When I was pregnant with Tilly, I excitedly called Jeremy to tell him I’d won a pack of really good reusable nappies. He did not share my excitement, and told me to call him back when I’d won something cool, like a car. I scoffed at his unsupportive nature, and hopped up on a high horse that saw me saving the planet.

Tilly is now 18 months old, and yesterday I put the following ad up on TradeMe (NZ’s version of e-bay, for you non-Kiwis):

For sale: Bambino MioSolo all-in-one 6 pack reusable nappies.

I wanted to be the mother who used reusable nappies, I really did. So I researched all the options, and discovered the Bambino MioSolo nappies are the bee’s knees when it comes to reusables.

If I’d been a better person, these nappies would be swishing about in my washing machine right now, and our bank account would probably be quite a bit healthier. Instead, they’ve languished, unopened and unloved, in the drawer I put them in as a temporary measure when I got them. “I’ll use them when she’s out of the tiny newborn disposables”, I told myself. Lies.

My baby is rapidly approaching the toilet training stage of proceedings, so it’s probably best I sell my pack, and come to terms with the fact that I’m just not as good of a person as I’d like to be (but I’ve been signing environmental petitions and recycling all my wine bottles, so I’m not a total loss).

 [product information from the official website followed, which I won’t bore you with, unless you’re in the market for reusable nappies, in which case I’ll send you the link!]

Writing that ad got me thinking…I had so many good intentions before I had babies, and I’ve rarely followed through. For example:

I’d lovingly home-bake all their snacks. They’re currently both munching on a packet of Fruit Shreds (which claim to contain Actual Vegetables, so that’s ok, right?)

They’d hardly ever watch TV.  Sesame Street is now a regular feature (but it’s educational!)

I’d encourage gender-neutral play. Amy thinks she is the actual Queen Elsa, and has at least four costume changes daily from a gigantic bucket of frothy princess dress ups.

I would reward good behaviour, bribes wouldn’t come into play, and I’d never shout unless it was a matter of life or death.HahahahahahahahahahahahaHAHA. Seriously, HAHAHA.

I’d cherish each and every moment with my children, and would never wish time away. Sometimes I see that the oven clock is at 4.59pm, and I stand, immobilised, counting the seconds until it clicks over to 5.00pm and I can pour a wine.

I could go on, but I feel I’ve highlighted enough of my shortcomings. Also, there’s a party at my daughter’s kindy this evening and I have to get cracking on preparing a plate for the shared dinner. The Mother I Thought I’d Be would probably be cooking something delicious, nutritious and difficult. The Mother I Am is about to stuff ham and cheese into some store-bought white rolls.

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