Small Changes

I'm tired of making promises I don't keep - not promises I can't keep, just promises I choose not to keep after a while, for whatever silly reason I choose.

I've never been one to make New Year's Resolutions (and I'm still not), but I do frequently shout forth giant plans and promises for my future, and then utterly fail at following through.

I'm the queen of not following through.

I've actually been feeling pretty discouraged about that lately - I guess that's part of the process of acknowledging that this is a part of who I am that still needs a lot of refining.

In order to cheer myself up a little bit, I decided that, instead of resolutions, I'm going to start doing a little review of various small things I set out to do, and actually accomplished, at the end of each year.
Uh-oh.  Did I just make a resolution by accident?

So, without further ado, 2015 in review:

1. I committed to a 30-day green smoothie challenge, and completed it (and I'm in the middle of another one right now...)
2. I committed to a 21-day cleanse, and completed it (and I'm starting another one in February)
3. I told Baby Sister I would knit her a hat, and I did (even if it did take me 4 months...)
4. In the last 4 months, I journaled more than twice the amount I did earlier in the year
5. I made a decision to pick myself up when I fail, and keep going, instead of just brushing my failures completely under a rug off in a corner somewhere, and I've tried to incorporate that principle in my life
6. I made a decision to use up all the makeup I have before buying more, and I've stuck with it
7. I dedicated my bedroom as a technology-free zone, and, while I haven't stuck with it 100%, I'm pretty convinced it's a good idea, and I'm still chipping away at my bad habit of browsing social media at all hours of the night - now I'm just reading books at all hours of the night...

That's a pretty good little list - here's to more small accomplishments in 2016

Also, can I just say, some strange girl has taken over my body today:

• She only snoozed her alarm once
• She actually went to the gym
• She came back home and did a small home improvement project (Project New Year - New Bedroom coming soon to a blog near you hopefully)
• She got to work on time
• She came home and wrote a blog post
• AND NOW SHE'S ABOUT TO BE IN BED BEFORE MIDNIGHT!

Who is this person?
If this is what happens when you decide not to make resolutions, put me on this boat for the rest of my life.

Overwhelmed

Sometimes I get to this weird place where I feel completely overwhelmed, and there are a million things I need to do, so I don't do any of them.  Does anybody else do this?

Today, I needed to:
Buy more chirstmas lights
Finish trimming the Christmas tree
Drop off a package at Fedex
Finish knitting a hat
Clean my bedroom and bathroom
Do laundry
Buy groceries
Cook soup

But did I do any of these things? Nope.  There were other things that I needed to do that I did do, but I felt like I was only functioning on a survival level and nothing above that.

Finally, I just sat down for a minute, because I was even having trouble prioritizing - my list was just too big for me to deal with at that point.

Then, my wonderful Mom asked if she could take me out to dinner, and I said yes, and, suddenly, all was right with the world again.  It's amazing how Moms can do that!

Happy Birthday to Me!

Confession: most of the last month, I thought my birthday was this Wednesday (as in today), but no. It was Tuesday...

Last week (on Cyber Monday, no less), I found a really great deal on a curling iron I've been wanting, but I wanted to do a little more research before actually committing, so I sat down and studied up on it, and decided that, yes. I wanted it.

Then, for some unknown reason, I decided I should get ready for bed before actually making the purchase, so I did. And, as I was brushing my teeth, I decided I needed an electric toothbrush, then and there, so instead of the well-researched curling iron, I bought myself an electric toothbrush.

It came today, and I'm interested to see if it was indeed a good decision.

I guess maybe this means I'm a real adult now? That I bought myself an electric toothbrush instead of a curling iron for my birthday?

Let's Get Personal

You know what's really hard?  Facing yourself head-on, and saying "Self, you're afraid of these five things," then proceeding to talk about them.

Just as a note - I don't have a ton of "physical" fears.  I tend to lean very much on the idea that I am the Lord's daughter, and I'm immortal until my work here is done.  That doesn't mean that I'll jump off a cliff or drive my car down the highway at 120 mph, but it does mean that I'm not incredibly afraid of what people can do to me.
The fears I do have are ones I have to face pretty frequently, though:

1)Snakes.  I seriously have so much terror in my heart when it comes to these things - maybe it's because they are so incredibly unpredictable?  They slither, and their entire body is basically made of joints, so they can turn in any direction at any given time!

2)Guns.  They make me incredibly uncomfortable.  Like if I see one, even if it's in a cabinet or something, with no other humans nearby, I just want to quietly walk backwards out the door.  I live in Texas, where people carry guns around with them and in their cars, and I've had to face this fear frequently.  Thankfully I've never had to face a person with a gun in their hand, and I pray I will never have to.  I honestly have no idea what I would do.

3)Failure - and here we're talking specifically about failure in my own eyes.  It doesn't really matter if someone else would look at my life and say I failed in certain areas.  That already would have happened multiple times, honestly.  I'm talking about looking back and saying to myself that I failed at something and never redeemed it.  That would be a horrible day.

4)Not being liked - okay, so this one does have a lot to do with other people.  I realize that I have been incredibly fortunate to have a life where I've almost always been well-liked in the circles I've chosen to run in.  The more I've gotten older, though, the more I've realized I really don't like not being considered like-able.  Yeah, it's happened, and I've dealt with it, but, if possible, I'd rather never have it happen.

5)Not being a mother - probably the biggest on this list. I've heard people say they want to get married because they're "afraid of dying alone" or something along those lines.
I don't know - that's not really my reasoning for wanting to get married.  I have friends and family that love me and will be there for me, and that's not a big fear of mine.  I do want to be married, and I do want to have kids.  I want both of those things equally, and in very different ways.
Out of the two desires, though, the greater fear lies in not ever having kids.
And just for clarity's sake, when I say "having kids" I'm not really referring to the biological process of pregnancy and child-birth (though I think that would be a pretty awesome thing to experience, leading up to raising a child).  More than anything, I want tiny people in my life who call me mommy, and ask me crazy questions, who will grow up to be adult people in my life who still ask me crazy questions, because they know they can bring me their crazy, and still be loved.
In a nutshell, if I don't ever have kids, I will always feel like there was some part of me that was denied life.

My First Attempt at Being a Fashion Blogger

Well, I knew it would happen eventually, and tonight's the night.  I drew the slip that says "What You Wore Today."
*Insert monkey-covering-eyes emoji here*
Despite my feelings regarding selfies, I do follow a number of fashion bloggers, so I figured I might as well do this thing right, hence, my first attempt at fashion blogging:
and a few things I learned while I was at it


Y'all.  It is NOT easy to take self-portraits.  As natural as I hope this looks (who am I kidding...) it does not feel natural at all.
Also, you'll have to try multiple different camera angles, and move every lamp in your house to different locations.

