Day Five, Honey!

So, I never took a before picture. Oh, well. It's Day Five of the Crunchy Betty Honey Challenge, and each day is a little...different. I broke out VERY badly in my "problem area" on Day Three, but a few swipes of tea tree oil on a cotton ball, and a LONG session with a "honey mask" and today I think the blemishes are a LOT smaller and "deeper" (if you know what I mean) than they were when I started. I am hopeful and encouraged!

The stickiness is definitely something to get used to, and there has been a time or two when I realize I wasn't as thorough with the rinsing in one area of my face or another (the "overhang" of my lower lip above my chin is an elusive spot!), but these are minor problems that don't cause me any lasting hesitation.

I took Teddy to the Farmer's Market this morning, where he had his first encounter with a harmonica.

I was hoping that my honey people would have squeezy bottles for me to take in my luggage as we travel this week, but, alas. I had seen a honey stand on the side of the road on our way to the market, and had observed squeezy bottles on the table there, so I stopped to check 'em out. Turns out the squeezy bottles were for giving samples. Le sigh. I sampled the honey, though (all raw and "local", meaning that the man's hives range from a town about two hours drive due south all the way along the coast to a town about twenty minutes due west of us), LOVED it all, but bought only one jar (a two pounder!) of white sage honey for twenty bucks. THAT honey will be for eating. It tastes delicious like buttah. If I had bought some for face washing, I probably would have gone with the Wild Mountain Flower version, since he said that was the one you would pick if you have allergies. Maybe the wider array of honey-producing plants has something to do with it? He said that it also had "more pollen" in it, which is probably a big booster of allergen-fighting properties...I don't know. I've only read a couple of books; I'm no expert. (It's a little...weird...that I can't get any google returns for this guy's honey biznez...hoping it wasn't a bad idea to write a check...). ANYWAY. So, now I have the unenviable task of funneling some honey from my OTHER great big jar o' honey into a wee little airplane-safe squeeze bottle, so as to continue this experiment on the opposite side of the country.

Oh, well, at least the mess I'll make will be edible. :)

The Great Honey Challenge

It's day one! I started two weeks of face washing with raw local honey this morning, and I think I like it. The honey was so sticky that at first I was thinking to myself, "what the heck am I doing...I am never going to get this off my face!!" But I have to say that I was SO surprised at how quickly and easily the honey came off with just a few splashes of warm water. And, as the link suggests, I even left the honey on for a few minutes, enjoying the "tightness" that does imitate a facial masque. I had a focus group this morning, so I did put on makeup. That means I'll have to pick up my Oil Cleanse routine tonight, but something tells me that perhaps I should eschew makeup whenever possible for the next two weeks, if I want optimal results (read: if I want my chin-zits to scram. Which I do). So! Day one down, and I'm not running for the hills. (Nor am I still trying frantically to remove solidified honey from my face.) I consider that success!

Detox.

Part of what we're into around here is what many would call "crunchy" living. I just call it "doing my best to be healthy, natural and not too materialistic". This is kind of a struggle for me: in my insecurity and weakness, wanting to get along with everyone and to have them all like me (working on that; it has lead to some pretty toxic situations, and hasn't been good for me OR for my little family. It's a big project of mine!), I end up going along with too much and getting sucked into materialistic and consumeristic mindsets (brand awareness, replacing perfectly good and functional items with whatever is "better", falling into marketing traps, especially in terms of toiletries, cosmetics and, weirdly, kitchenware...) and then I wonder why it's "never enough". EX. HAUST. ING.

Enter Crunchy Betty. This woman has been such an inspiration as I try to clean up my exterior AND interior (emotions and perceptions) act. She researches ingredients, exposes harmful or shady products, and has these amazing recipes for making your OWN toiletries, using healthy food (that you can also eat...it's two birds and one healthy, delicious, skin clearing stone!). She writes about Throwing Away Your Sad Magnet. Her call to take the "It's Not Just Business" pledge keeps me aware of what I'm putting in my shopping basket, onto my skin, into my body and what I'm letting into my life and my mind.


And now, I'm taking her Crunchy Betty Honey Challenge. (Link will be live on Monday July 18.)

