How to Make a Wool Soaker from a Recycled Sweater

Should you ever decide to destroy one of your own grossly expensive sweaters-- or do the smart thing and pick up a wool sweater from the thrift store-- here's how you can turn it into a woolie diaper cover:

1) Cut off the sleeves where they meet the body of the sweater:


2) Measure your child's inseam. Then, starting from the sleeve cuff, measure off that same amount (or less, if you want it to be short pants rather than long). Knick the fabric with your scissors to mark your spot. Then cut a slit in the sleeve that goes from your mark to the top of the sleeve. Repeat steps on the other sleeve:


3) Trim the edges at the top of both sleeves to even them:


4) Using an overcast stitch, finish off all of the edges which you have cut. ** Be sure to use 100% polyester thread, which repels moisture**


5) Turn the sleeves inside out. Then sew them together at the place where you first cut a slit in the arm:


6) With the pants still inside out, fold over the top. Sew it down, creating a casing for your elastic, leaving one inch of the casing open in order to insert elastic. The casing should be about 1/2" wide. Then cut a piece of 1/4" elastic to the size of your child's waist. Attaching a safety pin to each end, thread the elastic through through the casing and sew it in place at the opening.


7) Remove safety pins, put the long woolies on your kiddo, and let him admire your handiwork:



Oh, and don't forget to lanolize it before use.
Next I'll show you how to use the rest of the sweater to make a t-shirt!

How My Son Got $200 Pajamas

Niagara Falls has nothing on my son. Until recently, our only hope for a leak-free night has been the Bummis wrap. Even the few times we tried a fancy disposable diaper, it would leak—unless we used a Bummis wrap.

This arrangement has served us well, but we needed a change. I panic when anyone besides me diapers Peter for the night. If you don’t get every millimeter of cloth tucked into the wrap, you’ve got a leak. We needed a cover that could slip on easily over his double-stuffed, hemp diaper—a cover so big and stretchy that you just can’t get it wrong.

A cover so easy, even a dad could do it.

The answer? Wool. It’s odor-resistant, antibacterial and can miraculously repel and absorb water all at the same time. It’s the perfect diaper cover, especially for overnight.

Our only problem is that the slightest touch of most wool has me ready to claw off my skin. Maybe I’m allergic. Who knows. But simply putting Peter in a wool cover, least of all having him sleep next to me for part of the night wearing one, just isn’t something I could fathom.

There’s only one wool I can handle: cashmere. Making a wool cover for Peter meant sacrificing one of my beloved J. Crew cashmere sweaters, bought in the days when I had money to spend on things besides groceries. This kid is sleeping in style. Unwilling to waste an inch of that precious wool, I even made him a top to match.
Peter debuted his new pajamas last night. Not only did it keep him dry, but for me, it was like sleeping with a cashmere teddy bear. Can you imagine?

Of course, Tom wasn’t crazy about seeing his son “dolled up” in the fuzzy, pale lime-green. Just wait until he sees the second set. I’ve got another sweater in salmon, which I can only hope my husband thinks is orange, but he may decide it’s pink…

Have You No Shame?

I’m reading a lot of discipline books, and I’m struck by the negative references to shame.

What is shame? “A painful emotion caused by consciousness of guilt, shortcoming, or impropriety,” according to Websters.

Parents often expect things of their children—particularly toddlers—that are beyond a child’s capabilities. When the child fails, some parents will shame him. Shame on the parents, I say. As do the experts. But then we part ways.

See, I don’t believe that all shame is bad. Think about it: Wouldn’t it be good if dishonest CEOs had some shame? Wouldn’t it be good if the Girls Next Door had some shame? Wouldn’t it be good if the marketers of formula had some shame?

Shame is an appropriate response when you’ve done something unseemly. Without it, there’d be a lot more sociopaths in the world.

“But if you allow your child to feel shame,” the books say, “he’ll think your love is conditional.” Quite the contrary, I say. When the time comes that Peter deliberately disobeys me (we're not there yet), I certainly hope he feels ashamed. Because then, he’ll get to know my love in a whole new way. He’ll find that I still love him even when he’s at his worst.

Unless you know what it means to feel shame, you’ll never appreciate what it means to be forgiven.

A Match Made in Heaven

“Goodness of fit.” It’s a term used to describe how well (or not well) the temperaments of a parent and child mix. When their temperaments fit nicely, that gives the child the best possibility for social and academic success.

It also allows the mother, if she only has this one child, to pat herself on the back for being Best Mother on the Planet while smugly offering advice to anyone who’ll listen. I pray for the fertility of these mothers. Give ‘em enough kids, they’ll get their comeuppance.

