Poop & other such no longer off-limit words.

I should warn you, this is a "Mom Blog" and as such, sometimes there will be mom stuff like talk of diaper rash, spit-up and even (ewwwww) poop! But why be so bashful about it? In the words of Taro Gomi, everyone poops.

I started a thread on a message board I joined when I was pregnant with Ben that's all about poop.

Well.

I'm a mom. Along with getting two lines on a pregnancy test and a fat belly, you also watch all your inhibitions fly right out the window. You get poked, prodded, felt-up, patted, nearly-molested, and, eventually, you get a baby ripped from your loins all while sitting spread-eagle, pantless, in a hospital room with a light shining right on you. Yeah. Poop talk is nothing.

Along with the realization that nothing is really off-limits anymore, I also discovered that I am not who I used to be. Tim and I give each other an "allowance" every month (a terrible word, I know) that's just fun money. We can do whatever we want with it without an ounce of guilt. Two years ago, I'd have marched to the closest boutique and bought myself these (Rock & Republic, my new fave):




But instead, I spent my morning drooling over this:

Um, that is a Goodmama ALL-IN-ONE diaper! What's so great about that? Previously, they've only made fitteds, which I'm not a fan of (if you're not a cloth diaperer, feel free to skip this entire boring post that no doubt has you falling asleep in your coffee cup). But their designs are SO dang cute and I've heard the fit is amazing. Too bad it's a $30 diaper. Like, thirty dollars? For a diaper.

Will I spend my allowance on it? That's to be seen. I blew a chunk of it on two rugs and some throw pillows today. Whoops.