My First Product on the Market!

Upcycled Safari Tote
with Vintage Buttons
First of the Jungle Virgin Series

Back in April, I said I would do it! After sewing my babe a monster baby for his first birthday (I will get around to posting pictures of that soon!) I have really been on a roll. I had never sewn before, was borrowing my sister's sewing machine without a presser foot, and did it completely from scratch without any sort of pattern or anything. It turned out pretty cute and really inspired me to start creating, especially since receiving from a friend a second hand sewing machine of my very own! I have made a few small keepsake purses and journals that I will be giving as Christmas gifts, but I wanted to offer this little tote for someone who might appreciate my new found excitement in handmade!

This Upcycled Safari Tote is home to a sweet felt elephant I cut by hand. It has been adorned with vintage buttons from my mother's button box which has been passed down from my Great Grandmother who she now cares for here at the farm. It is the perfect size for books or magazines with long enough straps to comfortably sling over your shoulder. Completely handmade and unique it is sure to be a conversation piece.

This is the first of the Jungle Virgin Series, creations inspired by the wild and true stories of my Great Grandmother Virginia. Why Jungle Virgin to honor her stories? In high school she detailed the back of her green "slicker" with tape creating a picture of a palm tree and her nickname, "Jungle Virgin."

Toddlers, Mod Podge, and Holidays... Oh My. No Really Though, Oh My.

Quick Updates:

My Babe is one...
He is now a six toothed, cruising walker, chatter/signer, dancing explorer nursling! His favorite word is pretty, he loves flowers as well as the game of dropping things on the floor which he has cleverly named, "Uh-Oh." Nearly 50 people came to celebrate his one year mark. For his birthday his Daddy made him some beautiful brightly colored wooden blocks and I baked his cake and sewed him a monster baby. Pictures to come!

Christmas is almost here and I am crafting, cutting, stitching, (soon to be) sewing, mod podging, shopping, (soon to be) baking, and looking for inspiration everywhere. Pictures to come!

We have many festive adventures planned so stay posted!

My Nearly One Year Old Nursling

My little nursling is nearly a one year old little boy!

Today while walking around a department store with my Mom and spaghEddie I realized that he is growing more quickly than my fluttering heart or embracing arms can keep up with!

I tried to nurse him while walking around. With one arm. Discreetly. He had other plans.

Instead, he wanted me to cradle him completely while he pulled up my shirt to touch my collar bone. He wanted to take quick breaks to shout, "Hello!" and whip around to glance at all the passerby. When I was slow to letdown he was determined to examine and pinch my nipple. This was my cue to find a rocker and have a seat to finish nursing. This was a nice experience to share with my Mom who joined us without a flicker of uncertainty even now when I don't bother with a blanket or cover anymore. Not only that, but my almost one year old who is in the 95th percentile for height looks like a kid on the lap of a barely over 5 ft me. This makes me smile even now and I will be sure to let her know how much I appreciate her support despite her prior experience or knowledge of breastfeeding.

My little one has been extra affectionate lately. I wonder if it has to do with his sensing that his Mama wants to bank up all the baby love she can get before he turns into a big kid. This reminds me of an article I read the other day on how we focus so much on all the firsts, but rarely recognize let alone remember many of the lasts. I am glad we have not put a one year limit on breastfeeding like I had assumed everyone did early on in my pregnancy. Besides all of the known health benefits and the AAP and WHO recommendations, there really is something extra special about breastfeeding that I don't think either of us are ready to let go of just yet.

P.S. I am planning on making a monster baby for his first birthday gift! Better get started!

Return

The warm weather kept me outside for my little one's first summer adventures. Now that autumn is settling in it is time to get back to some of my writing, including this blog. How nice it will be to sit and sip some warm apple cider and type away.

Autumn is my most favorite season. I can feel the mood of my muse in the cool air against my neck. I can hear her in the wind cutting through crisp leaves. Her scent is sweet in dimly lit mornings. Her taste is warm and spicy. Autumn has beautiful timing.