This morning, I went up to the hospital to take some more pictures of my dear friend Christa and her brand new little family of three.
A sampling of those pictures may be forthcoming! But no guarantees around here...
I don't know about y'all, but I always freeze in Hospitals, so I opted for long sleeves and boots.  Good choice, considering that it turned out cold and rainy all day.


After about 20,385,830,257,943,750 pictures, you might begin to feel a little more comfortable.

Shirt//Belk   Jeggings//J.C. Penney   Boots//Sold Out Similar Here


If you do this long enough, you'll end up just laughing at yourself, and that, my friends, is the sweet spot.
And you might even finally understand why your dance teacher always said you had chicken arms...

I was so excited to finally have the chance to wear this shirt, because the sleeves actually fit my crazy-long arms.  I always end up cuffing the sleeves on button-downs because they end just above my wrists in a super awkward spot, but these - no such thing.  They end exactly where they should!

On an entirely different subject, please excuse the less than stellar carpet and wall color in my dwelling... I only rent, so tearing up and replacing permanent fixtures is frowned upon.
Someday, I will fulfill my dream of flipping a house or two, but, sadly, this is not the time or place.

Reality Check

Well, I could tell you about what I'd like to think my morning routine looks like
OR
I could tell you how my morning actually went down today

OR
I could do both:

I've never been super attached to the idea of a set-in-stone routine, and though I've been at the same job for a little over a year and a half now, my schedule has pretty much changed constantly over the course of that time - nothing that could be helped, and quite frankly something I've enjoyed about my job.  As much as I'm really not a fan of change (I like to have a plan), I do tend to get bored with the same thing over and over.  All these schedule changes gave me the opportunity to pursue various new things as different time-frames during the day opened up.

With my most recent schedule change, I ended up not going to work until 11, and I know myself well enough to know that, just because I could, I would sleep away my morning until such time as I had to get up to go to work.

That being so, I designed this morning routine that would make me actually get up at a decent hour, and laid it all out in my journal:

• My alarm goes off at 6:45, and I let myself snooze it until 7ish - I'm working on learning to get up before my alarm goes off if I wake up feeling rested
• I always keep my water bottle by my bed at night, so first thing when I get up, I drink whatever water is left in there
• Make coffee and have a quiet time - write out gratitude/answer Bible Study questions for the week.
• Make a green smoothie (theoretically, every Sunday, I stock the freezer with "smoothie packs" for the week - all the fruit I need for a smoothie in a plastic bag with the amounts of liquid base I'll need and any ingredients that shouldn't freeze listed on the outside of the bag)
• Get dressed + ready for the day + make bed + tidy bedroom and bathroom

Sounds pretty great, right?  And it really is when I actually carry through and make it happen, but some days that just doesn't work out so well for me.  As an example, here's what my morning actually looked like today:

• Dragged myself out of bed at 6:45, drank my water, and discovered that I was out of coffee creamer.  Now, my love for coffee is pretty strong, but rather conditional on the availability of cream and sugar...
• Curled up on the couch, mourning the loss of morning coffee, checked emails, and might have dozed off for a minute or two?
• Looked at the clock to discover that it was 7:41! (Yoga class is at 8...)
• Suddenly realized I was starving, and hadn't made smoothie packs for this week, so raided the cabinet and found graham crackers and almond butter
• Threw on work-out clothes and headed out the door, except no!  The "tidying" part of my routine hasn't been happening this week, and I just tossed my keys somewhere when I got home last night, so I can't find them now
• Found my keys on the bedside table, and looked at my bed, considering whether I should or should not make it - I'm washing linens today and I'm already late, so might as well not.
• Hit the gym

Side note:  I just really wanted to say that... I'm still such a newb at the whole "working out" thing.  This month, I bought my first gym membership, mostly for the fact that there are yoga and ballet exercise classes in the morning, but I have some time between the two classes, so I'm trying to learn how to use at least the basic equipment.  

This morning, I felt like I was handling the treadmill like a boss, then I did the whole fall off the back of it thing, so that was great...

• Ran to the grocery store for creamer, and while I was there, remembered I need toothpaste too.
• Felt like I finally got my life back on track, then got home to realize it was body wash I was out of, not toothpaste...

I guess you win some and you lose some.

Let's discuss the fact that I'm not married.

My topic for today was "Your current relationship; if single, discuss that."
Well, I'm single, and I have a lot of thoughts about that, and I actually already had a draft all about it, so here's a long-winded post for your Tuesday:

*I wrote this a while back, hence the titles of old articles that aren't really floating around any more.  It took me awhile to decide to post it because hurting anyone who loves me is the furthest thing from my intentions. But sometimes people who love us say things with the best of intentions and still end up hurting us, so here I am, hoping that I can be gracious and make my point at the same time.*

Lately there have been a lot of articles and blog entries shared on Facebook about marriage - "5 Reasons I Got Engaged Before 23", "23 Things To Do Instead of Getting Engaged Before You're 23",  "26, unmarried, and childless", and "I Wasn't Ready For Marriage" to name a few.

Apparently 23 is a trendy age at which to get married?  I remember when I was 20, and signed up to work on Sumer Staff at camp, and a well-meaning friend of my Mom's said to me "That is such a great idea!  You could meet a really nice man there!"

I was recently asked "So, are you engaged or married?"

Apparently there wasn't a "single" option.

Once, I off-handedly mentioned to someone that three of my closest friends were married to men they'd met at camp.  She replied "And I'm sure you will be too, one day."
(Not the point of the conversation, in case you were wondering.)

Some time back, at a wedding shower no less, I ran into someone who hadn't seen me in a while, and she innocently said "I can't remember, are you married?"
Before I could even open my mouth to respond, another lady jumped in and said "No. She's still waiting."

This list could go on...

Really, though, I know that none of these women meant any harm by their words.  They were just trying to be friendly and encouraging.  Regardless of the intentions, though, it's hard to hear things like this all of the time.

If I'm honest with you, as I try to be on this blog, I have to admit, sooner or later, that The-Thing-I-Really-Want-To-Do-With-My-Life is to be somebody's wife, and mother to a few somebodies.

That's it.

Yes, I want to write and write, and write.

Yes, I want to get a Master's degree eventually.

And yes, it is a big dream of mine to someday teach college students who hate English to love it and express themselves well through writing it.

These are dreams and goals that I have, and am pursuing.

But the biggest dream is one I can't accomplish on my own.

It's one I may not accomplish.

Did you catch that?  I just said I may not ever get married or have kids.

If you think that was easy for me to say, let me tell you right now, it wasn't.

The fact is, though, that I have no assurance, no firm promise, that I will have those things that I want so much.

Jesus and I have had a lot of conversations about this, and my poor mother has had to answer her fair share of weepy phone calls about it.

