sweet homemade wipes

Before I get started, I just want to ask you guys to pray for Jonah. He's having a tough time eating, and Patrice is starting to have to seriously consider a gtube. Not only is he not drinking formula well, but he's also not ever really gotten the hang of eating solid food. I can't even imagine how scared Patrice must be right now, so please pray with me that Jonah will miraculously start downing his milk like never before. I know many of you don't know Matt, Patrice, and Jonah personally, but thank you so much for praying for and caring about a family that Shawn and I love so much.

Throughout the course of my pregnancy, I set about trying to eliminate as many of the recurring costs of babyhood as possible. I knew we'd be trying to do this whole thing on a minister's salary, and I knew my eventual dream would be to be a stay at home Mom, so the frugalista in me went into overdrive. In my experience, two of the biggest recurring expenses are 1) diapers and 2) wipes. I knew we'd cloth diaper, but Shawn and I both had a gut reaction of "ew. gross." to the thought of using cloth wipes.

Now that I've cloth diapered for almost a year, the idea of cloth wipes doesn't gross me out any longer (I actually think it'd be pretty easy). However, it still grosses out Shawn - so out of respect for him, I make my wipes out of paper towels.

This serves three purposes that I love 1) It's significantly cheaper than buying wipes, 2) We don't have to go to the store when we're running low on wipes. We buy our paper towels in 12 packs, so we typically have plenty available when I need to make more wipes, and 3) I know exactly what is in the wipe solution

So how on earth do I turn a very regular roll of paper towel into wipes suitable for the most adorable Judeabutt in the world? Well first, I gather my supplies. 1. Roll of paper towel (we like select-a-size. you just need a small one for the pees but can use a couple for the rest) 2. Baby Oil 3. Baby Shampoo 4. 1 Tbsp. measuring spoon 5. Measuring Cup 6. Sharp Knife 7. Cutting Board 8. Butter Knife 9. An empty plastic wipes container


Cut the paper towel roll in half - width wise.
Beautiful. I take the extra one and set it aside for the next round of wipes I'll need to make.

I use the butter knife to help separate the adhesive that's between the paper towel and the cardboard middle. Then I pull out the cardboard middle.

Voila! I tend to give the cardboard piece to my son to play with 'cause I'm just that fun. Keep an eye on your kiddo if you do the same - the cardboard will most likely go in his mouth where it'll become soggy and the perfect consistency for getting stuck in his throat. Just take it away when it starts getting mushy.

This is what the paper towel roll will look like in the wipes container - now all that's left is making the solution!

I then put about 1 and 1/3 cups of water in the measuring cup (riveting pictures, huh?)

And then add 1 Tablespoon of baby oil:

And then 1 Tablespoon of baby shampoo (seriously, I'm totally going to win a photojournalism award for this stuff):

Then I shake it all about...

After it's thoroughly mixed (or unthoroughly - there's really no wrong way to do this), I pour the solution onto the wipes. A couple of tips for this part -

1. Keep the paper towel roll in your wipes container so that the excess solution falls into the container.

2. Start from the inside. I found when I poured from the outside that the inside didn't get nearly wet enough.

Then I just pour the rest of the solution on the paper towel roll - rotating the roll as I go:

Pull away the first "wipe" (because they can stick together pretty easily and it's a pain to try and find the first wipe when you have a very impatient naked kiddo on the table), close the lid, and you're all set!
Homemade wipes that don't require you having to launder them!

boo for the flu

Good News: I've lost five pounds in two days.

Bad News: It's because I feel like someone's taking a Roto Rooter to my gut and having a field day.

Good News: Shawn was able to work from home today so that I'm not puking up my guts AND trying to take care of Jude.

Bad News: Poor guy (both guys, actually) will most likely get this, too. We're trying to be super careful and me and Lysol are bffs right now, but you just can't be this close to a sicky and not get it, too.

Good News: Tamiflu is amazing. I've never had the stuff before, and I'm already feeling so much better after only having been taking it it for less than 24 hours.

Bad News: The stuff cost us $50. Plus a $25 copay for the doctor's visit. If Jude and Shawn get this, we'll be out $225 for sickness. Getting sick is just not in our budget - but whatcha gonna do?