Summertime Update

The kids (our new goats!) are settling in at our home and we love having them here! We have been making s'mores at the fire pit in the evenings after tucking in the chicks and kids for the night. I love the smell of a camp fire...


Some other things I love right now and why:

Extra Virgin Coconut Oil

• natural SPF 15
• body and facial moisturizer - no more blemishes! really!
  
• soothes my Babe's eczema and my Mom's psoriasis
• great for nails and cuticles
• used sparingly it is good for hair styling and/or conditioning
• not to mention all of the culinary uses!

Baking Soda

• for a great list of uses check this out
  
• lately I have been using baking soda with a few drops of lavender essential oil mixed in for my no 'poo scrub, as a foot powder for shoes without socks, and under my arms

My Babe

• he is experiencing the sight, smells, textures, and tastes of new foods
• swam in a pool for the first time
• sits up for long stretches
  
• rolls everywhere
• plays with his big, pink bouncy ball
  
• is simply amazing, adorable, and inspiring!
  

Great, Great

Life has been whirling by...

So many things my son is learning to do, my Great Grandma is forgetting.

He learns to pull himself up to standing, teeters back and forth grasping my hands, then drops to his bottom in a burst of giggles. She is helped to stand on her aching legs, gripping the handles of a rarely used walker, a wheelchair is pushed behind her as my Mom helps her to sit as gracefully as possible.

He opens wide his gummy grin excited to experience the tastes and textures of new foods. When it runs down his chin we joyfully capture the moment through pictures. Formula and medication are inserted into my Grandma's stomach through a feeding tube by a syringe and a machine. The tube hangs from her belly, a foreign object inside and outside of her body at the same time. She gets to have bites fed to her of thickened treats like grape juice and apple sauce. We lift her elbow so that she might wipe her own chin with dignity.

They have a special bond. We all put in so much effort to entertain him, encourage him to babble, laugh, and play. My Grandma does little more than look into his eyes and he lights up. He stares right at her, bouncing his body around and making every noise that he knows. There is something rare that is shared between a Great, Great Grandma and a Great, Great Grandson that I can only imagine to understand.

Today

Tomorrow my babe will turn 6 months old.

Each day I anticipate, fear, and yearn for my tomorrows while desperately clinging on to my yesterdays. I often miss the beauty of the moment while spinning through my past and imagining the future.

"Nothing has a stronger influence psychologically on their environment and especially on their children than the un-lived life of the parent." ~ Carl Jung

Nursing In Public

I had my first nursing in public incident... sort of.

A very close friend had a baby shower. I made sure she wouldn't mind if I brought my babe along to which she replied, "Of course! It is a baby shower after all!" Including her, there were 3 pregnant women, family, close friends, and her grandpa who mostly stayed in the background taking pictures.

On two occasions my babe was hungry so I fed him. I stepped outside of the room to get a good latch and then returned to the group. I didn't use a blanket, but nothing was showing.

Anyhow, I guess one of guests complained to my friends that it made her uncomfortable that I nursed my baby. She told her that was something that should only be done in some one's own home.

Okay, I swear it was 80 degrees in the house. My babe and I were both sweating. It was way too hot for a blanket which would have covered his head, not my breast since it wasn't showing in the first place! But of course, that wouldn't have been good enough since I wasn't inside of my own home anyways. Also, we were there for 5 hours! Everyone else was chowing down, but my baby should wait until we are home to eat?

I am really disappointed. Of all the "public" places I should feel comfortable nursing my baby it should be at a close friend's baby shower with a bunch of baby crazy ladies and pregnant women, right?

Sadly, the girl who complained happened to be pregnant herself. Really, taking this into account I actually find it more sad than offensive.

There is so much running through my head that I will probably come back to this topic again.

Anyone else have a similar story? A positive nursing in public experience? Anyone relate to how this woman may have been feeling?

It Is Final

My babe and I have officially moved to the farm. It happened sooner than I had expected or even planned, but now it is done.

No one last anythings.