And you know what?  I've received a lot of encouragement through those conversations with Jesus, and phone calls with my mother, but assurance that "my turn" will, in fact, come "one day"?  There's none.

Zip, Zero, Nada.

I'm learning that just the fact that I have a desire for something doesn't mean it's going to be a part of my life.

I may end up being the awesome old English teacher who lives in a house full of windows, where the tea kettle is always boiling, with a Cottage Garden in the front, and a yard full of dogs in the back.

(I'm allergic to cats.  Otherwise, I'd probably include "Cat-lady" here...)

Right now, as I write that image, I'm smiling.  I'm learning to be okay happy with it.

Ultimately, friends?  Jesus is enough.

I am, in fact, happy with this point in my life, with the extended (maybe life-long!) chance to invest in the girls that surround me without feeling guilty about taking time away from a family, to speak truth into the lives of many others, and be available 24/7.

I am happy to play "Auntie" to my friends' wonderful children - those who are already here, and those who are coming.

I am happy, so happy, that I have the freedom to travel whenever I like, and visit my friends who have gotten married and thus been scattered to the 4 Winds.

That has not been an easy road.  I didn't willingly rush into the arms of this new kind of happiness.

I have drug my feet, and this road has even been made a little harder by all the well-meaning women in my life who tell me things like "Don't worry.  Your turn will come."

Simply put, I'm happy here now.  I'm not worrying.

But if you tell me not to worry, I'm going to start worrying, and I'm going to fix my eyes on things other than Jesus and where He's leading me.  If you tell me my turn will come, I'm going to start clinging to a false assurance that is not from Him. 

The hard thing about all of this is that these people who love me may be fully convinced their words are true, but the fact is, at this point in my life, those words are not true for me, and are not what I need to be focusing on.

My family and my friends have never pushed me into matrimony.  They've never told me that it was my only choice, or even that it was the best choice, but, regardless, we live in a world where marriage is such a huge focus.

It's such a huge focus, that we're choosing sides about whether we should be engaged before we're 23.
It's such a huge focus, that we assume everyone who wants to be married is going to be married eventually, and we talk in those terms.

When I say "we," I'm talking to myself too.  I'm just as guilty of dishing out these platitudes as anyone else.  It's almost an automatic response in our society.

But, I want to suggest a better way.  Let's not discuss the fact that I'm not married yet.

Let's just discuss the fact that I'm not married.

Let's discuss the fact that there are lots of good things about this time.

"But that's the discussion we've always had," you may say to me.

Yes that's true, but these discussions almost always end with "And when you are married..."

Let's not do that.

Also?  Please tell me funny stories about your kids and grandkids.

Tell me about that hilarious moment you had with your husband last week.

And, if you're really ready to trust me, tell me about that argument you're in the middle of.

I have friends who are married, and who have children, and I've managed to keep up these friendships through receiving and giving this type of transparency.  It may seem weird to talk to a single, childless woman about your marriage or children.  But really, think about how boring life would be if we only talked about things we both fully understood or were comfortable with.

A dear friend of mine put it perfectly the other day when she said "Sometimes I feel like a non-person."

We're not Moms, or wives, but neither are we just waiting around or in between.
We are people, fully formed adult people with intelligence, and self-control, and understanding, and empathy.

Even though our lives now look very different, there's no reason we can't relate.  We're both human, and, ultimately, have the same struggles, just in different environments.

And when I trust you enough to bring my heart to you, handle it with care, knowing that you (and I) have no idea how my life will turn out.

I will try to give you that same respect, because, honestly, we could have this discussion about any number of life stages.

Wow. It has been a little while.

And I have seriously missed blogging, but obviously not enough to take a stab at creating more than one measly draft in the time since my last post...

I think I miss blogging in a weird way - I don't necessarily think about it when I'm not working on it, but I know my life is just a little happier when I'm taking advantage of this great creative outlet.

I recently happily discovered this blog where a fellow alum of my University is chronicling one year of her life.  I don't know what she'll do on her next birthday, but I seriously hope she'll continue.  Everything I've read so far is delightful, and she has inspired me to do the same with my 28th year.  I've heard that each decade's -9 year is the most difficult, but I have a sneaking suspicion that 28 may not be my favorite, just because of the fact that my worst years have generally been the even ones.

All that to say, making a point to write once a day will only make it better, no matter how it turns out.

I'd been tossing this adea around in my head, and looking forward to starting on December 8th, when I saw that another friend was starting a November writing challenge - not NaNoWriMo, which I have never tried to conquer - just a simple topic each day, all except one of which looked like they would be fun to write about.  Since I'm starting on November 2nd, I figured I'd just leave out the one that seemed less-than-pleasant to me...

Theoretically, there's a topic for each day of November, but I decided, rather than following the pattern (because really, when have I ever done that well), I'll just write each topic on a slip of paper and draw one topic a day.

So I've got that going for November, but then I have 7 intervening days before my birthday.

What to do, what to do?

Friends, I have 10 drafts sitting in this entire blog, three of which were never really intended for publication anyway.  What's 10 minus three?

*DING* *DING* *DING* *DING* *DING*

It's SEVEN!

So, you can now look forward to hearing from me every day until New Year's Eve, 2016.

Bah!  We all know that's a lie - I'll fail and skip days in there somewhere, but if there's one thing I've learned from past resolutions, it's how to dust myself off and pick up where I left off instead of just sweeping the whole idea under a rug.

Here's hoping you'll join me on this little adventure!

The One About Motives

There's a pretty strong theme in the scriptures, and in the Christian faith in general, of checking your motives.  The Bible talks frequently about how God searches the heart, and judges by that, rather than the outer appearance.

There's a pretty strong theme in my life too - checking my motives too much.  Many times, I just don't make a decision I should make, for fear of making it based on the wrong motives, regardless of what might be considered right or wrong.

Should I be friends with this person I just met? Well, what are my motives?  Am I selfishly seeking a friendship for proximity to others, or social standing, or solid style advice?  Or am I selflessly seeking a friendship to be an encouragement to others, or to help somebody learn helpful life skills (knitting and efficient dishwasher-loading seem to be my areas of expertise, in case you were wondering), or to share this love that has been shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Spirit?

Should I post this picture?  Well, what are my motives?  Am I selfishly posting this picture to get people to notice how cool my life is?  Or am I selflessly posting it to spread a little more love and light (and coffee, if we're honest here) in the world?

Well, Es.  How about you stop questioning so much, and just DO THE THING.
Ultimately, it doesn't matter whether you're doing it for the "right" reasons or not, befriending someone is always the right thing to do.
And, as far as pictures go, I can't think of a reason to ever not spread beauty in this world.  We always need more light.

Should I pick up this hitch-hiker?

Bet you didn't think this post would go there, did you?

