It’s time once again for Cloth Tushie Tuesday! This week, we’re talking about our favorite diapers, print, brand or fit your choice!

So this post is late and terribly rushed and not nearly as detailed as I had planned it to be, but I am under a serious gun right now and working like a maniac so I’m kind of feeling proud of myself that I got it up here at all!

Having successfully navigated the first 14 months of my son’s life, I realized that recently things have changed. The differences are fairly subtle in some cases, although dramatic in others. After all, both babies and toddlers like to be held, they take naps, ride in car seats and while they may place the food in their mouths, you still have to give it to them.

So after much thought on what has recently changed, I present this tutorial on the difference between toddlers and babies.

When you need to take a shower when your child is a baby, you can deposit them in a bouncy seat or other device that holds them with straps. Chances are, they’ll sleep through it, but even if not, they’re most likely entertained by staring at your silhouette through the curtain. If they cry, they’re still contained and you can get to them in a minute.

When you need to take a shower when your child is a toddler, you try to distract them with some toys before you hop in. Seconds later, those same toys will land in the water at your feet, followed by your toddler’s face peeking at you from around the curtain, demanding them back. If your shower goes on for too long, the toddler may start to play in the toilet, empty the laundry hamper or throw a tantrum that they can’t join you in the tub.

When you need to get from point A to point B with a baby, you simply scoop them up and take them there.

When you need to get from point A to point B with a toddler, they will insist on being carried the first 4 steps. Then, they’ll want to walk. When something shiny distracts them, they’ll head off in another direction. When you corral them, they’ll cry, when you pick them up, they’ll cry harder. When you put them down again, they will either completely melt down, or run off to parts unknown. If you’re lucky, you’ll find them at point B.

When a baby is hungry, he or she will eagerly eat whatever you present, whether it’s a boob, a bottle or a spoonful of mush. The worst that can happen is some spit up, or some mush in the hair. You can plan for these contingencies.

When a toddler is hungry, he or she will suspiciously inspect the food. If the food passes muster, it will be nibbled on before being thrown on the floor. If the food does not pass muster, it goes straight to the floor.

When a baby cries, the reason is usually found quickly. Wet, hungry, gassy or just wants to be held are the usual suspects.

When a toddler cries, the answer is an enigma wrapped inside a mystery. Did you want your cup? Your truck? To be picked up? Most of these questions will be met with a furious pushing of hands and some angry toddler babble, because how could you be so obtuse as to mention any of those things, when really, the toddler wants a Smurf.

Babies can be left in a room that is more or less baby-proofed for a few minutes. When you come back, they may have moved around but everything else is as you left it.

Toddlers can be left alone in a room that is more or less baby-proofed for a few minutes. When you come back, it will be to find that they spotted the one thing that was not baby-proofed and turned it into 7,000 pieces, despite the fact that it was only meant to stay in one.

When you cuddle and love on a baby, you do so with little reciprocation.

When you cuddle and love on a toddler, they wrap arms around your neck, give you sloppy, open mouthed kisses and respond to, “I love yous” by placing their heads on your shoulder.

Toddlers are great.

And if you have a toddler and are looking for some inexpensive activities to do, head over to Our Mommyhood today, where I have a post up on just that!

The last few weeks have picked me up, wrung me out like a sponge and dropped me again. I’m so tired. Tired of being tired, tired of having panic attack induced chest pains, and tired of scrambling.

However, not everything has been unrelenting misery around here.

The Good
We found a new hiking trail in the area, perfect for taking Gunne Bear and working off some stress. If I can just avoid the Wild Turkeys, everything is great.

The deck is finished, and I painted some more furniture. Getting ready to paint my office next. I love adding all this extra color to the house; it makes me happy.

I may have a chance to exercise a neighbors horses for her. Riding twice a week for free??? Um, yes please! I road for more than 20 years before stopping, and miss it every day. The chance to do so again makes me giddy.

The Bad
The panic attacks. The chest pains. The insomnia. I need this to end.

The black cat butt in my face as I attempt to type this. Why must cats show you their butts? I don’t understand.