In the morning I will wake up to my beautiful baby and he will wake up to me and together we will be alright.

Moving On

My Mom and spaghEddie helped me get the new room ready. The babe and I should be moving in sometime this week.

I am trying my best to be excited and keep in mind all of the positive things that are to come. Still, I cannot help but to mourn what might have been.

My First Mother's Day

I hope all of my mama readers had a wonderful day!

Yesterday was Mother's Day, my very first since becoming a mother.

My little love gave me his first tooth cutting through as an early gift the evening before. I never imagined that much joy could swell inside me simply from feeling a hard little catch on his gums. In the morning, we were making all our sounds. I continued to encourage him to say, "mama," as I often do and he finally put his little lips together without a slobbery raspberry blowing out. He tried hard to copy me, but it sounded more like, "mba-mba," which of course makes my heart melt anyhow.

It looks like this Thursday we will be moving to the farm. My feelings are regularly playing tug of war which made for an emotional first Mother's Day for me. I go from sad, to relieved, to angry, to excited, to heartbroken.

My little boy is beautiful and it keeps my heart aglow.

Conscious Intent

It often doesn't occur to us to consider something other than what we are used to. Then, when we are questioned it is hard to consider that we have simply been mislead through the the natural occurrence of cultural conditioning!

For example and example only, it is unfortunate that people are so uncomfortable considering the possibility that something so routinely done to such a private part of a baby, simply for cosmetic reasons, against their choice might not be a good idea despite the fact that it has become common. We are creatures of habit, we go with the grain, etc.

It is tough. It is like a switch gets flipped when you suddenly realize that just because something is *normal* or *common* doesn't mean it is right. Obviously, we know that is the truth, but to apply it and really question is another thing. I went from "Why wouldn't we circumcise?" to "Wow... I cannot believe I thought this was normal and okay."

Really, I am not trying to even discuss circumcision again. What I really want to talk about is why it is so hard to break out of our cultural conditioning, our lack of conscious intent.

Any bites?

My Mom

I just thought I would share a picture of my Mom (playing in the snow this past winter) since I write about her in many of my posts. I definitely think my sense of style has been influenced by her.

(Photo by L.L.R. edited by myself.)

Right In The Kisser!

I made lip stain!

Just a bit of freshly juiced beet and some extra virgin coconut oil makes a pretty tasty pout!

Hot Chicks & Young Kids Farm

Yay, we are going to have a farm!

So my Mom and her husband, spaghEddie, went and picked up some baby chicks the other day. They had been planning to, but finally went through with it on a whim. Since the babe and I were mid sunny afternoon walk I told her to go ahead and pick ours out for us saying, "You'll know my chick when you see it." She looks like a fluffy caterpillar resting with her sisters under the heat lamp in the laundry room. Now we just need a name.

This morning the babe and I woke early, bundled up, and went out with my Mom and spaghEddie to pick out a couple of kids! On the drive there I was determined to name one of the goats Regina. It turns out that it is a bit much for amateurs to take on getting a female in hopes to have raw goat's milk. Someday... Instead, it was suggested we get the 2 neutered males which will be old enough to come home with us in about 6 weeks!

Hmm, I think Regina is a perfect name for the chick, now we just need one for the goat!

Things are really starting to fall into place and the babe and I will be moving in probably sooner rather than later. We will share a small room on the back end of the house with our own private entrance and porch. There is a lot of work to do, but I think it will turn out to be quite the adventure!

Foreshadowing

Anyone remember those fortune tellers we used to make as kids? You would fold up a piece of paper just so and then label different sections with numbers and colors. On the inside flaps where fortunes that you would come to depending on what number and color you chose.

My life is like one of those things lately. I have choices I need to make, the unexpected is being revealed, and everything is unfolding.

I feel there is a strong connection between a dream I had and the day that was carried out from it.

I went to my Mom's (which is also our Grandma's house) to help her clean out a spare room that my little one and I will be staying in for a while. One entire wall of the room is covered in lattice with old frames and family photos hanging from it. We took each one down with care, reminiscing about our family. There we were, sharing memories while creating one.

