I just committed myself to sticking with Fuzzi Bunz cloth diapers for the long haul with Simon. In sickness and in health. For richer for poorer. ‘Til potty training or fabric deconstruction do us part.
For the past five and a half months, we’ve used these pocket-style cloth diapers quite happily. Of course, it’s easy to love cloth diapering at this stage. Simon’s not on solid foods yet and he only drinks breastmilk. So I’m not being a deluded mom when I tell you his poop doesn’t stink. It (usually) really doesn’t.
Use and care are a snap, too. The diapers go on like disposables with snaps, and I store them in a big washable bag. Once a day, they get soaked in cold water and then washed in hot. The inserts dry on high heat in about 30 minutes, while the shells can line dry in about an hour. Once they are clean and dry, I stuff the inserts back into the diaper shells and am ready for another full day of diapering. I have to special order the right detergent to use, and I run up and down the stairs quite a bit, but it’s truly no big deal.
Unfortunately, these halcyon days are numbered. Sometime in the next week or so, Simon will start solids and our olfactory holiday will end. Cleaning will also get trickier, and I’m already feeling nostalgic.
Coincidentally, Simon has just outgrown his size small Fuzzi Bunz. This crept up on me. The leg holes still fit on the second tightest adjustment, and the waist still snaps on the tightest setting. I figured I had two months left. But I’ve noticed lately that he’s leaked up on his shirt a few times, and the culprit is a too short rise. Upon close inspection, I discovered that Simon is wearing his diapers the way hip-hop artists or wannabees wear their pants. I don’t personally like the look on anyone, but on Simon there are practical as well as aesthetic implications.
So it’s time to either ditch the cloth diapers or invest in new, larger ones. At $18 a pop, Fuzzi Bunz don’t come cheap. Throw in my prefered diaper insert at $2.50 each and a diaper sprayer for $35 (necessary for the next phase in poopy diapers), and you can drop a lot of cash in very little time–in about 15 minutes to be exact.
No doubt 1 to 2 1/2 years of disposables would cost more. These suckers are good for up to 30 pounds, so I will save money in the long run. But you buy disposables on the instalment plan and can switch brands at any time, whereas I just paid for these all up front–a hefty financial outlay.
So that seals the deal. Having broken the bank, I can’t go back. I have sealed my poopy fate and can only hope that a lifetime of gross-out desensitization at the hands of my older brothers (you wouldn’t believe how many poop and fart jokes they know) will prepare me for the horror that awaits.