The fact is, more often than not, what stops me from picking up random people on the road is not the fact that my responsible safety-conscious parents drilled it into my head that I should not pick up strangers on the road when I was first learning to drive.  It really usually just ends up being a question of motives, and, by the time I've finished questioning my motives, I'm five miles past the hitch-hiker, and it's not really a question at all anymore, unless I'm not late to anything (which is never, in case you were wondering)...

This past weekend, on my way to Austin for a lunch date that I was barely going to be on time for, I saw a man on the side of the road, standing in the rain, holding out his thumb.  He was an older black man with a short thick mop of graying curly hair.  He smiled, looking open and friendly as we drove past, the whole train of us stuck behind that one 18-wheeler going 10 miles below the speed limit.

I was the caboose of that train, and I felt an overwhelming urge to stop when I noticed the hope in his eyes, even as I, the very last car, drove past.  He looked like such a kind man, I thought.  But did I stop?

No. I didn't.  I began questioning my motives, because, evidently, that's what I do best.

I looked in my rear-view mirror and watched him slowly put his arm down by his side and drop his shoulders in what looked like utter defeat.  But did I turn around?  No.

Instead, I questioned myself further.

Y'all.  The man needed a ride, and I didn't give him one, because I was busy trying to decide if I was going to do it for the right reasons.  I'm pretty sure it didn't ultimately matter what my reasons were. I ignored the urging of the Holy Spirit, choosing instead to have a fruitless conversation with myself.

Then, on my way home from work tonight, I saw this lady huffing and puffing up one of the biggest hills in town, and thought to myself, as I really often do, "I should give her a ride."

And you know what I did?

I questioned my motives - am I only thinking of offering her a ride in some confused effort at redeeming myself from a bad decision made this weekend?

I bet you thought I gave her a ride immediately, huh?  No.  I'm not that great.  But I did catch myself - I thought, you know what?  I can keep doing this all day, or I can just listen to the Spirit in me, waiting to speak.  So I stopped, literally at a stop sign, and figuratively in my heart, and I listened.  A second later, I was rolling down the window and asking her if she needed a ride.  She did, and she hustled over to my passenger side.

You know, I really wish, for my sake, more than anything, that I could say it was the best experience ever - that I got to share Jesus, and help her feel better about life, and any number of other good things.

But, really, she just sat there, listening to Andy Grammer on my radio and enjoying my air conditioning, and we chatted a little bit about the weather, and how cute her little neighborhood was.  Then she got out, and I noticed that my car smelled like cigarette smoke, which invariably gives me a headache.  So, no, it definitely wasn't a glowing experience, but at least I finally just took action when it needed to be taken, instead of trying to figure out what my motives were for said action.

This is by no means a call to pick up every random person on the side of the road, or a call to start making rash decisions, but rather an invitation to believers to embrace the freedom of listening to the Holy Spirit inside of you rather than drowning Him out with your own arguments and opinions.

Sometimes you just need to do the thing, regardless of why you're doing it.

The Crunchy Chronicles Continue

Evidently, despite my supposed problem with making resolutions, February has become my "big hygiene changes" month.

Last year, it was starting oil cleansing, and trying no-poo again.

The oil cleansing is still showing incredible results, and I could not be more thrilled with it, a little over a year later. I don't think I'll ever buy another bottle of face wash again.

The no-poo, however? Not so much.  I LOVED it for quite a while, but was never able to find a satisfactory way to deep condition my ends, and I knew they needed more than just apple cider vinegar to be healthy.  By August, I'd really begun to feel like my hair was in trouble - the ends were incredibly dry, despite the fact that I had even caved and begun using a commercial deep conditioner.  The rest of it was beginning to feel rather dry and brittle as well.  I eventually just decided to return to regular shampoo and conditioner.  My hair began to feel stronger, and I went to the salon to get the ends cut off.  I told the girl to cut off whatever was needed to make it healthy again, and she held up about three and a half inches and asked if I was okay with that much coming off.  I reiterated that I wanted her to take whatever was needed, and she said if I really meant that, she'd like to take off about five inches.

Yikes!  But I said yes, because I wanted my hair healthy.  Then and there, I decided no-poo was not for me.

Whew!  Maybe I'll never have to say "poo" on my blog again!

Shortly thereafter, a friend posted this link on facebook and tagged me.  If you've done your research, you know that I was thoroughly convinced that the science behind the original no-poo (Whoops.  There it is.) article I read was legitimate, and, really, who knows, maybe it was, and that girl is still thrilled with her hair.  If so, more power to her, but the science in this latest article seemed pretty legitimate too, and also happened to be corroborated by my own experience.  If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that we all have very different needs for our skin and hair care. (Seriously, why else are there sooooooo many different options in that department at Target?)

So, I began to get stir-crazy for a different way to take care of my hair without a ton of chemicals.  Then, Baby Sister suddenly announced that she was going to go a month without using any shampoo, so she did, with lots of dry-shampoo, baby powder, and corn starch usage.  I tried it along with her, and decided I really didn't want to do that, because I still felt like I was putting a bunch of unnecessary junk in my hair.

But then I did my research, and found a whole community of people who have stopped using shampoo, and have started using... Nothing!  That's right. No shampoo, and no replacement either.  This caught my attention.
It seemed that most of these folks would use apple cider vinegar every once in a while if they "needed" it.  But none of them explained exactly what constituted that need.  Many of them also conditioned with coconut oil, and quite a few of them washed with an egg every once in a while.

Yep.  They washed their hair with eggs.  Weirdos.

But hey, I'm a weirdo too, so I decided to try it.  Y'all.  My hair is amazing.  As you know, I'm not into selfies, but I posted this picture on instagram recently because, seriously, look at that fantastic un-washed hair!

20 days with no shampoo!

Alright, so I'm sure you want to know the actual routine.  Caveat:  I didn't go into this specifically trying to simplify my routine or save money, or anything like that.  I just wanted to get unnecessary chemicals out of my life as much as I can.  So this isn't the kind of thing that is going to make life easier because you suddenly just never have to wash your hair.  I still spend basically the same amount of time in the shower.  I just don't use shampoo.  Instead, I give myself a serious scalp massage under hot water - like I probably "scrub" more than I did when I was using shampoo.  And that's it!

I tried to use apple cider vinegar, I really did, because I felt like it was necessary since so many other people said they used it when "needed."  But every time I used it, it just made my hair oily really quickly.  I do like what it does for my ends, though, so I think I may try just putting it on them.

This is really just one big experiment, and I'll hopefully be putting more updates up here about what works for me.

One thing I've discovered is really essential to make this work is a boar-bristle brush.  I brush my hair with mine every day, and it helps distribute the natural oils through my hair so they can help it stay healthy.  And I'm talking a real brush-through every evening.  This takes time!
One bonus about a boar-bristle brush is that it works really well for pulling your hair back into a tight ponytail or bun, if that's something you like to do.  It just makes my hair lay so smoothly against my head!