My Mom is in a bit of a rush to complete some tasks around the house before our Grandma (I am always referring to my great Grandma unless I say otherwise) returns home from the rehabilitation center. Also, our lease is up where I am living in August, but I may leave sooner if everything falls into place.

The afternoon was warm and bright. We took my babe and a couple of the dogs for a walk up the long gravel driveway to the creek. We talked about cleaning up the outside bird cages, getting some chicks, and maybe even a goat. People often use the saying, "When one door closes, another opens," but sometimes it goes the other way around too, which is less optimistic, but true nonetheless.

I headed off to work. Shortly after my Mom left the house to visit our Grandma, her husband answered the door to my Mom's brother. My Mom and Uncle have not seen each other in almost ten years. Once off work, my Mom and I went to see him. I cannot imagine how my mom was feeling, but I wasn't short of feelings myself. Not only is this man my Uncle, but he was also one of my Dad's best friends. Since I have no contact with my Dad's side of my family, he is one of my closest links. I crave a connection to my Dad who I lost just after I turned 13 years old.

There is little I can write that will give any justice to the emotionally charged evening we shared. I cannot even bring myself to proof read this right now, so please excuse any grammatical messes I may have made.

Building Fences

Last night I dreamt I was building a fence with my Mother. We were measuring, sawing, nailing, and painting. We peeked inside people's windows as we made our way across the block and talked about the lives we imagined they were living.

I often have very detailed dreams. Writing them down rarely happens because I always imagine I will be able to remember them, especially when they resonate so deeply. More often than not, I forget them after only a few days. I grasp at my memory searching for the story I hope explains the lingering feelings. Nothing. So instead, I will start writing them here and sharing them with you.

Sweet Dreams Sunday

My beautiful babe has strawberry eyelashes. Under the evening sunlight I noticed just how brightly they are colored. I would like to thank our Moby wrap for the close up. As we walked along the lake side, my little love rested against my chest taking in all of the scenery until he drifted off to sleep. We rarely use our stroller, but when we have, his daddy and I take turns between who has to push and who gets to walk along side looking at our beautiful boy.

Tomorrow I am heading to my Grandma's to help my mom clean out a spare room. The babe and I will be staying there for a bit come late summer. It is something I dread and look forward to all at the same time. We will be sharing a home with my Mom, her husband, my Sister, my Great Grandma, and a mass amount of animals.

The house has enough space for everyone. Thankfully, Grandma has plenty of property which will come in handy when enough space really isn't enough, not to mention adventures, pictures, exploring, inspiration... Ahh, see? Being close to my family and nature are some things I am looking forward to. I will save the dreading part for another post.

Always Untitled

I wrote this a while back. It was born to be read aloud, so clear your throat and breathe your voice into it. Let me know what you think.


Cracked
wide, Spilled
pride, White
lie, Justify.
Set in motion,
To be out of
Proportion, i
Rest and wait,

Exhale

Inmate of
A different sort,
Hurts my belly
When I contort,
Wrap my skin
Around your corpse,
Call it love,
Call it force.

Vigor, vigor,
Exhaust.

My mornings are
A stale aftertaste
Of vomit
And Winston Cigarettes
A dead man drags
Himself
Into the kitchen
For black tar coffee.

I do not speak to dead men,
And they do not speak to me.

I dream of a bed
With sorbet sheets
Soaked in sweat
Where I can catch
My sleep in a
Butterfly net
Instead of wrestling
With rotten bellied
Moans and
Groans that echo
Through dimly lit
Hallways and stick
To the red carpets
And then to the bottom
Of my feet leaving
A filmy residue
On the soul.

Despite the furnace,
Here it is always cold.
The kind a hat cannot help,
Or a sweater
Or a crochet blanket
My great grandmother's
Sister made her
That I wrap around
Her crepe paper skin.
She sleeps with wax earplugs,
So she sleeps with sanity
Even while the decay
Filters through her vents
From the blood she delivered
Watching westerns
In the next room
Smoking his life.