 I've never really had BAD skin, but I also never really had GREAT skin, either. And what with some sun damage, a pregnancy and now a busy toddler, my not-so-great-skin is starting to look pretty blah. I started the oil cleansing method a couple of months ago, and the results were mixed. On the one hand, my unblemished skin was clearer than I could remember it being. On the other, the blemishes were VERY blemishy. Maybe it's my skin just detoxing, but that isn't supposed to last this long, according to what I've read via google. So I think this "wash your face with honey for two weeks" idea sounds pretty good!

 Of course, cleaning up my act does not end with my face or hair or emotions or perceptions. There's a pretty intense spiritual detox going on, as well. That's another post for another day. :) For now, let's get honey-cleansing!

Regularly Scheduled Broadcast

Okay, so, HI. Yeah. There are no "fashion" posts, and no exciting accounts of our (wonderful!) time in portland and Dallas and Colorado (yes, we have been BUSY in the long pause in posting). Why? Not because I don't want to chronicle these days with my single son and happy husband, and not because I don't want to share those stories, but because the laptop, it died. ANd now I type this standing up at the living room entertainment center, which is why we got me a laptop in the first place, but when it died not FIVE days post purchase, I got all nervous and paranoid about Big Purchases of Unreliable Electronics, and, well, here we are. Standing up and typing, into a large screen too close to my face and rounded shoulders. My posture, it suffers.

Also. I looked in a mirror at some point and kind of really didn't like what I saw (I do love me, I'll have you know; just not so crazy about how the packaging is sort of starting to look a little more soft and bubble wrap-y than, well, ever. So, while I probably should (and most likely will) start taking pictures of it and posting it here for the posterity of my posterior (oh, my gosh, I am so sorry about that), I think I should definitely get another Zumba class or two under my belt (HA!) before that. Just for the mental boost.

Anyway. That's where I've been while I've not been here. I still feel very strongly about lots of things, like natural living and natural birth and natural parenting and and and...stay tuned.

I'm Kind of a Mess

This comes as a surprise to no one, of course, but today I'm focusing on just a single area of my messy disorganized life: Le Wardrobe. I love color and texture (and natural fibers!) and unique pieces, and while this all makes for one riotous spree through the thrift stores (FAVORITE. way to shop. EVAH), it doesn't exactly lend itself to an organized closet with a cohesive "theme" (and the ability to make many outfits out of few pieces). Also, there is this weird thing that I do where I don't wear any of my fun clothes, EVER, because...I don't really know why I don't get all fun colorful with my costumes on a daily basis. Lord knows, having only one kid, and a relatively easygoing one at that, I have ample time for creating outfits and maintaining the resulting laundry/upkeep. I have caught myself, on occasion, thinking "What if I want to wear that SOMEWHERE, LATER, and it's in the laundry?" Which is a extremely ridiculous reason to not wear ONE outfit out of an entire closet full of them, especially since, see above re: never wearing any of the fun things EVER. I am vast, and contain multitudes. And they all disagree with each other.

ANYWAY. Enter Louise. Louise came into my life last May, while I was visiting Portland for my nephew's Baptism (and, no doubt, wearing something boring. See above), and I will never ever forget it, because I saw her at Mass, where I was futilely hushing my then 18 month old son in the back of the church. The choir processed up to Communion first (so they could then sing for the rest of us while we received), and in the parade of billowing robes and solemn faces, I caught a flash of marvelousness on someone's feet. These shoes are unforgettable, even if you don't then acquaint yourself with their remarkable wearer, who is pretty amazing even in the least marvelous shoes (although I think she leaves the wearing of unmarvelous shoes to me. See above). I've been following her postings and feeling some rumblings of inspiration. And I think I'm ready (ALMOST) to follow her lead, and start getting all dolled up to go to the dry cleaners (or whatever it is that I do with my day...)! And because I am nothing if not adventurous (/stupid) I've decided to start with our two-week interstate tour of special occasions: a Dallas graduation and then another Portland jaunt, to celebrate wedded bliss.