Ironically - I refused to get a flu shot last week because we didn't have the $25 in our budget, even though Shawn kept telling me I needed it. I don't know if you've noticed, but $25 is less than $75.

Shawn: 5
Jen: 0

video time!

Blogger has finally let me upload a few of the videos I've taken of Jude. Don't you worry your little head, though - I have plenty more where these came from.

This is the worm crawl he was doing a couple of months ago. He's since figured out how to crawl like a proper baby, but I'm so glad I captured it on camera!

google settles all our arguments

How sad is that? Allow me to illustrate.

We had an ongoing debate as to how the brand of "I can't believe it's not butter" is referred in England. Why would we debate something so ridiculous, you ask? In our weird, convoluted way I think we're flirting. Or maybe we're just bored. I haven't decided yet.

My vote was that the English version was called, "Butter - or is it?" Twenty minutes of google searching later, we found this:




Shawn: 1
Jen: 0

Now, there's something that you need to know about my husband. He sees the world in cartoon characters. I would say with 70% of the people we meet, he will later tell me, "That person looks like such and such cartoon character," and it's usually a Muppet. Early in our relationship, when I showed up to class wearing a turtleneck sweater and my black rimmed glassed, he told me I looked like a Sexy Velma.

I'm still unsure if that was a compliment or not.

Several months ago, Shawn called Jude "Dopey." You would think that after knowing Shawn for almost eight years now, I would know that his cartoon character to actual person analogies are pretty accurate, but I still disputed the fact that our son looks like Dopey. We googled a picture of Dopey, and well...you be the judge:

Shawn: 2

Jen: 0

One night, Shawn and I started debating whether Frisch's Big Boy is referred to primarily as Frisch's or Big Boy. This may or may not have been spurred on by the fact that my hair was doing a weird flip that Shawn said looked like Big Boy's hair.

I told Shawn he was crazy, and that Big Boy is the name of the mascot, Frisch's is the name of the restaurant. Shawn asserts that the biggest sign in front of the restaurant says "Big Boy," on it - so it is therefore referred to as Big Boy. I assert that's ridiculous. You don't just refer to McDonald's as The Golden Arches because that's their sign. Nobody says, "Let's go to The Golden Arches," without everyone else replying, "Dude, it's called McDonald's."

A few google searches later, we found out that apparently referring to the restaurant as "Frisch's" is a peculiarity specific to the Cincinnati area. Kind of like beating the Steelers a few weeks ago, but whatever. We won't go there.

Shawn: 3

Jen: 0

Just this morning, as I was putting food on Jude's highchair tray for him to eat, I told him that he was getting a smorgasborg of food. Except that I was in random-baby-talk mode, which means I said something like, "Judeabag, look at you! You're getting a smorgasborg of food! That's right, kiddo - Smorg. Ess. Borg."

Shawn looked at me like I was all cute and amusing, and said, "What'd you call it?" I answered, "A smorgesborg. Why?"

Honey," he said (very patronizingly, I might add), "It's smorgasbord...with a D." We argued for a minute, with me making the point that I happen to be the reader of the family and am really the familial authority on how things are pronounced.

And then Shawn brought up the fact that until I was in late high school, I thought hors devours was pronounced, "oars day vores." In my house, we just called 'em snacks, so I had only read the word, and never heard it pronounced.

Since there's really no way to reply to that fact with dignity, I just said, "We'll see." I can't lie. Hitting up google to settle this debate was one of the first things I did. Let's just say

Shawn: 4

Jen: 0

Oh google. At once both a good and reliable friend and my provingshawnwrong nemesis.

what to do with a coletrane

I feel badly for our dog, I really do. Eleven months ago, he was pretty much king of this place. He was allowed up on the bed with us and his needs were met and discussed with thorough interest. Shawn and I both spent intentional time rolling around the floor and playing with him, and I tried to take him on a run or walk a couple of times a week (before bedrest, anyway). Now, the poor guy is lucky if Shawn or I remember to feed him by 5:00pm and if we give him fifteen minutes of dog petting goodness after Jude goes down for the night.

Cole's a good dog. He's very loving, he's protective, and has not ever...not once...growled at or threatened Jude. Not even when Jude crawls underneath him (while he's eating) to get to his food. Not even when Jude uses Cole's head as a stepping stone to the coffee table. Not even when Jude decides to take Cole's kong (Cole's one and only toy in a menagerie of plastic squeeky things). Cole just looks at Jude like, "what the heck, dude?" and calmly walks away.