Cracked
wide, Spilled
pride, White
lie, Justify.
Set in motion,
To be out of
Proportion, i
Rest and wait,

Exhale

Cracked
wide, Spilled
pride, White
lie, Justify.
Set in motion,
To be out of
Proportion,

Vigor, vigor,
Exhaust

Baby Gum Tree

Just wanted to share this picture from our trip to Pike Place on my birthday!

Whooo is a Crafty Mama?

This is my starting point. My plan is to make totes, reusable grocery bags, and the like using old fabric from thrift stores and then cut and sew felt images onto them. This was made from regular felt you can purchase at a craft store, but once this stash runs out I will be making my own felt out of wool.

Ideally, I would like to get my own sheep, but that his highly unlikely. Instead, maybe I will seek out some sheep owners in the neighboring farming town. Getting my wool directly from the owners will ensure that I am not making anything at the expense of mistreated animals. Whooo wouldn't appreciate that? Sorry, I couldn't stop myself.

Birthday Weekend Recap: Part 2

Sunday:

I thought we were just going to my babe's grandma's house for dinner, but when we arrived the whole family was there!

There was constant ooh-ing and ahh-ing over my little one like usual, games, ice-cream cake, and even presents!

Some awesome things I received were books, gift cards, sewing supplies, clothes, and the best of course was hanging out with everyone. I had received some felt, beach umbrella and chair, and a beautiful journal already! Lucky me..

Birthday Weekend Recap: Part 1

Lucky Me! I ended up getting a whole birthday weekend of adventure and celebration!

Saturday:
A couple friends, the babe, and I went to Pike Place and had a blast sampling honey, taking pictures, and listening to some talented performers. Walking around down town is something I absolutely love to do!

I know it is silly, but wearing my babe in my wrap made me feel like a stitch in the tapestry of Seattle culture. I saw a few fellow baby-wearers, but there seemed to be more people curious than familiar. It was also interesting how comfortable people were with making comments and asking questions. Maybe the spirit of the market inspires socializing a bit more freely than a department store.

After our Pike Place adventure we headed back to my place to visit with friends and my little sister while getting ready for a night out. The late night highlights included dancing, bragging about my babe, and insisting strangers smell my hair as part of my very convincing no 'poo pitch. I also managed to embarrass my friend during these and other wacky antics, which was of course all part of the fun!

Happy Birthday to Me!

Today is my birthday and I am expecting some awesome adventures to unfold! Oh, the suspense!

Wait, I AM a Milk Machine!

After pouring my morning cup of coffee I remembered that we are out of milk, which I need to fully enjoy my coffee experience. A mocha breve would be even better, but I at least need milk!

So, here I am sipping my nearly unbearable strong cup when it occurs to me, "Wait, I am a milk machine! Just a little squirt isn't weird, right?"


(Photo courtesy of L.L.R., edited by myself.)

No 'Poo: Day 23

Although it is technically day 23 since I committed to beginning my no 'poo journey, it has been a few days longer since I actually last shampooed. My fondness of this all is almost tempting me to call it an anniversary. I wonder, should I celebrate weeks, months, or even years? How can I be so serious about this or even know what I truly want when we haven't even been going together a month?!

This must be the toxins trying to work their way out of my system. Anyways...

So my wonderful friend who does hair offered to clean up my cut as a gift for my upcoming birthday and it turned out great. She also let me know that the waxy feeling my hair has when it is wet is old shampoo build up and will go away eventually. I thought it was just sebum. My hair is getting to the point where it is starting to repel water now. Weird.

Some great news is that I have yet to hit any real rough patches. My hair always looks and smells clean and has yet to become greasy. I am only using baking soda about once a week now and have dropped off the apple cider vinegar since I don't have long ends to condition. Sometimes in the morning I look a bit wild, but a quick rinse is all it takes to bring me back to my usual no 'poo do.

