Cough. Cough.

The more time I let lapse between posts, the harder it is to get going again, so I'm just jumping in tonight, not playing catchup.

I've been obsessed with cloth diaper shopping again recently. Two close friends and their hubbies are expecting new babies next month, one boy and one girl. So baby gifts and diapering advice are needed! Too much fun.

But as I look around at the diaper-selling sites that have exploded since my last purchase (my first wool all-in-ones), I realize how many moms have been making a profit with their obsession by creating and improving cloth diapers -- while I've simply been washing mine. Maybe Scott and I should reconsider capitalism after all.

I'm reading the book "Affluenza" this week. Short definition: a disease of over-consumption. Although I scored pretty healthy on the self-test, I've found myself fighting off certain symptoms more recently, like the first scratchiness of a sore throat that demands large doses of vitamin C and echinacea. We were sick over the holidays with the usual flu and never-ending cough that was popular this year. But we were also battling the germs of affluenza. 'Tis the season to go shopping, as they say. It's hard to find balance between the desire to be generous and thoughtful and giving, and not getting so caught up in the planning and shopping that the One we're celebrating is forgotten. Christ needs no gifts that can be found at the mall.

But the credit card bills have arrived, and suddenly we're aware of how much over our budget we went. So much for putting our tax return in savings. I have a wish list for 2005 that's short but deep, as in needing deep pockets. A concrete driveway so the boys can ride their scooters and bikes outside instead of all over the house. Hardwood floors in the living and dining room to replace the nasty carpet that odors won't leave. Bunkbeds to entice the boys to sleep in their own room. A trip to Oregon to visit my cousin when she has her second baby. A Disneyland vacation to celebrate our younger son's third birthday. My mom has generously offered to help with the last three items, provided enough affluenza-ridden people are interested in buying expensive furniture from her this year.

They say money can't buy happiness, and I know in my heart that's true. No amount of money will bring back the people lost in the Tsunami. But humanitarian recovery efforts won't get far without it either.