So I know we have a great dog - I do. But we also have a dog who barks at the neighbors ALL THE TIME. We have a dog who - at least twice a week - poops or pees in our house. On our freshly cleaned, baby crawled on carpet. We have a dog who decides that 3am right next to our bed is the best time and place to obnoxiously clean every last flippin' part of his body. We have a dog who loves to sit outside Jude's door while we're trying to rock him down for a nap, and has the uncanny timing to stand up and thwap his huge ears, jangle his collar, and make a frustrating amount of noise right as we're laying Jude in the crib.

And did I mention that Cole's decided our living room is a perfect place for his bathroom needs? Because that's the one that's really getting to me lately. Our home isn't perfectly clean, but we do our best to keep it tidy and at the very least - sanitary. In looking around my living room right now, I think that if you dropped by, you'd be impressed at its cleanliness for having an 11 month old and a sewing business. Sure, everything heavy or breakable is on top of our highest furniture - making it look strange - but clean, nonetheless.

And I don't have a lot of spare time. I've become an expert in efficiency, and I have very specific tasks planned for the amount of attention Jude requires during the day. I have things that I can do with one hand planned for the times he needs me to hold him, I have things that I can do with him crawling at my feet planned for the times he needs me nearby but not necessarily playing with him, I have things planned that need intense concentration for when he's napping or content to play alone, and I have things planned that can be done in spurts (like writing a blog or shooting out emails) planned for when he's in his highchair and needs intermittent attention (like giving him bits of food).

See? It's crazy, but yes...I even plan out when I can go pee.

And cleaning up dog poop? NOT. IN. THE. PLAN.

And while I'm grumbling about wasting my time and all the things I need to be doing with that time, I know in the back of my mind that it's partly our fault. Our once beloved dog is now on the bottom of the priority list.

And part of that, I know, is healthy. Jude will always come before Cole. Always. If we need to spend money on Jude's college fund or Cole getting some kind of $5,000 surgery - Jude's going to win. If both Cole and Jude are in a life threatening situation - Jude's getting saved. Cole's a dog. Jude's a human. Jude wins.

But I also know that as responsible dog owners and lovers, we need to take better care of Coletrane...or give him to someone who will. And so this is the crux at which we stand.

I don't want to give him away (and I know Shawn doesn't either). Jude's finally getting old enough to have a sort of sibling-like relationship with Cole. Jude laughs so hard when Cole does silly things, and Cole and I have a similar understanding of being driven nuts by Jude sometimes. Cole keeps me safe when Shawn's gone on trips, and that daggone dog loves the heck out of us. He handled taking the brunt of my postpartum depression with grace and an unconditional love surpassed only by my Savior.

But we can't keep him cooped up in our tiny house and expect him to behave, and I can't keep cleaning our carpets like a madwoman twice a week. This isn't working, and something has to change.

So I'm asking you - blog friends - for advice. I've been looking into invisible dog fences and would love any thoughts or reviews you have on those (especially on how not to spend a lot of money). How do we take care of our sweet puppy in this different phase of our life? What do we need to do differently, and how can we fit in taking care of his needs with the current demands of our all too busy life?

steelers diaper love

Oh man, the things Jude and I do because we love Shawn. Like sew a Steelers patch onto a black diaper with dark yellow snaps. And then wear it on our cutte little bum (that would be Jude's role in this whole thing - not mine).

And in case you're wondering, I'm sorry, but I can't make you a diaper with your favorite team's patch sewn on the hiney. There are way too many licencing issues that it makes my head spin. But I WOULD be willing to be hired by the Steelers Coorporation to make official Steelers cloth diapers. Or any other team, for that matter. After all, the Steelers are Shawn's loyalty - not mine.

...Just sayin'

I think Coletrane's jealous. I guess his yellow collar against his black fur isn't "Steeler-y" enough for him. Okay, Coletrane, I'll make you a Steelers diaper. Or maybe a Steelers dog bed would be more appropriate?

jude goes to college

From Friday through Sunday this past weekend, we took some of our high school students on a college tour of (relatively) nearby Christian colleges. We began with Kentucky Christian University in Grayson, KY, traveled on to Cincinnati Christian University in Cincinnati, OH, and then drove to Johnson Bible College in Knoxville, TN.