Relationship problems.

A health related issue to someone in the family that is keeping me up at night with worry.

Toddler tantrums.

The Mediocre
In an attempt to socialize my child, I’ve signed him up for some classes starting next week. I’m sort of torn on this issue. They’re expensive, and time consuming and require us to be dressed and out the door early in the morning. But on the other hand, they may address some issues we’ve been having and will hopefully pay off in the end. I see this as neither good nor bad, but merely mediocre.

The work that is being turned in to me to edit. I would kill for one, really good piece to work with. Or even something so bad it’s a flat out rejection. Trying to turn someone else’s mediocrity into something good makes me want to pull my hair out.

So to recap, I’m panicked, bald and tired with a cat butt in my face. Excellent.

After a brief break, I’m back to participating in Working Mommy Wednesday!

My birth story is fairly anticlimatic actually. I had a partial placental abruption at 33 weeks, and was told I would more than likely not make it to term. Time kept passing though, and at each weekly ultrasound I would just squeak by, earning Gunne Bear another week’s stay. So imagine my shock when I actually got to nearly 41 weeks.

At that ultrasound, they actually discovered that my amniotic fluid, which had dropped in half at 33 weeks, had gone back to normal! Shocking at the time, I now see it as foreshadowing. That night, a few minutes after we’d gone to bed, and I’d gotten comfortable, I felt and heard what I can only describe as an elastic band snapping. I was instantly soaked. No really; SOAKED. Below is an actual transcript of the next few minutes:

Betsy: Oh my God!
The Viking: What?
Betsy: Oh my GOD!
The Viking: What is it?
Betsy: OH MY GOD!
The Viking: What? Did your water break?
Betsy: OH MY GOD!

I was in a little bit of shock, I think. So we head to the hospital, which was about 5 minutes away and check in. 3cm dilated, 100% effaced; I’m admitted. They give me a shot to take the edge off the contractions which were about every 4 minutes at this point. The shot wound up slowing them down to every 20 minutes.

So I’d have a contraction and pace around the room while it was going on. Then I’d sit on the bed, collapse sideways and sleep for 20 minutes. The Viking slept across the room. This went on for a few hours with no progress getting made. The doctor wanted to start Pitocin, but offered to give me an epidural first. I said fine, got the epidural and went to sleep for a few hours. Then the fun part happened.

The Viking woke up and asked a nurse how much longer it would be. She said hours. He says, “I think I’ll run home for a shower and something to eat then, since we only live a few minutes away.” He wakes me up to tell me, and I say sure.

He leaves, and a few minutes later the nurse comes in. I can’t feel anything. No really, nothing; my legs were like two big meaty noodles and I felt nothing. She decides to check me and discovers that the baby is practically laying on the bed.

We frantically call The Viking, who is just getting out of the shower. He says he’ll be right there, and looks around for something to eat. He knows we have hot dogs in the house, because that was all I was eating toward the end. What he did not know, is that in my effort to be healthier, I bought some tofu dogs as well. So he grabs one of those and wraps it in a low-carb pita. Driving back to the hospital, he eats it thinking that this is the worst tasting hot dog he’s ever had.

So, he gets back and we spend a few minutes lifting my useless, lump of meaty noodle legs out of the way. I push a couple of times and we have a baby! They put him on my shoulder, and I swear he picked his head up and looked around for a second before lowering it again. Dude was born with enviable head control.

I was in labor for a total of 12 hours, slept through about 10 of those and pushed for about 30 seconds. The whole thing is still surreal to me; I swear it didn’t feel real at the time and still doesn’t, despite the memories. I like to think that my easy labor was my reward for having such a hellish pregnancy.

So that’s my birth story. I’m now off to try to make sense out of the awful crap being shoveled at me by my writer.

I am over my head busy this week, so posting may be light. Plus? I’m convinced that toddlers are placed on this Earth to teach us to be very, very patient people.

That said, it is time for Cloth Tushie Tuesday! This week’s prompt: What’s your laundry routine?

