2) People aren't afraid to smile and coo at Wells because he's not judging them (at least not more than, "Who is that funny lady?" kind of judging).  I can try not judging every person I see.  This is a tricky one because judging has a lot of nuances.  There is the really harsh kind of judgment, "Ugh.  What an idiot," or, "She looks like a real bitch." And then there are the subtler judgments, the assumptions.

One of the people who recently thrilled at Wells's cart time reverie was a man in his early twenties, shaved head and goatee, sleeveless shirt, lots of ink, with an armful of beer.  He wasn't the guy I would have expected to take notice of or interest in a baby (cue the judgment).    But as he walked towards us his face lit up in a huge smile.  "You're having more fun than anyone in here," he announced to my little one.  And that was the truth!

3) Wells returns people's smiles and they love it! I can try smiling at people (in a sane way).  This one should be fairly easy as long as I can remember follow steps 1 & 2, to stay happy and not judge.

Let's see what I can do to a grocery store even without my little cutie pie.

Plastic Pants are Out and Other Things I've Learned About Cloth Diapering

This is an update to April's post "A (Mother) Earth Day Crisis."

So picture it, I was an excited, environmentally conscious (and clueless!) mother-to-be, and I decided I wanted to help reduce my landfill contributions by using cloth diapers.  Wash them?  Ick!  I started the search for a service that would do it for me.  I thought surely people don't actually put their babies' dirty diapers in their own washing machines!  Actually, they do.  But more on that later.

I found a service.  It was a little pricey for the early months since tiny disposable diapers are cheaper than the larger ones.  But as the little one grew, the price would end up just slightly higher to use a cloth diaper service.  But like buying organic produce, wouldn't the little extra money be worth it?  I thought I had it all figured out.  And then the looks of disgust and disbelief started appearing as I shared my plan with women around me.

You're going to wash what?

These women meant no harm.  They knew a whole different world of cloth diapering.  Ask your mother what your car seat used to be like and then watch her face the first time you pop that infant carrier into the base in your backseat.  That's how far cloth diapers have come.  So below, I'd like to dispel a few of those myths and share some of my own experiences.

Listen, this is a diaper discussion.  If you're eating you might want to stop reading now.

Disgusting Myth #1 - You have to scrape out poop, dunk the diaper in the toilet, and otherwise engage in ridding the diaper of baby's number twos.  Your washing machine is really good at washing.  If you take the diaper and turn it upside down over the toilet and let what falls out fall, you can certainly wash the rest.  If you're baby has not started solids, those liquidy poops wash out without a problem.  The ones that are slightly more solid will wash out too, but you could scrape it into the toilet.  If it doesn't look to me like it would just fall right in, I don't even bother scraping.  No dunking necessary!  Are you kidding me?  That's gross!

Disgusting Myth #2 - Your house will smell disgusting.  If you go the cloth diaper route, you will need a diaper pail or lidded trash can.  They sell liners for the pails that get washed right along with the diapers.  You need to wash the diapers every 2-3 days (I wash every other day), and so far I have not had any house guests comment on an unpleasant odor.  Nor do I smell anything in the room where the diaper pail is unless I just opened it. I think you put the lid on and it's all good.

Disgusting Myth #3 - Your baby's behind will sweat in those plastic pants and he'll have diaper rash really bad.  There are tons of options for cloth diapers and most (in fact, the only ones I would use), do not involve plastic pants.  I use Kissaluv's Marvels All-in-Ones which have an absorbent inner layer and a waterproof outer layer.  It does get a little wetter in the cloth diapers than disposables because the disposables are filled with a polymer that wicks all moisture away.  My baby has not has a diaper rash in his life; these diapers do not create that problem.

Wells sporting his Kissaluvs diaper

Disgusting Myth #4 - You have to carry that s#*t around with you!  This myth is partially true.  If your child goes to a daycare or if you're out and about and you need to change him, you will have to carry the dirty diaper home with you.  Most companies sell wet bags that are zippered and waterproof and get washed with the diapers.  They do the job well.  But the truth is, you don't have to carry diapers around at the zoo.  You can use disposables for a day, a weekend, or a few hours when it makes sense to do so.  I don't want to worry about washing diapers on vacation, so I use disposables for that.

Disgusting Myth #5 - You can't wash diapers in the same place you wash your clothes.  Your washing machine is made to take dirt, spilled food, blood, throw-up--whatever goes into it--and wash it out.  It's made to wash and soak and rinse so all that grime exits the area.  To wash diapers you don't need a special washer.  You run one rinse cycle on cold to prevent staining.  If you don't think the diapers look rinsed enough, you can run it again.  Then you wash the longest cycle your washer has on warm or hot with regular laundry detergent with no fabric softener (it has a waterproofing effect--bad for diapers!) and then dry without a dryer sheet.