THIS should be INTERESTING. :D

So Much To Say

...and no way to say it! Part of the timing of the Endless Yattering launch pivoted on the acquisition of Mama's new laptop. And we bought a netbook, and I was blissfully loading pictures onto it, and downloading skype (hello, seesters!) and customizing all the little settings that make the generic portable computing device one's own, when it happened: the little fudger started malfunctioning. And in a REALLY irritating way. I *could* work with it, but I feel that at almost thirty I am beyond the days of standing on one leg and using only my pinky fingers in order to make a technological gadget work. So to speak. If I can't use it regularly, I don't want it, is my motto.

So I have lots to say, and lots I want to share, but I can't, because I am sharing THIS while standing up at our entertainments center, which is pretty much the most uncomfortable and UN-CREATIVE way to express oneself through type EVER. So, until we acquire an actual Lap. Top. Computer. that won't start doing things like open random webpages while I'm in Word, posting will be sporadic. And it's OK that I am more sad about that than you. :P

A Snippet

The sentiments expressed herein can be summed up in a single facial expression, and it's the one that is often given me the first time that I mention that I am Catholic, Pro-Life, Pro-Natural Birth, Pro-Breastfeeding, or any combination of the above.

Because I'm a Pansy Princess

OK, no, really, am I being ridiculous, here? Yesterday at the UPS store, Teddy was sitting on his bum on the floor at my feet, quietly playing with his shoes (?) while I sent off all the Mother's Day gifts, plus a couple more packages (it was taking a while, and he was being VERY manageable, for which I am grateful, since it was naptime...) A woman came to stand in line behind the person behind me, and walked up to Teddy, telling me how cute he was, and started running her fingers through his hair. Luckily, blessedly, THANKFULLY, this did not set him off, as it could have, since he was so tired (last errand of the morning, I was really pushing to get it done), but it still really bugged me. I was polite to her and thanked her for the compliments, had Teddy thank her, too and finally was able to leave.

I was thinking about it off and on later, and I realized why I was bugged, and there are a couple reasons.

First, one never hears of someone just going up to people and starting to touch them unsolicited unless the touched person is a) pregnant, or b) a baby or a toddler. In the first case it is flat out rude, and not only because the area being touched is usually the stomach. (Why anyone would ever think that any woman wants to be touched on  her stomach by a complete stranger, whether she's pregnant or not, is totally beyond me, but anyway.) (Note: this never actually happened to me. A stranger did ask me if she could touch my stomach, and I couldn't help it: I looked at her like she had three heads before saying, "Uhhhhh, no?") In the second case, well, maybe it isn't "rude" (in my opinion, it is), but it is certainly a bad idea. The baby could have stranger wariness, and the last thing any mom needs is someone setting her baby off in public. Maybe the toddler is being taught to not allow people he doesn't know to touch him, and he could start shouting "Bad touch Mommy!" or something. (Or maybe, as in this case, Mommy is reminded to start teaching her toddler to not allow strangers to touch him. After yesterday, I'm considering training him to bite....no, not really...!)

Also, not to be all "our children our are speshul friends for us to nurture and protect their widdle feelings" about it, but, it really does seem to me that it's kind of disrespectful to run your fingers through a strange child's hair when you wouldn't (I assume she wouldn't, anyway) do the same to a strange adult..

What do you think? What would you have done or said?

Also, a portrait of a boy and his hair:

Bookish

Books and literature will be a big part of this space, and I'll just jump in feet first with the book I've just finished, in plenty of time to return to the library before my seven days with it are up:

Find it on Amazon. It turns out to have been a dangerous read for me, as I now want to fill our entire back yard with garden beds, chicken runs and a pig pen! Never underestimate the power of inspiration. It's powerful, but, apparently, not at all contagious; Matt is not quite so enthusiastic to lose our outdoor entertaining to space to more dirt piles and some live animals. So I'll have to content myself with our current setup of raised beds lining the yard, a few barrels lining the front, and fresh eggs from our neighbours up the road, for just a little longer...