Because my version of our weekend would be boring and filled with thoughts about tuition prices, FAFSA information, and ratio of teachers and students, I thought I'd let Jude tell you himself about his weekend. Keep in mind that this was the first student ministry trip on which we've taken Jude that didn't involve him being fed from the umbilical cord and falling asleep when I started walking. Believe it or not, they're a lot more work outside the womb. So without further ado, allow me to present to you...Judeabug...

So this past weekend, we did a whole lot of driving. Mommy kept saying that she was so worried that I was going to be fussy and cry a whole lot. I think it's really funny to prove her wrong, though. We drove from home to Kentucky. I had a lot of fun on that part of the trip! My good friend Katie got me to take a whole entire two naps in my carseat by putting her hand next to my face - one of my favorite things EVAH!

We got to KCU, and after we went to chapel (which I slept through most of), Mommy and Daddy took us to Pizza Hut. Mommy started to tell me that was where Daddy worked to earn money for their honeymoon, but that was when I put my fingers in my ears and shouted, "La La La La La!" Gross, Mommy. Gross. But I took my fingers out of my ears to get some pizza crust, which is delicious, by the way.


And then Mommy and Daddy showed me the bench where they sat and talked a lot. Whatever. They talk all the time - what's so special 'bout sitting on a bench and talking?

We took a walk around campus. Oh great. Does this mean I'm engaged to Mommy? Or DADDY?! Oh man - can you handle how funny I am?

And hey - check out my pretty sweet carseat cover. I can't read yet, but I'm pretty sure those words say, "Most Amazing Baby Ever."

The people at KCU apparently didn't want an 11 month old staying in the dorms (and I had big plans for those college kids...big plans), so Mommy and I stayed in a hotel room that night. Mommy was super excited and thought she'd get a lot of sleep. But seriously - I was at a college! Hello!? Party! I kept her up pretty much all night...that woman just does not know how to party.

We got up super early (or stayed up super late...depending on how you look at it) to drive from Kentucky to Cincinnati. We heard someone talk, but I really enjoyed crawling on the chairs in the back of the room. Seriously, if I had to pick a college based on its chairs, CCU would definitely win.

CCU was so nice and fed us a lunch of something called Skyline Chili. Mommy was way too excited about this stuff, it was weirding me out a little bit.

They made me try it. My thoughts?

"Eh."

And THEN we got to go to a mall, and I got to see my Grammy and Grampy! I was so excited that they met us to hang out!

Grammy won me a Chick Fil A cow that I played with on the trip back. Grammys and Grampys are the best.

After that, we went to a church in Cincinnati. On our way there, Mommy gave me some puffs. I haven't had these kind before, but they are YUMMY! As you can see, I was very interested in "reading" the ingredients.

After church, we hit the road for Knoxville. We stopped to eat dinner, and after that, Mommy and Daddy put me in my pajamas and let me crawl around a little while we were waiting on the students to finish dinner. (Mommy note - the van was parked and completely off.)

Then Mommy put me in my carseat, read me a book, prayed for me, and tried to get me to fall asleep. I think she was trying to trick me into thinking it was bedtime. Seriously, though. I'm an entire 11 months old. I know the difference between a 15 passenger van with high school kids in it and my crib and dark room. You're not dealing with a 5 month old here. I didn't really sleep much, and was so excited when we got to Johnson! Mommy, Daddy, and I had our own dorm room (far away from the other kids and college students), and I was so excited to be awake at midnight! That hasn't happened in months!

I learned that college dorms have lots of drawers, and I just so happen to LOVE drawers! If that's what college is all about - sign me UP!

Once again, I was so excited about college (and those drawers...oh those drawers!) that I couldn't sleep! I let Mommy and Daddy have four or five hours, and I even talked (...err...cried) them into taking them into the bed with them. I've been working on that sweetness for months, and they finally caved.

I was excited to wake up the next morning and see the campus, though. I was going for the "college kid during finals week" look.