I've also discovered a good way to deep condition with Coconut Oil!  Every 10 days or so, or whenever my ends begin to feel a bit dry, I take a tiny tiny bit, and massage it into the ends of my hair in the evening, then bundle it all up on top of my head in a high bun, and sleep on it, then I wash my hair with an egg yolk the next morning, and it washes the coconut oil right out. Crazy, right?

The really crazy thing is that I really don't see much difference in how the roots of my hair look after just scrubbing them, and actually washing with an egg - they're equally clean both ways!

A note about washing your hair with eggs:  You certainly can wash your hair with both the yolk and white, but I've heard that this can actually leave cooked bits of egg white in your hair if you use really hot water, so I'm not about to do it.

If you're at all like me, though, and really hate the idea of wasting anything, have no fear!  You don't need to throw out that egg white.  Just put it in an air tight container, and use it as a face mask.  Seriously, just smear that plain egg white all over your face, and leave it for 10-20 minutes.  (You will feel your skin getting tight!)  Then just rinse it off with water and a rag.  Your skin will feel so soft and moisturized afterwards!  You do need to store it in the fridge, and use it pretty shortly after cracking it, because it will start to smell truly rotten if you don't watch out.  I usually can get 2 or 3 masks from a single egg yolk.

While we're on the subject of faces and not wasting things, let's also go ahead and talk about exfoliating with coffee grounds.  Y'all.  It's seriously the best thing.  I sort of forgot about it because I had a semi-traumatic experience:
The fact is, I drink way more coffee than I will ever be able to use to exfoliate my face, but when I began this particular regimen, I got really excited about the prospect of not throwing out coffee grounds, and saved all of them!  They collected in a container in my fridge, and began GROWING MOLD.  If there's anything I hate worse than not wasting things, it's mold, so out they went, and I decided this just wasn't a good idea at all.

In case you haven't figured it out yet, my life is basically a series of dramatic ups and downs...

Eventually, I realized I just had to resign myself to not using all of them, but just keeping them on-hand in small batches, and using up each small batch before I replenish them.

I've just had to learn the hard way that, when I'm using mostly natural things in my hair and body care, they're going to behave as natural things do without any preservatives - they're going to get stinky and gross if I don't use them quickly.

So, I'm sure now you're naturally wondering if, in reality, I'm stinky and gross.  Don't worry - I've wondered that myself quite frequently, because I've always heard that you don't really notice your own smell.

So, today, I did all of us a favor, and asked one of Baby Sister's friends to smell my hair.

She said it smelled like hair - not like shampoo, just like hair - but not bad either, so there!

Maybe I'll come back sometime soon and tell you about my homemade deodorant...

So There's This Mid-February Phenomenon

I have a friend who works at Starbucks, and last week, she expressed it quite nicely:
"On Friday, we'll be super busy, because everyone will be trying, up until the very last minute, to meet someone in time for Valentine's Day. And on Saturday we'll be super busy because everyone else will be treating their Valentines."

Every year, around this time, I get a little touchy.  I try not to offend people, because I totally support people who are happily in love and want to take a special day to celebrate that fact, provided they continue to celebrate that fact, perhaps in less elaborate ways, throughout the rest of their lives...

But, y'all, this problem of people having a freak-out or getting super down in the dumps because they don't have a "Valentine" is so troublesome to me. Let's just pause and think through the idea of a "Valentine" - he's actually a person.  Did you know that? I don't know a ton about him, but I do think I remember hearing that he performed marriages for people in the Roman army, who were technically forbidden to marry, which is, you know, incredibly romantic and all.

BUT the holiday bearing his name was not romanticized until Chaucer got a hold of it and made it a generalized celebration of romantic love.

You know what else Chaucer helped to generalize?

Yep, the fart joke.

If that doesn't help you understand my opinion of Chaucer, you don't know me very well.

To be fair to both Chaucer and Valentine, I don't think either of them really meant for people to get so incredibly sad about their lives on this day, but it is an unfortunate side effect of our Disney-saturated, Chick-Flick-watching, Diamon-ring-advertising, First-kiss-idolizing culture.

Believe me, I'm just as subject to this culture as anyone else. In searching through my February archives, I found this gem, and I have a feeling that some of that emotional instability I was feeling may have stemmed from the surplus of romantic imagery and themes that inundates advertisements and every corner of our little world during this time of year.

It's just basically unavoidable, and really, who am I (or any of us single people who all feel a bit of "poor me" this time of year if we're honest with ourselves) to take this day away from the lovers? So what we really need to work on isn't changing, or even "boycotting" Valentine's Day (as much as I am tempted to, some years), but investing in the people that we love on this day and always.  Whether they're technically a "Valentine" or not, is really beside the point.

You know who I love?  Baby Sister. Poor thing.  She's gonna be Baby Sister even when she's old and gray...

So, I took her to a concert of her favorite musician this Valentine's weekend, and we stayed the night with an extremely motivated writer friend of mine, who inspired both of us to start writing more.

We drove up to Dallas together, and got turned around more than once, because that's the way I travel - some GPS, mostly I-know-better-than-that-machine... She may or may not have thought I was about to drive off a cliff at one point, and also may or may not have been pretty close to correct.

She made us a road-trip cd, which was missing 5 songs, mysteriously, and gave us a good chance to listen to other music we both love.

We got to the concert early, and had 45 minutes to waste running around the cutest downtown you ever did see in Wylie, TX. (So many places were open, even after 8!)

We made some new friends in this little combination Coffe Bar and Antique Shop.  And, wouldn't you know, they were camp people too, so we had lots to talk about.  Of course they were there for the concert too, so we stood together.

After getting to my friend's house way too late at night, we went to bed and woke up to a homemade breakfast and 20 acres of woods, just begging to be explored.

Do you see what I'm saying? I refused to be quietly down in the dumps, and also to loudly protest.  I simply made memories with someone I love on a Saturday that could have been any Saturday, but happened to be February 14th.

I think this may have been the first time I got Valentine's Day right.

What's in My Bag, aka I Want a Diaper Bag SO Bad Right Now

When I became a nanny, I had no idea how difficult it would be to find a bag that would suit my needs.

Frequently, I go straight from work to run errands, or to exercise class, or to Bible Study, depending on the day, so carrying everything I need, plus the things I need for the kiddos has become quite the challenge.  And it only gets harder in the summer when we head to the splash pad, etc...

I started off with backpacks, but, y'all, I may be willing to wear shorts, t-shirts, and ball caps all day for work, but carrying a backpack on top of all that?  I honestly felt like I was 12, and probably looked like it too, thanks to my great non-aging genes, which I'm sure I'll be grateful for when I'm 50 or something...