(Oops, did I say that out loud?)

So, how nicely does Peter’s temperament fit with mine? Well, we’re alike. We’re both persistent, intense, active, and not-so-adaptable. Either we were made for each other, or one of us is going to drive the other into therapy.

I’m not sure what the experts would say, but you know what? I believe that Peter and I are the perfect fit. I believe that my next child, however different he may be, will be the perfect fit. And the child after that, too. I believe this because God doesn’t make mistakes. When God formed Peter in my womb, he knew what he was doing.

He knew that Peter’s colossal resistance to sleep training would humble me. He knew that Peter’s elevated sense of humor would delight me. He knew that my determination might sometimes frustrate Peter, though it would also stretch him.

He created both of us, knew us before we were born, and in his wisdom chose that we be mother and child. Together with Tom, we are puzzle pieces in his ultimate plan, even if we don’t know what the final picture will be.

I do not always understand the ways of God, but this I know:

"My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:8,9

Books I Can't Live Without

Of course, you don’t think I could put all my books in storage, do you? A few escaped to a bin beneath my bed. If I were stranded on a desert isle, these are what I'd want with me (well, these, and my sexy beast of a husband, my tiny tot, and some sun screen):

• Breastfeeding: Biocultural Perspectives (Foundations of Human Behavior) (Foundations of Human Behavior) edited by Kathy Dettwyler and someone else whose name I can’t remember.
• Emily Post's Etiquette, 17th Edition (Thumb Indexed)
• The Complete Book of Christian Parenting & Child Care: A Medical & Moral Guide to Raising Happy, Healthy Children by William Sears
• Heirloom Sewing for Infants by Sarah Stone

And for Bible Study:

• Dictionary of Paul and His Letters/a Compendium of Contemporary Biblical Scholarship
• Dictionary of the Later New Testament & Its Developments
• Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels
• Encyclopedia of Bible Difficulties, An
• Biblical Hebrew: An Introductory Grammar
• Basics of Biblical Greek Grammar

Farewells

I’ll never understand the expression “Parting is such sweet sorrow.” I mean, what’s sweet about it?

I’m writing here with a broken heart. Weeping, really. I’ve just made one of my greatest sacrifices as a mother, saying adieu to 98% of my closest friends. You know, Leon Uris, C. S. Lewis, Martin Luther…

Yes, I’m still stuck on the books thing. Great as public storage is, I’ll miss my personal library. So here, in no particular order, are the five books most difficult for me to pack away…

• The English Reformation by A. G. Dickens. The intrigue, the theology, the history-- I just can't get enough of England's first Protestants! And forget Henry VIII. Let's talk about his son Edward who, though a "child" king, was absolutely reformed.
• Ina May's Guide to Childbirth by Ina May Gaskin. Don't let all the naked hippies scare you-- this is an enlightening book, one that every pregnant woman ought to read. Better yet, OBs.
• Taking Charge of Your Fertility, 10th Anniversary Edition: The Definitive Guide to Natural Birth Control, Pregnancy Achievement, and Reproductive Health by Toni Weschler. Boy does this bring back memories! If I'm ever fertile again, I'll pull this one out of storage.
• The Rise of Moralism: The Proclamation of the Gospel from Hooker to Baxter by Fitzsimmons Allison. This is the most important book I read in seminary. It shows how a shift in preaching from grace-based theology to a moralistic spiritualism paved the way for deism and ultimately atheism.
• Pride and Prejudice (Bantam Classics) by Jane Austen. For some light, clean, and yet noble reading, you just can't beat Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. Incidentally, this is one of the few books in the world for which the movie (Pride and Prejudice - The Special Edition (A&E, 1996)) is just as good!

1/3 of my closest friends:

Creative Problem Solving

After months of battling my bookworm-- that is, my child who devours books in the most literal sense of the word, even though he won't eat half of what I put on his high chair tray-- I have finally solved the problem.

Did I use our new code word, "Off limits"?

A simple, "No"?

Handslaps?

Redirection?

Positive Reinforcement?

No, I found something much more effective:









Meanwhile, I've discovered the joys of public storage. Did you know you can get a 5X8 bin for only $30 a month? The same bin might be as much as $100 depending on the part of town, so you've got to look around. But I have to say, if you are parenting a toddler, just give yourself a break and make the investment. Not only are our books stowed away, but so are tabletop items, Christmas decorations, maternity clothes... And we've got a lot more room to live.