Mommy let me crawl around with just my diaper on for awhile, which was awesome! Nothin' makes me happier than diaper playtime. Mommy kept saying that she and Daddy were going to move into my dorm room just like that night if I didn't behave. I don't know what she's talking about. Mommy and Daddy are the most fun people I know. I think it'd be pretty sweet to have them with me in college (but Daddy said no way. he said they're going to have a big party and lots of dates when i'm in college).

After our campus tour (they did NOT point out the super cool drawers. apparently they don't know how to attract prospective students) we hit the road again. I thought I'd give Daddy a break and drive for little bit....

...but apparently you can't randomly play with sticks and gears and stuff when you're driving. So I left that part up to Daddy. Apparently he hasn't seen me driving my lion.

Besides, I had some serious fussing to do.

But really, if I trapped YOU in a carseat for stretches of five hours at a time, you might be a little cranky, too.

So Mommy took a ridiculous amount of pictures because at least the camera was amusing me. I'll spare you, though, and only show you a couple.

And then the kids in the backseat started making me laugh. Oh man - they are hilarious! I hope you have some high school kids in your life, because they are seriously too funny. Especially the guys - there's nothing better than high school guys looking ridiculous in public just to make me smile.

I was so happy to be home, in my own bed, with my own puppy, and playing with my own toys - you have no idea! And I think I'll do just fine when the time comes for me to go to college. It turns out that all I have to do is smile really big and show people my four teeth, and I have them wrapped around my finger. Professors, students, college presidents...yeah...this college thing is going to be a snap.

a letter to jude

Dear Jude,

Yesterday, kiddo, you turned eleven months old. This is ridiculous. As much as I try to keep you from growing up, you seem intent on doing so. Crazy kid.

You know, as each month goes by, Daddy and I keep saying, "This is our favorite stage. No wait, THIS is our favorite stage. No actually, THIS is our favorite stage." So I say with a grain of salt that this past month has been my favorite. MommyDaddy love seeing your personality - your sweet, independent, hard working, stubborn, cuddly, funny, entertaining personality, and we love watching you as you learn and grow. You're such a blessing to us, sweet Jude, and we're so glad you're a part of our life.

In the past month, you seem to have grown by leaps and bounds, but perhaps my favorite area of growth is your ability to play games by noticing repetition. You and I play a particularly fun game (to you, at least) that involves the lid to your bottle. Notice that it doesn't involve any of the myriad of toys we own - but a bottle lid. You take the lid of the bottle, and holding in laughs, hand it to me. I pretend to take a sip, and say, "Mmmm! That was delicious!" and hand it back to you. You giggle and try to put the bottle lid on the top of my head. I put it on my head, and laughing your little hiney off, you climb up to get it down. Then I put it on top of your head, and you giggle and shake your head to get it down. Then we start all over again. Judeabug, there's nothing else I'd rather be doing than playing that sweet game with you.

You're also starting to recognize people and get excited about seeing friends. You love laughing at silly faces people make at you, and you get a kick out of making people smile at you (especially when we're standing in line and you can make strangers smile). You love to be held, but you also get antsy when you can't get down and explore the world around you.

Speaking of which, you're walking around holding onto our fingers and starting to stand on your own for a few seconds at a time. I seriously can't believe that you're going to be one whole entire year old in four weeks. One year! In four weeks, you'll no longer be drinking formula or using bottles. In four weeks, we'll stop referring to your age in months. In four weeks, Daddy and I are going to celebrate one of the most important days of our lives. In four weeks, you'll be one year old.

So today, Judeabug, when you are eleven months old, I want to make sure you know that we love you very much. We love you more than you could possibly imagine. You are cherished, wanted, adored, and loved. I want you to know that when we tell you, "no," when we don't give you what you want because you're throwing a fit, and when we let you cry sometimes, that we do those things because we love you. We love you so much that we don't want you to get hurt and we want you to have boundaries.

When you get older there will be so many times that you'll be mad at us because we don't let you do or have something. There will be times that you'll think we're purposefully making your life miserable, or that you'll think we're unfair and mean. It's okay for you to be angry at us, but I just want you to know that the reason we don't let you have everything you want and the reason we let you experience the consequences to your actions is because we love you SO very much. You can't do anything to earn our love, Judeabug, and you can't do anything to lose it. We love you because. Because we do.

Love,

Daddy and Mommy