So it became necessary to carry something a little more mature.  Plus, I realize it may murder my back, but I've always loved over-the-shoulder bags more, simply because they can be accessed without ever taking them off - just pull out the sippy cup and voila, you never even had to stop walking - look at me being all practical!

I found this Fossil bag, which I can't complain about, because I know it will serve me well for many years, and I scored it at the outlet for only thirty-something bucks, but it's better for carrying around a lap-top and a few books than all the things I need with the kids.

Sometime after I found this bag, I discovered Lily Jade, and immediately began jonesing over their beautiful and practical Caroline.  I mean, goodness gracious, the thing is red, not to mention exactly my style.

You can imagine when Lily Jade announced that I could make a blog post and be entered in a giveaway, I was all for it, so here you go - What's in my bag:



Notebooks of all kinds (planner, meal-tracker, sketchbook, you get the idea), and usually a few letters to reply to or a knitting project to catch up on in case I get the chance during nap or something. (Doesn't really ever happen, in case you were wondering, but a girl can hope, right?)

Tissues and Lotion for me, wipes for the kids in case of ice cream stickiness and what-not.

Honestly, there are usually way more kid's meal toys floating around in my bag than just those three, but most of them are in the back seat of my car right now along with last week's potato chip crumbs and fruit roll-up wrappers...

Anybody who knows me much at all, knows that I always have more pens than any one person has good use for, and it seems that I either have zero lip balm/gloss, or a ton.

I've learned that it's best to keep a smaller bag in my big one, packed with "purse essentials," (phone, keys, wallet, glasses, more pens and lip balm) so if I'm going straight somewhere after work, I can just throw the big bag in back of my car and carry my valuables around with me.

I also usually have a sippy cup or two, a water bottle if the big boy is with us, a special blanket, a diaper, and the toy of the moment (the size of which I heavily regulate). But I leave those things at work for obvious reasons, and this photo was taken at home.

Imagine adding all of those things, plus my water bottle, to this:

Yeah, I need a diaper bag.

Never thought I'd say that at this point in my life, but I guess you never know where you'll be...

How's the No-Sugar thing going, you ask?

Well, its up and down.

Actually, it's definitely not a no-sugar thing anymore.
It's more a general-life-adjustment-dragged-out-over-a-much-longer-time-than-just-a-year.

I learned a few very valuable lessons from the earlier part of this year.  That no-shopping resolution in 2013?  I had no idea at the time, or even until half-way through this year, that it really wasn't me keeping that resolution.  That was the Spirit of the Lord inside of me, keeping me from spending money I would need so desperately at the end of that year, when I took the most giant, terrifying fall of faith (because it wasn't anything near as elegant or smooth as a leap).

It really was no surprise to me when I learned that I was just going to continue to fail at this self-control thing I thought I had mastered.  I should have known myself better than that.

For a while I sat in a corner and pouted because I was embarrassed by this huge proclamation I'd made to the world that I was going to be this awesome, totally put-together girl, who was going to do exactly what she said she would, because she was strong enough.

After pouting for a while, though, I realized that it's okay to fail, and we all go around proclaiming that we're cooler, stronger, wiser, more in control than we actually are.  The plain truth is that we aren't strong enough alone.  The Lord had a reason to help me with my 2013 resolution.  My 2014 resolution came from a deep-seated place of pride in my heart, and needed to be broken for so, so many reasons.

I made a decision when I started this blog, that I was never going to delete anything I wrote on it, no matter how much I may hate returning to those things.  So, as much as I hate to return to that incredibly prideful post from this January, it's staying, simply to remind me of what I've learned.

I did make a valiant effort to keep that resolution for the first few months, and, who knows?  I may eventually be able to transition to a life-style without processed sugar.  I would be so happy to do that one of these days, but I'm putting no prideful, legalistic time-limits on it this time around.

In fact, I'm slowly collecting recipes I come across that will be helpful when that time does arrive, because I do intend to do it one of these days.  Now is not that time, though.

An interesting side-effect has arisen from that failed resolution, though.  I've established a few significant, chemical-free habits, like my new hair and face washing routines.  I've also experimented with Oil Pulling, and been pleasantly surprised.  I still haven't fully converted to that from brushing my teeth, but I am so close to it.

I've also discovered that I like Agave nectar in my coffee better than sugar.  Definitely a surprise, but certainly a pleasant one.  So, I guess it wasn't completely a bust?

How Do I Look?

Right now, I'm wearing really mis-matched work-out clothes (complete with blue and orange argyle socks, and two different shades of lime green).  I feel gross and sweaty.  I also feel great, because I just finished a good workout.
You won't see me post a picture of myself in this state anywhere on social media.

This weekend, on Saturday, I was wearing a fantastic dress my mom made for herself shortly after she married my Dad.  I had the perfect jewelry to complement it.  I felt like a million bucks, as they say.
You didn't see me post a picture of myself in that state anywhere on social media either.

While I do post a lot, and I mean a LOT, of pictures of the world around me, I post "selfies" very rarely.  In fact, I used to joke about posting an "annual selfie."
I also rarely post pictures of myself in general - "group selfies," so to speak.

A friend recently shared this link on Facebook, and it resonated with me.

I don't know anything about this girl, or if I would agree with anything else she's ever said, but my heart responded to "I guess this is human nature to give feedback on our appearances..." and "Easiest way to [cater to the Facebook algorithm]?  Share pictures of my face, body and things based on my appearance."

I immediately knew she was right.  Despite the infrequency of selfies I post, I have noticed that I get considerably more likes on them than almost anything else I post.  This alone has been disturbing to me, so I decided to do a little research on my own Facebook profile:

Since March, the average amount of likes on any picture that I've posted, which features my face, body, and/or things based on my appearance is 19.
The average amount of likes on any other picture I've posted is 10.

There is something wrong with this.

I've never been sure how to put my thoughts on selfies into words, but this experience helped me to process through some of them at least.

I haven't struggled much at all with insecurity about my appearance, and I am so so so thankful for that.
I am just as affected by "likes" on my pictures as is the next person.  I'm not proud of that.
I find myself obsessively checking to see if anyone has liked the latest thing I posted, and I also find myself obsessively making every picture of anything "perfect" so as to appeal to the most people.

Let's just be honest, maybe there are a few people in the world who don't make their selfies "perfect" before posting them, but in reality, most of those nonchalant look-at-me-all-sweaty-and-smiling-after-a-great-workout pictures were taken from something like 12 slightly different angles and sent through at least 5 different filters before they were posted.  And the same goes for the perfectly posed look-at-me-all-gussied-up-and-celebrating-my-friend's-birthday pictures.