Once upon a time, there was a boy named Gunne Bear.

And he loved a cat.

Unfortunately for Gunne Bear, the cat did not love him back.

The boy tried everything he could think of to make the cat love him. He brought her some water.

But that didn’t go over too well.

He brought her one of his favorite wooden blocks.

But the cat only felt threatened.

Gunne Bear was sad because he thought the cat didn’t love him.

But then one day while Gunne Bear was eating his dinner, he began to throw his chicken nuggets into the air.

And to his surprise, the cat came over to eat them.

Gunne Bear knew what he had to do to make the cat love him now.

And they lived happily ever after. The end.

In keeping with the rest of my quirky/funky lifestyle, I have noticed a few quirky/funky/random things about my parenting style and about my kid in general.

The only thing, and I mean the only thing that calms him down when he’s whiny and upset, is for me to sing him, “Cry if You want To”. I find it highly amusing that the only thing that stops him from crying is for me to sing him a song about “…go(ing) down with the ship…”

Just prior to Gunne Bear’s nap today, I was in his room playing with him. Until I realized that I was playing with his toy train by myself and that he was across the room lugging around my laundry basket. I would estimate that I played with that train all by myself for a good ten minutes.

We don’t have a lot of toys or TV in our house. These were more financial than philisophical decisions for us, and it means that Gunne Bear and I have to get mighty creative to pass the time. Some things he does are bang on pots and pans with his own wooden spoon, remove everything from our lower cabinets and put them back, cart around a laundry basket, carry around random socks and articles of clothing, open and shut doors and drawers, take rides on our wheeled ottoman. His very favorite toy at the moment is a bottle of (unopened) salad dressing. His choice.

I wear skirts and dresses about 90% of the time. It must be freezing cold or I’m going hiking for me to put on pants most of the time. Gunne Bear learned how to walk by holding on to the hem of my skirt and trailing after me. He’s now very, um, obsessed with looking up my skirt. Other than crossing my legs, I’m not sure what to do about this one.

I recently convinced him that Cordie lives inside a cardboard box (it’s the Cordie Cave). He now checks the box for her regularly and gets upset when the “Blah! Key!” is not in the box. He has also been known to try to get her into the box against her will. I find all of this highly amusing.

My kid is waaaay more entertained by my enthusiastically singing along with old Sesame Street songs we find on YouTube than he is by the actual videos. Seriously, he watches my face instead of the screen.

So tell me; what random things do you do with your kids?

I’d just like to say thank you for the comments and emails I received after yesterdays post. It was hard to write, but I needed to get it out there. Things are looking a little better in that I’m trying to be optimistic and we are treating each other a little more carefully right now. I’m not very hopeful that we can finally put things behind us, but I’m getting there with a lot of support. So thank you again. =)

And now on with our regularly scheduled programming:

I know many of you have or have had toddlers. So you know how toddlers eat. Gunne Bear’s are a particular kind of toddler, firmly attached to their Mama’s and preferring to live on tasty, nutritious air, some fruit and milk. This is a tutorial on how to feed a Gunne Bear.

Carry the Gunne Bear to the table. Gunne Bears enjoy being carried and will insist upon being lifted to the table. Walking on their own is not tolerated.

Attempt to lower the Gunne Bear into his high chair. The Gunne Bear will retaliate against this lowering by transforming himself into a cat being lowered into a pool of water.

Put some ointment on your scratches and carry the Gunne Bear to the other side of the table, far from the offending high chair. Allow the Gunne Bear to sit in your lap.

Watch as the Gunne Bear breaks into a celebratory tossing of food. Not into his mouth, but everywhere else.

Get annoyed at the waste of food, and begin to put the food in the Gunne Bear’s mouth for him. He enjoys this; he feels it is your duty to serve him.

Continue to feed the Gunne Bear for several minutes. Notice as you attempt to put more food in the Gunne Bear’s mouth that it feels oddly distended. Ask the Gunne Bear to show you the contents of his mouth.