Parkinson's: More Than a Tremor

Lately, I have been spending much of my free, and not so free, time at the hospital. My great grandma, who has recently become a great, great grandmother due to my little guy, has very recently been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. As a result, our family is trying hard not to be taken by the undercurrent of guilt.

The picture above was taken less than a year ago. Today, she lays in the hospital with a feeding tube in her nose and the mask of Parkinson's which has frozen most of her facial expressions. The story leading up to this is a painful, confusing one tangled with assumptions, accusations, and guilt that I am just not ready to unfold yet.

She didn't just give up, she wasn't simply depressed, she wasn't exaggerating, she wasn't pretending. Everything, everything was because something really was very wrong.

Learn more about Parkinson's disease and the symptoms because it isn't just a movement disorder. The classic tremor that is typically associated with Parkinson's didn't show up until very recently. Had a diagnosis and treatment been done years ago things would be very different today. When I angrily asked the neurologist who came to confirm the diagnosis why no one knew what was wrong, why her doctor was treating or dismissing all of her symptoms instead of recognizing the real problem she simply responded with, "She isn't a neurologist."


(Photo courtesy of L.L.R., edited by myself.)

21 Great Baking Soda Uses

Here are some great ideas on what to do with your baking soda!

1. Exfoliate
2. Replace your shampoo and no 'poo
3. Put out grease and electrical fires
4. Sprinkle a bit into shoes and slippers to keep them fresh
5. Make a foot or bath soak
6. Pat on under arms and feet to keep dry
7. Use instead of toothpaste
8. Sprinkle on carpet before vacuuming
   
9. Run your coffee pot with some and water to clean
10. Mix with water in a bowl and cook in microwave to soften stuck on foods
    
11. Put a small box or bowl in your fridge for freshness and to soak up moisture
    
12. Make a paste to soothe cold sores, bug bites, sunburns, and rashes
13. Use as an ant deterrent
14. Sprinkle into cat litter to help control odor
    
15. With water, use as mouth wash
    
16. Clean your drains
17. Polish silverware
    
18. Use in ashtrays
    
19. Add to your laundry for tough stains
20. Clean your dishwasher by running it through a wash
21. In fact, use baking soda to clean everywhere and everything like

• Pots and pans
• Bathrooms
• Kitchens

Make sure to spot test when using on surfaces and fabrics. Always use food grade quality when using on your body or ingesting.
Please feel free to contribute your ideas!

I Cut My Own Hair...

"Maybe you should cut your own hair cause that can be so funny! It doesn't cost any money and it always grows back, hair grows even after you're dead."
- Regina Spektor's Ghost of Corporate Future

Lately, I have been anxious for a change, among other things. What is a girl to do? Well, get her hair done of course! Even more uplifting than a trip to the local salon is a rubber band and some heavy duty kitchen scissors. One quick clip and a few little snips and you have got yourself quite an accomplishment!

Now, I certainly have no training or experience cutting hair which made this even more fun. I was creating, undoing, letting go, taking a risk, challenging myself, and thinking outside the box all in one exhilarating chop.

I have had a few opportunities and offers to "clean it up," but I don't think I am ready to fix it just yet.

Save the Foreskin!

Most who know me would say I am rather passionate. Although it is a lovely descriptive word, I wonder if my opinions don't carry their deserved weight because it is sometimes assumed I am only riled up because that is just what I do. I imagine many of my friends and family thinking to themselves, "Oh it is no big deal, she is just going off on one of her tangents." This thinking, I believe, is exactly what got my babe and I in the whole KFC chicken and honey eating incident. (Unbelievable story to come soon.) The truth is, it isn't that I blow everything out of proportion, but that many things are important to me and, like I said, I am rather passionate about them.

I do not believe in routine infant circumcision. It had never really occurred to me before I became pregnant, but since we were waiting to be surprised by the sex I figured I should look into it. My initial opinion was that since it seemed everyone I knew from my generation was circumcised there must be a valid reason for it, right?