You guys!  If I analyzed pictures of myself as much as I analyze my other pictures, or even as much as other people presumably analyze their selfies, I'd go insane, and probably start having all those insecurities I just established that I am grateful to live without.

No thanks. I'd prefer not to open Pandora's Box.

It is indeed human nature to give feedback on our appearances, and I think (hope?) maybe a lot of the likes on selfies are simply an acknowledgement of bravery, because it is seriously brave to post a close-up picture of yourself on the internet for everyone to see, regardless of how many re-takes you took.

But we are so so so much more than just what we look like, and I personally kinda like who I actually am outside of my appearance.  I also kinda hate the idea of people deriving their worth from how much other people like the way they look.  I try to be careful about what I "like" from people, and what I complement them on in real life.  Yeah, I tell people when they look beautiful, or that I like their clothes, but I try to also tell them how beautiful their heart is, or how much I love the way they smile at strangers on the street.

Personally, I don't want to be known for how I look, but for how I look at the world around me.

A Tale of Three Tires

I have never been the kind of girl who is particularly comfortable with car maintenance, so, from the time that I knew my car needed new tires, it was at least a month, if not two months, as well as at least 4 phone calls to my dad, before I got it into the tire shop.

I'm sort of embarrassed to admit this, but I also pulled into the parking lot and sat in my car for about ten minutes, observing my surroundings, then left, at least twice before deciding to brave it.

I'm sure part if this has to do with the fact that I had really just gotten comfortable with my other mechanics before I decided to up and move, and now, here I was at a new place, and feeling very small and gullible, and insignificant.

However, I did finally make it into the tire shop one lovely friday.  I came in very confident, asked all the right questions, had a super-helpful-customer-service-guy assist me, and got my car in to replace the rear tires.

The paper-work at the end of my visit was a breeze, and I left feeling totally confident and much better about vehicle maintenance in the future.

Then, on the following Tuesday, I got into my car, and it gave me a low pressure warning for one of my tires.  I got out, checked on them, and found the culprit - the right rear tire - it was at 20 psi, while my tires were all supposed to be at 35 psi.  I assumed that the folks at the tire shop would have aired up the tires to the proper pressure when they first installed them, so there could be no reason the pressure in this one would be this low already, except that there was a problem of some sort.

Basking in my new-found confidence, I immediately called the tire shop, and explained the situation (including the fact that I had just purchased the tires) to the guy who answered the phone.  he said something along the lines of "No.  There shouldn't be any problems.  You can just take it anywhere and air up the tires, then keep an eye on them; but if you really want to, I guess you can come in and we'll air it up for you."

That was not exactly the answer I was looking for...

So, of course, I called my dad and asked him what he thought I should do.  I also mentioned a squeaky sound I'd been hearing, and he recommended I take it in and have them look at the tires and the belt.

So, of course, that's just what I did...

I walked in, and, when it was my turn (they were pretty busy) I began to explain my situation to the-man-at-the-counter.  He literally interrupted me mid-sentence and said "Are you the one that called earlier?" COMPLETE WITH AN EYE ROLL.

I maintained composure and said "Yes" in my sweetest voice, adding that there was also a squeaky belt I would love for them to look at if they had the time.

He said "Yeah, sure, just pull your car around to the back of that bay right there." Then turned to the next person in line and began talking to them.

That was that.  I was not very appreciative of his idea of customer service, and wished very much for super-helpful-customer-service-guy to come to my rescue.

There was nothing for me to do but pull my car around to where he had indicated, so I did, and waited, since I had received no further instructions.  After about 5 minutes of waiting, and being approached by absolutely no one, I went back into the tire shop, and waited in line for my turn.

When I got up to the counter, I said "Hi.  I pulled my car up, and didn't know what to do next."
He interrupted me again with "Just wait a minute," and again turned to the next customer in line.

At this point, I was beginning to feel very much not valued in this place, but I stepped to the side, and waited patiently.

A moment later, a man poked his head in the door and asked the-man-at-the-counter if he could help out in any way.  The-man-at-the-counter (looking very relieved) said "Yes!  Just go check the pressure in her tires over there," waving his hand in the general direction of my car.  The other man headed out the door, and I began to add that there was a squeaky belt situation, but he was already beyond ear-shot.  The-man-at-the-counter added, in a normal tone (without bothering to open, or even turn toward the door through which the other man was already completely gone) "Oh yeah, and check on her belt."  He completed this incredibly unhelpful addendum with a shake of his head, as if to indicate that I was being utterly ridiculous and demanding...

At this point, I may or may not have just stormed out of the door to take matters into my own hands, since the-man-at-the-counter was apparently not at all interested in actually being helpful to his customers.

I was so upset, I literally had to stop outside the door to compose myself before going around to the bay.

Fortunately the man who had offered to help was much more kind and helpful.  He even checked all of my tires to make sure they were at a uniform pressure, and was happy to look at the belt when I told him about it.

Of course, the belt didn't make a noise when I turned the car on for him, and fortunately it hasn't made a sound since.

The tire, on the other hand, was an entirely different story.

The real reason I had finally decided to get the new tires was because I was about to do a whole lot of driving: the following weekend, I home based at Camp Tejas (staying in a beautiful, newly re-modeled motel room, by the way), and travelled to Austin for a wedding on Friday, then to San Antonio for a graduation on Saturday.

Well, Friday was lovely, and Saturday was lovely, until we were leaving the graduation.  No sooner had I gotten settled into the far left lane of traffic on the San Antonio loop, than I suddenly saw the truck in the lane on my right run over something and send it toward my car.  I had no time to react, and before I knew it, I definitely had a flat on my right rear tire.

I'm truly thankful for three things:

1. It wasn't a blow-out
2. I was able to maintain my composure as I pulled across all three lanes of traffic, into the shoulder, and off onto a road which looked little-used
3. Sarah's boyfriend was in the car, and was able to help us with changing the tire

Also, Baby Sister (who's learning to drive) and another friend of hers who is also learning to drive were in the car, so we got to have a little tire-changing lesson, which was fun, apparently...

As Sarah's boyfriend was putting on the spare, Sarah and I inspected the damage.

There was a good-sized gash in the side-wall, where, presumably whatever-it-was had just hit the tire.  And, wouldn't you know, there was also a screw imbedded in the tread of that tire.  As you may recall, this was the tire that was lower than all my other new tires, and which the tire shop so begrudgingly aired up for me, without inspecting it at all...

Once we were set with the spare, which was in desperate need of some air, we hobbled to the nearest gas station for air, and onward to the nearest branch of my tire store, which was actually something like the swankier, higher-end version, owned by the same corporation.

At this point, I was (understandably?) more than a little upset, and stormed into the store with slightly less confidence than last time, and much more need to feel vindicated.

