The ultimate parental failing... yes, I've done it

Everyone thinks they're going to be a good parent. Well, at least I believe everyone starts out wanting to parent well. You read your books, you gather intel, you form a plan. Even if it's not your first time around, it feels like it is, except this time you have experience of your own and you know that there are things you want to do better. To do more. To do as closely to perfect as is humanly possible.

Well, people, I'm here to tell you: I failed.

I failed big time.

I had such good intentions, but in the end those intentions fell prey to my discouragement and it is with great shame, mingled with relief, yes, but mostly shame that I write this blog post.

What have I done?

Before I tell you, understand that I haven't even told James yet. In fact, if someone will message him around 10:30 tonight, after I'm in bed, and tell him to read this, that would sincerely be doing me a solid.

Then he can process it overnight and maybe see his way around forgiving me in the morning.

The fact is that it's too late to go back and undo it. That's why I didn't tell anyone. I didn't want to be talked out of it. I'm sort of stubborn that way.

So what did I do?

::gulp::

I sold our cloth diapers.

I'M SORRY FRIENDS, FAMILY, ENVIRONMENTALLY-CONSCIOUS COMMUNITY, AUSTIN, TEXAS, UNITED STATES, AND THE WORLD BOTH PRESENT AND FUTURE.

Truly, truly, I am sorry. But I couldn't do it any more.

We had 17 diapers, so that was about enough to get us through 36 hours. Those of you with large families can scoff, but mandatory laundry every day and a half was wearing me out with this high-needs baby and at least one high-needs cat after whom I have to clean up every two hours or so.

You go through cloth diapers faster than disposable, and so when Mal would pee while I was changing his diaper, that meant two gone. Then he'd poop 8 seconds later, so that'd be four. Then when I changed that one, he'd pee again, and there are almost a third of the diapers used in under a quarter hour.

The smell... ehh, I could handle that. It's just pee-ier than with disposable. But Mal's backside was red and angry about every three days by the end of the day. Whether it was a growth spurt so he'd nursed a lot and had runny stools or was on meds or whatever... We use all the right stuff for preventing diaper rash, but often I'd put him in disposables just to give his derriere a break.

Now we're moving, and buying a regular washing machine that will use dozens of gallons of water per load.

And I couldn't. I just couldn't.

You can't make me change my mind, because I already shipped them! Actually, I rode my bike down to the post office, and I'm hoping that riding my bike everywhere so that I can never recall exactly when I last bought gas counts as sort of carbon offsets for pitching toxic waste into landfills.

But who am I kidding?

I know it doesn't.

I only hope that one day, I'll be able to look at my mommy self in the mirror again. And, no, this isn't a happy dance I'm doing. It's the dance of shame. I'm so so sorry.