Then, I started thinking about how many things are done, repeated, and carried on not because of any rational reasoning, but because it doesn't always occur to us very social beings to think far out from our social perimeters, even when we should. I want my life to have meaning, purpose, and thought therefor I must practice consciousness, live with intent, and well, think.

After doing some research and asking medical professionals, I couldn't think of one justifiable reason to choose a routine circumcision. I brought it up to the babe's Daddy and we decided that if there just wasn't any reason to irreversibly change a perfectly created little person without even getting their input first, then why even consider it?

There are two arguments that get at me the most:

• Baby needs to look like daddy
• The whole locker room scenario

First of all, it is not a hard conversation to explain if it were to come up, "When daddy was a baby his penis was cut, but we didn't want to give you an owie on yours." Next, I don't think it is a responsible way to start out the very beginning of a child's life by surgically altering them so that they can supposedly fit in better. I believe it is much more supportive of somebody's self worth to teach them that they are wonderful being themselves just as they are. Cutting at an infant's most private body part without their consent is not the same as buying a teenage boy something he desperately wants just because everyone else has it. Most people are much happier with their lives when they finally grow out of that I want to be like everyone else phase, why begin some one's life with and encourage it through a risky surgery?

Then I told my mom. When I brought up that many insurances won't even cover it anymore because it is basically cosmetic surgery for an infant's genitals she offered to pay. Ugh... She is now supportive by simply saying it is my child and my choice, but that is just the thing, I don't believe it should be my choice, after all, it isn't my penis.

There is tons of very valid information out there, but I don't think it is even all that necessary with the most obvious reason why we should leave babies' penises alone. Of course, there are no medical benefits of a routine infant circumcision, there are serious risks, it is irreversible, but my favorite, which needs no data, statistics, etc. to back it up: it is not my body!

Anyways, my mom told me the other day, "Grandma was right about you. Even when you were a little girl she was saying you would be out there picketing just to be picketing. Why don't you get a bumper sticker that says, 'Save the Foreskin' on it."

Picketing just to be picketing, huh?


(Photo used courtesy of L.M.I.)

How To No 'Poo: Day 2

So today is my second day of no 'poo-ing. Don't worry, this isn't a matter of fiber, but actually the decision to cut out shampoo! I will chronicle my journey of my no 'poo adventure, but thought maybe some of you would like some more info in case you are:

1. Curious
2. Grossed out and wondering WHY?
   
3. Interested in trying it yourself

First I will give you some reasons why one might consider the no 'poo route.

1. Dry hair
2. Oily hair
3. Frizzy hair
4. Less Plastic
   
5. A general hair rebellion
6. To try something different
   
7. All the gross shampoo ingredients
   
8. So you can say, "I don't 'poo," and see people's reactions
9. Shampoo strips away hairs natural oil sebum which can result in dry hair or an overproduction of Sebum resulting in oily hair

Supposedly, if you cut out 'poo-ing all together then after a while your scalp with figure out how much sebum it should be producing. This should result in your hair being coated in just the right amount equalling awesome hair days from there on out. The catch? Appearently there is a rough patch for some people, but if you can push on through then amazing, low maintenance hair is promised in your horizon.

Getting Started:
First, you can start weaning yourself from 'poo or you can just skip right to the baking soda and apple cider vinegar. Also, in order to encourage the sebum to travel down your hair shaft a wash cloth (to smooth from scalp to root) or natural bristle brush is recommended.

I started weaning myself from 'poo maybe a month or so ago. I started only using it about once or twice a week. Then, yesterday I finally broke out the baking soda and apple cider vinegar. To begin you mix 1 tablespoon of baking soda with water to create a paste. You massage this paste gently into your scalp and roots then let it be for about a minute. After rinsing well do a rinse of apple cider vinegar. I mixed 2 tablespoons of organic apple cider vinegar with some water and poured it into the ends of my hair, letting that sit for a minute as well before rinsing it all out with water. I plan on only using the baking soda and apple cider vinegar bit again when my hair seems to really need it. Also, I think it is important to note that my hair does not smell one bit like vinegar like I thought it might!