Here are some other helpful things I've learned about the process:

• Washing diapers is not the same as doing more laundry.  That was a huge fear for me because I really don't like doing laundry.  Regular laundry involves folding, sorting, hanging and sock matching.  Diapers just get washed and dryed.  If you get the ones I have, the "soaker" is made to come out and the diaper gets turned inside out in the wash cycle (getting it really clean), so you do have to turn them right side out after drying.
• I use 12 diapers and that seems to be enough for every other day washing.  I rarely go through all 12 diapers by washing time.
• No pins.  The all-in-ones have either snaps or Velcro.
• Detergent matters.  Some detergents can coat the diapers and make them less and less absorbent. Check out this detergent chart to see if your detergent will work.
• You do need to think about wipes.  With disposables the wipe goes in the diaper and gets thrown away.  You could continue to use disposable wipes and keep a waste basket for them.  I switched to reusable wipes (a cut up old towel, the thinner the better, works just as well as the wipes the diaper makers sell).  You have to wet the wipes with wipe solution.  I make my own and keep it in a spray bottle: water, baby soap and baby oil).  I throw the wipe in the diaper pail and they get washed with the diapers.
• You don't use a ton of water.  The diapers only make a small load.
• The all-in-one diapers are not cheap, about $22 each.  But you will save in the long run.

I am not hear to convince anyone that cloth diapering is what you should be doing.  But I do know a lot of women would be open to it if they knew how it all works instead of believing the myths.  Feel free to post your questions below.

Our Mother Earth is worth it!

Balancing Vata After Childbirth

All those years of yoga, and some elementary knowledge of Ayurveda, and I still had no idea what was in store for me, energetically, after baby.

In the days following the birth of my son, I felt like I was scrambling just to know which way was up.  Breastfeeding was more challenging than I ever imagined.  Sleep deprivation and hormone rushes reeked havoc on my mood.  And learning how to comfort and care for my new baby was a minute by minute exercise of trial and error.

Still, two weeks later, adjusting as well as one could, I just didn't feel right.  I resumed gentle yoga about a week after giving birth, just to center myself and find some quiet.  The practice was helpful as I began to reacquaint myself with my no-longer-pregnant body.  I needed to find a little peace in the tumult.  Yoga has always given me that.  But this time I just couldn't get that grounded feeling I needed.

In one of those groggy, upside down moments I got an email from one of my yoga teachers, Amba Greene, who is also an Ayurvedic Practitioner and Educator.  She was hosting a workshop on healthy eating.  I figured three hours of Ayurveda with like-minded people might be just what I needed to feel a little normal again.  I immediately arranged for my mom to watch the baby so my husband and I could attend the workshop.

Well, the universe gives you what you need, and right then, some balance was what I needed.

As we explored that qualities of the three doshas and what might indicate an imbalance in one area, I quickly realized that I was in the midst of a major Vata imbalance.  (If you're interested in learning more about the doshas, or elements, and Ayurveda, visit Be Nourished Ayurveda.)  One of the things that can trigger Vata imbalance is erratic eating or sleeping.  There is nothing like the nutritional needs of a newborn to throw you into an erratic sleeping and eating pattern!  Amba also informed me that the nervous system is strongly affected by childbirth itself, irritating Vata.

Wells and me, 9 days after his birth
Dry hair and skin is a sign of Vata imbalance

So I needed to get into Vata pacifying mode fast.  Amba's first piece of advice. . .oil massage.  She said my husband should massage me daily with oil--I wasn't going to argue with that!  I also took to massaging my skin with oil each day before showering.  It's a calming and also invigorating practice that anyone can benefit from.

Next, I switched to Vata pacifying foods.  I changed from cold, crunchy cereal with milk for breakfast to warm oatmeal or toast with butter.  I'd been snacking on apples and I switched those to peaches or clementines.  I indulged in lots of root vegetables with dinner.  I enjoyed soups and comfort foods.

Within days I felt much more myself, and much better able to cope with the many twists and turns of being a new mother.

Again, I do not claim to be an expert, but here are the key words I used to balance.  Avoid: cold, dry, rough, light, spicy, bitter.  Increase: warm, heavy, oily, sweet, sour, salty.  Basically any food or activity that embodies these qualities was either increased or avoided.  For example, I avoided taking walks in the cold, dry February morning air and walked when it was warm out instead.  After coming inside, I'd drink room temperature water or hot tea instead of chilled water, and I would eat a snack like warm, buttered banana bread.

If you are pregnant, I strongly recommend a session with an Ayurvedic practitioner so you can be prepared for the Vata imbalance and make the transition smoother.

A (Mother) Earth Day Crisis

So they’ve been on my mind for weeks.  Diapers.  And not just because I’m changing them more often than I check my email.

It’s the changing them and then putting them in the diaper pail where they form a conveniently packed cellophane tube that I then heave into the trash bin that’s got me thinking.  That’s a lot of waste.

I recycle paper, plastic, glass and aluminum, tote reusable grocery bags, go “paperless” billing, leave lights off more than on, keep my small kitchen appliances unplugged, only flush every few visits to the bathroom (it’s not gross if you’re home alone!), try to burn as little gasoline as possible, eat home grown veggies, abstain from overfished menu items, and welcome lizards as natural pest control.

Except for my diapers!

So why on God’s green earth am I throwing away a toddler-sized sack of diapers twice a week?

