Stating the obvious in the title but bear with me.
I’m selling some cloth nappies, and they have been used. Heck, some of them I bought secondhand too! But now that our eldest is potty training we don’t need a full stash for two kids, and the space freed up is no bad thing either.
But my mother, and I’m sure she’s not alone in this, thinks it’s a tad gross to buy or sell used nappies.
Erm… they are reusable, guys.
Yes, we wanted to use cloth to save some pennies but also we wanted to save the thousands of plastic based, chemical filled disposable nappies that diapering our children would have created.
But why would I throw away cloth nappies when we are done with them? Where would they go if not into that same mound of rubbish we all would much rather ignore. I don’t like thinking about it either.
But I also strongly feel it’s our responsibility to look after this planet.
Cloth nappies can be hot washed, and then they are good for another squishy bottom, that’s the beauty of them.
So yep, I’m selling them as and when we’re done with them. Sorry, I’m not sorry, and it’s not because we are hard up.
I was thinking back to when I last would have blogged, then thought it must have been some point last year. Nope, not since Autumn 2018! Well if that isn’t indicative of how busy parenting toddlers keeps you I don’t know what is.
Quick catch up. There are now two little people, I spent a lot of last year pregnant and we met our little boy at the start of October. I am starting to come out of the fog of those early months, and would like to crack back on with this a little. We’ll see…
While pregnant, Jack and I talked about kids clothing and toys a bit, and how one of the reasons we didn’t want to find out the gender of our baby was we didn’t want to be inundated with ‘boys’ or ‘girls’ clothes and toys as overly gendered things for kids just isn’t what we’re into.
Little did I realise quite how reliant on clothing others are in making assumptions about your child’s gender. For example, today Edie and I wandered around a Christmas market with my mum. Edie was wearing a cream animal hat, a navy jumper, white leggings with navy stripes and bright green socks and was front facing in our carrier. As we approached each stal,l on the whole, each stall holder made a complimentary comment toward ‘him’.
‘Oh! What a gorgeous boy!’
‘How handsome he is!’
‘Can I have a smile, little man?’
All well meaning, but when did navy and cream become gendered? I’ve gotten so used to it that I’ve actually stopped correcting people, but today (sorry everyone) I’ve renewed my sense of purpose. Colours, toys, jobs, and this world aren’t, or shouldn’t be gendered and I don’t want my children feeling that they are.
If you aren’t sure, then…. ask. And if you are worried about offending, just saying ‘What a cutie!’ ‘Oh! How gorgeous are you!’ It’s super easy, no gender needed, because it’s not important, and shouldn’t define how you treat a child. That’s just my opinion of course, but she’s our daughter so thankfully that matters where she is concerned.
Today on my break I went for a walk around some residential streets near I work, as you do when it mild and not raining. I walked past two builders who were working on one of the houses.
As I passed they both stopped and one loudly said “Good Afternoon” in my direction. I don’t tend to talk to strangers in the street, everything about being safe as as woman has told me not to react.
As I carried on walking, neither smiling nor speaking he bellowed after me “She must be deaf or something! Rude cow!”
I and friends of mine have talked about the fact that we have been dealing with unwelcome comments in the street since we were barely teenagers. What do these men expect the outcome to be? Should I holla “Good Afternoon” back, be chuffed that he said that rather than the regular torrent of “Give us a smile” “Cheer up love” and the list goes on.
I wish I could quiz them on why, or educate them on how intimidating it can be. I’ll not feel guilty about posting about it. We should be able to walk on our lunch breaks, on our way to and from work, and heck even home after a night out without having someone force themselves into our day.
If you’ve not donated because you’re not sure if you can there is lots of information about who can here on the Blood.co.uk website. A quick overview:
Most people can give blood. You can give blood if you:
are fit and healthy
weigh over 7 stone 12 lbs or 50kg
are aged between 17 and 66 (or 70 if you have given blood before)
are over 70 and have given blood in the last two years
Men can give blood every 3 months and women can give blood every 4 months.
If you are wondering about the 3 vs 4 months, I think it’s related to the speed with which women regenerate blood, but don’t quote me on that. Google it.
What’s the donation process like?
Now, the actual donation, is a you might expect: a needle in your arm for a while, whilst you lie back and count ceiling tiles.
The overall process is a little longer, and it’s important to remember that the staff are doing their best and it’s a great thing to do. The sessions I have been to in the last near decade have always been fully booked and running around 20 minutes late.
Register online and book an appointment. Don’t just show up. They want you, but they won’t have space on the night.
You’ll get a form sent to you in the post about your current health, and recent travel. Try to fill this in before you get these and have it ready to hand in. Makes things much quicker.
Drink lots of water and do not skip meals on the day of your donation.
Take a book or a mag. There might be some there, but there are no guarantees you’ll find one you want to read.
Have a biscuit and a drink after. They are free, and will help you on your way home. No one wants you feeling faint!
Book another appointment before you leave!
There is way way more information about what happens, the health screening, after your donation and what lovely donor card you’ll receive on the website here.
If you have any questions at all about donating, I’m not a nurse and my own experience is only as a donor but I’d be happy to answer.
This may or may not be ok to say: I don’t love cats. It’s the claws. I am not saying they aren’t cute but when I think of cats I think “they scratch”. When happy, when pissed off, when playing. I don’t understand them like I do dogs.
That being said my sister has got some kittens, we picked them up on Saturday and they slept soundly in the car on the way back to Brighton. I am hoping that spending time with them will change my feelings. Jack would love a cat.
And there is no denying that as tiny kittens they are super duper cute.
So yes, I think maybe I could be a cat convert… We’ll have to see how I feel when they double, and then triple their current tiny sizes.