Well day 2 of no 'poo has begun and so far so good! Stay tuned for more of my no 'poo adventure!

Grow Up!

Watching how fast my babe grows reminds me how slow my progress has been lately. This past weekend he has rolled from tummy to back, back to tummy, grabbed his feet, and ate KFC chicken with honey!

Okay, the whole KFC and honey thing is actually a very infuriating story that I will be sure to share once I can see the humor in it a bit more. Rage is still the first emotion that takes over, but I am getting there.

Anyways, watching him inspires me! So, in order to help myself commit to really stepping out of my comfort zone, I am compiling a list of goals, interests, and ideas that I want to explore.

• Crocheting - already started
  
• Sewing - need to learn to use the sewing machine
  
• Cooking - ugh
  
• Writing - everyday
  
• Reading - some plans
  
• Creating - so far so good
  
• No 'Poo-ing - as in shampooing, today is technically day 1
  
• Going More Green - see above, cloth diapering, any more ideas?
  
• Supporting - like breastfeeding, natural childbirth, and not routine infant circumcision
  
• Discovering My Hidden Talents - we'll see!

Okay, here I go!

From Here On Out

One year ago last Friday, March 20, I found out that I was going to be a mother.

The emotions poured through me colorful and bright. Shock, fear, excitement, and disbelief overtook me. The disbelief made itself quite at home and I imagine it will stay with me the rest of my life.

I dote on my beautiful babe's every wakeful moment in complete awe. I am really looking forward to helping his little toes experience all the sandy, wet joy of the beach for his first time this summer. There is so much I want to teach him. Even more though, I want to stand back so that I do not get in the way of opportunity. It is easy to send someone a message that suggests you don't believe in them. If he wants to become or do anything, who am I to tell him he cannot? If at 6 years old he wants to fly, I will just point him in the direction of the swing set and away from the rooftop.

I, on the other hand, do not even bother to swing anymore. It isn't that I am particularly pessimistic, I just don't expect to fly. He is growing everyday and I desperately want to catch up to where I left off. I want to challenge myself, try new things, be adventurous, spontaneous, learn, explore, discover new talents, and everything else that will inspire me to grow! How can I expect to nurture his excitement for life when I am so caught up in the things that keep me from living it?

Today, when I leave the house I am only going to check the heaters and locks once. If whats her name tries to give me any grief about it I am really going to let her have it this time.

Step One: Give Her a Name

My life is unfolding. There are ragged edges that have curled up over time and I am ironing them out, wondering which ones to simply tear away. In order to create change, I need to know what exists to change. What have I imagined into life, but really isn't so?

Most days I wake with an eagerness to quench my thirst for more. Although, I hope I can never accomplish and eliminate such a desire, I would like to at least try. Instead, I distract myself with mundane life because I probably have less chance failing at that. When there is extra time just aching in my day to bring me to a new level I allow it to be smothered out with my life's greatest debilitating critic.

There is a familiar self doubt which comes to rescue me from the possibility of embarrassment from pitiful failures. I once believed it to be my enemy, but over time, I have grown rather accustomed to it. I almost feel it deserves a name, an identity of its own. The term Stockholm syndrome comes to mind.

An anxious heart drumming first came over my body when I was 3 years old. Over the years it would randomly reappear with little to no warning. Each time the feeling overtook me more spreading from my body, to my mind, and eventually seeped into my very being. Now, every time I am ready to break out she whispers and I listen,

"Are you sure? You may fail. You will just further prove to yourself what you already know. It will hurt, do you want that? In fact, let me remind you that your doubt in your self is so strong you must check the heater and locks at least 5 more times before you can even leave the house. If you cannot even trust that the door is locked after the fourth time checking it, how can you believe in yourself with anything at all?"

Yes, I think she definitely needs a name so I can tell her directly to, "Shut the hell up."

So It Begins

I have documented many of my thoughts in notebooks, journals, and on scraps of paper. Sometimes, a passion to spill the words into my everyday life takes over. The company I keep is not always amused. Maybe you will be.

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