Discover 586 raisins crammed into his cheeks. Puzzle for a few moments over the fact that you hadn’t been feeding him raisins. Ask him to spit them out and when he refuses, reach up and begin to extract them for him.

The Gunne Bear will not like this.

Apply ointment to the many bite marks on your hand and inform the Gunne Bear that he has gotten his wish; he can have some tasty nutritious air instead of food.

The Gunne Bear will be so happy he’ll reward you by clinging to your legs and getting angry when you attempt to clean up the spilled food. Go ahead and leave it there until he goes to bed that night; if you’re lucky, the cats will eat it for you.

Once upon a time, there was a quirky girl who lived by herself in the big city. She was fiercely independent, had her own unique style and way of doing things, and thought she’d never find love. This didn’t bother the girl; she was so independent and quirky that she knew that it would take a very rare man to appreciate her. So she lived her life in the city with her friends and her cats and she was content.

One day, the girl went to a philosophy salon. She was greeted when she went in by a red haired man who made no impression on her at all. It was not love at first sight, but it was love at first speak when he came to talk to her after the salon ended. This man appreciated her quirky ways.

It became clear to the girl as they dated that the boy had a Secret. She was so independent, though, that she couldn’t bring herself to ask him about the Secret. It was there, but it didn’t seem to get in the way; they lived there lives as if it wasn’t.

Time passed and the girl and the boy decided to move in together. Things were fine for the first few weeks, until suddenly the boy’s Secret was revealed. The girl was shocked, and horrified and disgusted and very, very confused. She loved the boy; he was her best friend, but he had this Secret that threatened her. She confronted him about it and he confessed. He swore he was making changes, that the Secret would soon cease to exist. The girl believed him because she loved him and waited for the changes to occur.

Time passed and no changes happened. The girl got upset and pressed the boy, he agreed and made one change. Two weeks later, the girl got pregnant and things changed some more, but the Secret was still there. Now, the girl had to become part of the Secret because of the coming baby.

Time passed and the girl got sick. The night she almost lost the baby and died, the boy was no where to be found; the Secret had him. The girl was alone when she heard the news from the doctors. She was alone a lot because of the Secret.

The baby was born alright and the girl made the boy swear that the Secret would not interfere in their lives anymore. He promised; but he broke that promise. He broke others, too, and the Secret stayed.

Months passed, and when the baby was 6 months old, the girl had enough. She told the boy she was leaving him because of the Secret. She couldn’t take it anymore; it gave her panic attacks and chest pains, it made her incapable of caring for her baby because she was crying and in pain. She wanted to leave.

The boy told the girl that he didn’t want her to go. He would do whatever she asked; he swore he would end the Secret… in two months. The girl said this wasn’t good enough, but stayed anyway; she loved the boy.

Things changed and time passed, and while the Secret was mostly gone it was still somewhat alive. The girl agreed to move with the boy to another state, far away from the Secret. She thought that this would change things, that the Secret would die once and for all.

The Secret didn’t die. It kept coming back, and when it did the girl’s heart broke. Her trust in the boy broke; she thought that the Secret was more important to the boy than she was. She loved the boy, but couldn’t live like this. She gave the boy an ultimatum; do it again and lose me forever.

A month passed, the boy did it again and the girl swore this was it. She asked the boy to leave; she would pack and be gone by the end of the month. The boy agreed, but asked her to talk. She said alright; come to dinner then and we’ll talk.

The boy and the girl talked for hours. Nothing changed. The next night, they talked again. They love each other, the girl has never known anyone who accepted her as she is. Only the boy accepted her, quirks and independent streak and all. She didn’t want to lose him; she only wanted to lose his Secret.

The boy didn’t want to lose her either; he swore again that the Secret would not come between them. He took steps to ensure it. The girl isn’t sure; she thinks he’ll pull the Secret out again. He swears he won’t. The girl doesn’t know if she is stupid to stay, if staying robs her of her dignity. Leaving robs her of her best friend. She agreed to stay, for now. She agreed that if the boy really could ensure it, she would stay. She doesn’t really believe it though. It’s her optimism and belief in the future that she hangs onto.