There are a few big issues in the parenting world that can really get people going: circumcision, vaccinations, breast vs. formula feeding, co-sleeping, and cloth diapers are the ones that come to mind right now. We didn’t have to worry about the first because we have a girl, and we don’t have much choice with the second because daycare requires it. What about the rest? We’ve been co-sleeping since Anya was born, due to supply issues in the beginning she’s a mixed breast/formula fed baby, and finally we have started using cloth diapers.

We wanted to do cloth diapers all along because it creates less waste and is cheaper. Navigating the cloth diaper world reminds me a lot of the first time I logged onto a MOO over ten years ago. Way too many choices, lots of foreign terminology, and tons of people with way too many opinions about how to do things. Seriously, there are at least half a dozen diaper types and probably hundreds of different diaper brands. There are newsgroups and journal communities and blogs devoted to the discussion of cloth diapers. I’m sort of reminded of the beanie baby craze when some of these people talk about getting the latest fuzzybunny AIO with that cute iguana pattern. I just wanted diapers.

I did some research and found what looked good to me. A one-size-fits-all diaper that looked and acted a lot like a disposable, had really great reviews, and came in a starter pack so I didn’t have to worry about what to buy. One problem…this starter pack cost over $400. So, I waited to see if maybe someone would buy them for us, and time ticked by. I really was not looking forward to plunking down that money, so when Andy found someone selling a set of diapers, covers, and inserts online for only $180 we jumped on it. These diapers are a different type than what I had wanted, but I did some quick research before we got them and the reviews were decent.

I knew that the one-size-fits-all would probably not fit baby when she first came home, and so we started things out using disposables. After about two or three weeks, I tried one of the cloth diapers on Anya and it was way too big. Monday I pulled them out again. They are still big on her, but they aren’t falling off. However, they are incredibly massive.

The diapers sort of swallow Anya. When she’s lying down, her knees have to bend for her feet to touch the ground. Her center of gravity has changed from her massive baby head to her huge diaper butt. I can’t get most of her clothes to fit over the diaper, and if I can she takes on the shape of a bowling pin. She’s a cartoon character. A sumo baby.

As she gets bigger, the diapers will (hopefully) fit better. In the meantime, we just sort of laugh at her and are glad that at this age she can’t tell the difference between “laughing with you” and “laughing at you.” (And we use disposables when we go out, so we can get her clothes on.)

Yesterday Anya turned a month old. Every month for the first year or so, I’m gonna try and take a photo of her in the same place to see how she grows. So, here’s the first one.

I’ve read lots of journals of parents where they post milestones their kids have hit during the last month or whatnot, so here’s Anya’s list of achievements for these first four weeks:

+ does a great imitation of Wallace when he’s just found some tasty cheese
+ speaks perfect squirrel
+ won a local farting competition
+ explored her inner toad
+ practiced camoflage techniques (as shown below)

I never imagined a tee-tiny, wee little baby could produce such foul smelling and giganto farts.

Baby says, “Who me? I don’t fart! I toot.”

And just because, here’s a picture of the baby after a bath. She likes to put the little towel hood on her head like a crown to pretend she is royalty.

I’ve been hearing voices in strange places lately. Last week, I distinctly heard Sydney (the ram) bellow out, “Baaaaaaaaaaaandrew!” I’m not sure what Andy did, but it must not have been good to have been called by his full name.

The other sheep haven’t been speaking…at least not in English. I’m guessing they speak in Icelandic, but I can’t really say. On Sunday, Andy and my dad moved the sheep to a big pasturey area (aka part of our front yard). Andy built cool sheepy shelters so the sheep can stay out of the elements. There’s only one in this field right now ’cause the sheep have trees to shelter under, too, but there will be more than one. Just so ya know.

Back to the voices, my boobie pump talks to me. I’ve been dealing with “supply issues,” and so I’ve been pumping to help keep things flowing. The pump says lots of things, and I have lots of time to listen to it. My favorite phrase is, “Donna Reed don’t you leave NRA.” Sometimes, the pump is conflicted and one moment says merely, “Run away!” and then “Don’t you leave.” (not necessarily to Donna Reed). It also seems to know where it came from as it frequently talks about Roanoke.

You can see the talkative pump in the upper right of this photo. This is my view from Baby Feeding Central. In addition to the pump, you can see my friend the clock (who does not speak). Also the trash can into which I toss things like kleenex (which I use plenty of now that I had to stop taking my allergy medicine) and Hardee’s bags.

I toss in this last picture because I think it’s silly. Yesterday (or the day before…or maybe it was last week…who knows) I took Aniela in the sling down to the garden to do some weeding. I also lugged down her bouncy chair and made a little roof with the sling to keep the sun off. Don’t worry. I covered up her feet.

My wedding ring has been lost for, I dunno, 4 years or more. It has been a very sad thing. I put it in my pocket one day, and then it was gone. I always assumed it rolled out in the couch or something, but we could never find it. We searched all the cushions and stuff, and came up empty. I had this theory that it was in the couch somewhere, and before we finally trashed it we would have to take it apart to be sure.

So today, Cabol’s mom was digging under the cushion of our brown chair for something, and said ‘Wow, no one must have vacuumed here, there is so much stuff! What a neat ring!’ Yes, that’s right, she came up with the missing ring. Someplace we’ve looked repeatedly over the years, and vacuumed periodically as well. I’m not sure where in the chair it was hiding that it managed the survive for years and not get sucked up, or fall out the bottom where the bunnies have pulled the chair apart, or roll out during the move…but there you go. I guess I’m married again.

As to be expected, it’s all about the sleeping around here.

Larry wants to know where his cute, fluffy, pink blanket is.

Cabol wanted me to post another picture, preferably one without her ginormous head in it.

Aniela Noël Volker arrived today around 9pm. She’s 7lb 11oz and, um, the size of a keeper bass.

If you get tossed in jail, it’s surely considered cruel and unusual punishment to be deprived of food. Go to the hospital for labor-related stuff, and it’s considered in your best interests to feed you nothing but ice pellets. What I want to know is, when morning rolls around and I haven’t had any food for over twelve hours, will they at least give … Ooo. A different nurse just came in and said I can have something to eat! Is she just taunting me like that loan guy with his 7.375%? We shall see. We shall see.

(In case you haven’t figured it out or heard already, we are at the hospital. The doctor decided it would be prudent to induce labor.)

Update: My doctor said I can’t eat! Aie. Nurse says she’ll try to get me food by morning. Oh happy day!

Update by Andy: They broke Cabol’s water and now the contractions are more often, so it could be any time now! But it probably won’t be.

Another update by Andy: Cabol decided she was sick of the pain, so she has had an epidural. Now she’s a lot happier.

More updated goodness: Cabol is at 10cm now (and super numb from the epidural, so that has been turned down), so I guess within the next hour or two we should be done.