The Starter's Pistol

This space has been years in the making: pondering off and on, plotting here and there, planning what I want to accomplish, how to get there, why I want to do it. But then I realized that the only thing that was REALLY holding me back was my fear that my life as a stay at home Mom to a toddleby was not coherent or cohesive enough to "translate well" to a "web presence". Which is a ridiculous hangup to have, since my goal is not at ALL to be any sort of "presence" other than one that is more readily searchable - for myself- than Facebook notes and links, which is where I currently store all my "inspirations" and "notes of note". This very first post, which was originally a family wide email, illustrates this PERFECTLY. When I FINALLY "birthed" this space this past week (and the moniker "endless yattering" will be explained in due time. I hope), I had planned to tweak the template, poke at the profile settings, figure out the commenting and privacy, and pretty much take my time with all the stage setting before I launched a brilliant, poignant, pithy FIRST POST, which would be the epitome of Who I Am and Why I Am Here. And then last night happened. And I composed the above mentioned All Family Email. And then I blew off my friends tonight, vaguely citing that we had "an eventful evening last night", so we "need to lay low tonight" as an excuse (which they, because they are so gracious and understanding and kind, did not pry further into). And then I figured I owed them an explanation for SURE, and that the explanation was kind of a Big Deal, so maybe it should also be mentioned publicly. So I started yet another Facebook note. And I thought, "NO. Life with a toddleby is NOT coherent or cohesive or tidy. This happening is pretty much the most appropriate way to kick off this new space: with a bang."

Welcome to our life with a toddleby, plus other various interests and pursuits.


Since his last ER visit was the night after he was born, hanging out with the wonderful nurses and doctors at Sierra Vista in SLO ("because they have a NICU" was pointed out to us, cue my freshly postpartum WOW-head-explosion), our darling son must have thought he was about due for another. At 7 o'clock on Wednesday night, our  little Teddywas standing on his garbage truck, like we tell him not to do a hundred times a day, and it rolled out from under him and he fell, banging his head on the tile floor (SPOILER ALERT: he is fine), like he does a hundred times a week. We gave him arnica topically and orally and he nursed and seemed ok (eyes equal and reactive - I check after EVERY fall, no sluggishness other than what he'd already been displaying due to his lack of a nap). But an hour later he was still complaining of pain "OW, wight HEAH", pointing to his head bump (enter Children's Tylenol), and an hour after that he started vomiting. (Mama deal-breaker alert.)

So we took him to the ER here in Templeton, and they were not busy so we were seen right away. The doctor agreed that his eyes were fine, his sluggishness could be exhaustion, but, like me, he was worried about the vomiting so they told us we could (of course) *choose* whether to have a CT scan, keeping radiation concerns in mind. We chose the scan.  Because he had thrown up a total of four times before being by seen by a doctor, they gave him a meltaway Zofran (which he then threw up) while we waited for CT. (Side note: I was slightly annoyed that the nurse just walked in and popped it in his mouth without *really* asking if we wanted it. We *had* already noted that he has no allergies to "medication", but still... She mentioned that it was flavored, and I'm guessing that it was a nasty poisonous artificial flavor, but, HEY, I'm the person that let him eat a whole slice of birthday cake with his lunch, AND he practically cracked his head open on my watch, all on the same day, so I recognize that I'm not really in a position to be nitpicky...)

I guess NONE of the departments were busy, Praise the LORD, because we were taken back to CT within twenty minutes of the order being put in, at about 10:45 pm (Teddy initially chose to have me stay with him in the CT room but then when he was on the table with the apron on him, he said "Mommy, I scared" and I pretty much folded like a cheap fan, so Matt took over.) Matt stayed with him while I watched the tech run the scan, and it was super fast, not nearly the fifteen minutes he'd asked us to hold Teddy still for. Matt talked to him throughout the beeps and flashes of light, and by the time it was over, Teddy wanted to come back and do it again sometime (um, no thanks!). The results came back great: no fractures or interior bleeding, so he was good to be discharged, and he fell asleep as soon as he laid down on the bed, clutching the little stuffed dog the nurse gave him in the exam room (they are made by volunteers, and if we didn't take it, they'd have to throw it away, for health reasons of course). So, that was our Wednesday night: ER visit number two, hospital number two. Let's hope this little guy doesn't decide to take a tour of ALL the emergency rooms in the county...

(My poor, sleeping post-CT baby, and his brave strong Daddy.)

He is completely fine today; we went to the beach with a friend and he and his little friend chased seagulls and had pulling contests with the prime sand toys. He had a great nap, and is merrily eating his dinner, chatting garrulously with Daddy about his fun day. God is so good to us.