Before this baby was born I was one hundred percent sold on using cloth diapers.  And then the horror stories started to pour in.  Friends and family alike had me conjuring up mental images of puddles of leaking pee-pee, sweaty plastic pants, scraping number twos into the toilet, and toting baggies of stinky cotton everywhere I go.  So before I even got started, I threw in the, err, diaper.

I know it’s the right thing to do.  I’m just having a hard time getting excited about actually doing it.  My laundry piles have already grown substantially.  My baby doesn’t just dirty his own clothes, he dirties ours too!  Can I handle washing loads of diapers on top of all the new responsibilities I've taken on lately?

I know it would be greener.  I’m just not sure if I’m ready.

The Miracle

It’s almost a universal reaction.  You gaze at a newborn baby who is sleeping in sublime peace, and you’re overcome by the sheer miracle of life and birth.

In the week after my son was born, as various relatives and friends were stopping by to hold and meet the baby, I heard more than once, “How can you look at a newborn baby and not believe in God?”  The question wasn’t directed at anyone in particular.  It wasn't an admonition.  It was a statement of awe.  Look at this miracle of creation.

My mother-in-law held him and stroked his tiny ears, “Look how they’re so perfect.  How everything is so perfectly formed.”  They are perfect.  Just look at a newborn.  Mine had a misshapen and bruised head at birth.  Infant acne set in around week two.  Then his scalp started peeling and his hair fell out in odd patches.  And while these “flaws” might be decidedly off-putting in an adult, on a delicate newborn, they were barely noticed.  Instead, visitors commented on his beautiful eyes, his perfect mouth, his exquisitely tiny fingernails.

Yesterday, I texted a picture of my two month old to my dad.  “What a blessing,” he replied.  Indeed.  Then at the grocery store, the teenage girl who was bagging my groceries couldn't take her eyes off him, and finally cooed, “He is so precious.”  A passerby in the mall murmured, more to herself than me, “What a beautiful baby.”

As human beings we seem to intuitively sense God’s perfection in babies.

Pushing my cart out of the grocery store yesterday, I passed a very old man.  He must have been close to ninety years old.  He walked slowly, like it was no longer easy, and yet he walked.  His skin hung almost loose and in folds.  His hair was white and sparse.  Behind glasses, there was unmistakable light in his eyes.  I looked at him, smiled hello, and heard myself saying, “What a miracle.”

Why do we see beauty and perfection in children, but not in each other or in ourselves?  Each person you encounter was once that delicate, perfectly formed infant.  Have they become less worthy of love and adoration just because they’ve grown?

Two days ago, my daily calendar of Ma Jaya Sati Bhagavati’s teachings read, “You are the miracle that you seek.” What a reminder.  If only we could see in ourselves and each other, every day, the beauty we see in babies.

It's Not about You

Lying in bed at eight and a half months pregnant, I rubbed my swollen belly, poking gently to elicit the little nudges and kicks I had so come to love.  "I'm ready for you, Baby," I told him.  I was 38 weeks and, according to the books, now considered full term.  Pregnancy was losing some of its charm.  My feet were full of fluid, sleeping was a pillow-piling challenge, and even some of my maternity clothes were getting snug!  So I voiced my desire to my son-to-be. . .Come on out.  Mom and Dad are ready to meet you.

The nursery was ready.  Diapers stocked, onesies washed, cradle assembled.  In fact, I even placed the cradle next to my bed and smiled to myself each day, "I'm ready for you, Baby."  It was my mantra.

A week later my sweet entreaty had become tinged with frustration.  I'd begun to awaken each morning groaning, "I'm STILL pregnant?"  Didn't my boy hear me?  I'd read that sometimes babies weren't born until their parents expressed readiness.  I asked my husband to put his face to my belly.  "Tell him we're ready."

He kissed my tightly stretched skin and spoke, "Mommy and Daddy are ready for you," in the voice I'd later come to know as his "Wells Voice."  There.  Now he can be born.  I turned off the light, tried my best to use my pillow configuration to get comfortable, and drifted off with hopes of impending labor.

Another week, the eve of my due date.  I placed a waterproof crib pad under the sheet where I slept. "In case my water breaks."  I had spent the evening bouncing on an exercise ball and sending very clear instructions to my baby.  "Come on.  Be born!"

My due date came and precisely nothing unusual occurred.  That evening, lying in bed, I started feeling sorry for myself as I peered down at my undulating abdomen.  And then suddenly I realized that causing those amazing waves and bumps, was a very active and miraculous being who had his very own ideas about when to be born.  And there was the clear insight, "It's not about you." Truth has a vibration like a perfectly tuned chord, and at that moment I heard its sweetness.  That was it.  My first lesson as a parent: it's not about me.  Sure, I was ready for the discomforts of pregnancy to end, but my role as mother was not about my comfort.  It is and always will be about the health and wellness of my child.

The next day the obstetrician said "no signs of labor" and started talking about inducing.

"No way," I told him.  He looked pretty shocked.  Apparently, most women are ready to induce just as soon as the doc allows.

But I knew this baby would come when he was ready.  And I wasn't going to rush him.

Wells Long was born exactly one week after his due date, a healthy baby boy.