I was almost immediately greeted kindly by a man behind a counter.  Before he even greeted me, though, I noticed three things:

1. This store smelled nice
2. People smiled here
3. There was prominent signage indicating everything you could need while you were waiting for your car

I began explaining our situation to the kind man behind the counter, perhaps too eagerly, as he kept calmly asking me to wait until his computer could catch up with the information I was giving him.

The tire was, unfortunately, clearly beyond repair, and was definitely going to have to be replaced.  The first thing he said to me when we realized this was, "It appears that you did not purchase a warranty on this tire..."

You guys.  My jaw probably hit the floor, and this is why:

Back when I was originally purchasing the tires, during the "breezy" paper-work process at the end, I had paused to question a section where the super-helpful-customer-service-guy asked for my initials.  I don't remember what it said, but I distinctly remember asking him something along the lines of "This says something about discussing a warranty with you, and I don't remember doing that..." and him responding with something like "Oh, that isn't really related to your purchase today."

Turns out, I had initialed a spot that said that I had been given paper-work regarding a warranty, and made an informed decision not to purchase it, when really, none of that had happened, and I certainly would have purchased that warranty if given the chance.

That warranty being an eleven dollar purchase that meant they would cover the entire cost of a new tire if mine was damaged as a result of road hazards.

Yes.  You read that right.  No wonder they weren't particularly interested in selling it to me.  You can imagine my thoughts at this moment were not particularly kind toward previously-considered-super-helpful-customer-service-guy.

Well, the current, kind man behind the counter gave me one look, without actually hearing any of that story, and said he would cover the cost of a new tire for me, just because.

I'd like to think this was because I looked like a customer-demanding-vindication-for-wrong-doing, but Sarah's boyfriend said it was because the kind man behind the counter had a crush on me...

Either way, I felt a little bit better about my life, and made sure I got a warranty on my new right rear tire.

And friends, the saga continues...

The first chance I got after coming back into town, I went to my tire store to demand nicely ask that they warranty my tires as atonement for their past wrong-doing since there had been some sort of glitch in the process of informing me about the warranty at the time of my original purchase.

I hope you guys believe me that I really was on my best behavior in the tire shop, regardless of how really indignant I was on the inside.  I'm a Southern girl.  We don't lose our cool in public...

Anyway, I went in, and who should be inside but previously-considered-super-helpful-customer-service-guy and the-man-at-the-counter?  Yes.  They were both right there.

The-man-at-the-counter was apparently busy, so previously-considered-super-helpful-customer-service-guy, who seemed to not remember me, asked how he could help.  I began to tell the nicest version of my story that was possible while not excluding any important details (including the screw in the tire), ending with the request to go ahead and have a warranty for the tire, which I had already driven around for a week and a half or so.

At about the point in my story where I came back with low pressure in one of my tires, the-man-behind-the-counter began edging toward us, evidently remembering me.

Next thing I know, previously-considered-super-helpful-customer-service-guy turns to the-man-behind-the-counter and asks if it's possible to do what I'm asking.  And before previously-considered-super-helpful-customer-service-guy is even done with his question, the-man-behind-the-counter says "Of course we will.  I am so sorry that happened, ma'am."

You guys.  The-man-behind-the-counter was the manager of this store.  The MANAGER!

I'm telling you, it was all I could do to keep a straight face.

I mean, what?

He promptly took over the conversation and was SO polite and helpful, but, by this point, I was totally over everything about this store.  Of course, I was polite in return, and gave positive one-word-answers to his attempted small-talk instead of glaring daggers, but, really, I was truly done.

When he was almost done processing the warranty, he started telling me excitedly that they were soon upgrading to a store like the one I went to in San Antonio, and by the time I needed my next tires, the upgrade would be finished.

Guys, I'm super ashamed of this, but my first thought was "Well, I hope they'll upgrade the management too!"

Of course, being a sweet, Southern girl, I gave him two true words - "That's wonderful!"

Well, if the upgrade is indeed done by then, maybe I'll give them a second chance...

Going Crunchy

Back in early February, or maybe even late January, a friend posted this link on facebook, and I decided to check it out.

A few years ago, my mom started to follow the "no-poo" method of washing her hair, and seemed quite satisfied with it.  I, on the other hand, was not.  I tried it as a way of being supportive, but I just could not stand the way my hair felt while I was washing it.  I've always felt the need to have my shampoo lather dramatically in order to feel like my hair is really clean.

Turns out, this link was a new method of doing the same thing - washing your hair with baking soda and conditioning with apple cider vinegar - which looked like it might actually work for me...

Wait, what?
Did I just say that washing my hair with baking soda and conditioning with apple cider vinegar might work for me?

Either I was turning into a crazy person, or her way of presenting evidence was actually convincing.
Seriously.  You should go check out what she said, because I'm not about to try to one-up her by explaining it all again.

Also, while I was busy being convinced about natural hair care, I decided I might as well jump into the natural skin care world as well, so I clicked on her "beauty" tag and found this.

I was immediately interested in the idea of exfoliating with coffee grounds, since I've always felt like there must be something else to do with them other than just throwing them away after one use.

One thing led to another, and I wound up devoting almost an entire day to looking into natural skin care ideas, especially the one known as "Oil Cleansing."

Again, I'm not going to go into the whys and wherefores and with whats of oil cleansing, because so many people have already done that before me.  What I will tell you about is my own process with the natural hair and skin care I have settled on, and how those decisions have affected my body.  If you're interested in more info, I found quite a few things which appeared reputable (and more which did not, of course) by googling and pinterest...ing.

Two disclaimers before we really get going on this discussion:

1)  Throughout the whole process, I kept coming across people describing themselves and their lifestyle as "crunchy."
I eventually went and looked it up on Urban Dictionary.  While I would not, by any means, call myself "crunchy" to the same extent as most of those other folks, I do have a bit of that back-to-basics attitude built into my personality, and I welcome any chance to work something less processed and more natural into my life.
Also?  It just made me laugh, because, when Baby Sister was small, she said "crunchy" instead of "country."  Ever since then, I've loved the word.

2)  I am not advocating anything that particular girl I've linked to has to say in general.  I don't follow her blog or anything, but I do feel like what she had to say about natural hair and skin care was spot on (not to mention easy and entertaining to read), so I've linked to those posts.

When I first read her baking soda and apple cider vinegar method, it really resonated with me for some reason, and I just knew it was going to work.  Don't ask me how.  I just knew.

And boy, was I right.

You guys!  Let's talk about my hair before this change.  I've always had slightly thin, pretty oily hair with some texture.  I've never dyed or permed my hair, nor do I use a large amount of products in it.  (In fact, I probably use hairspray an average of once every six or eight months).  I've tried quite a few products over the years - mostly ones that say they'll "add volume"- but I never can seem to get any of them to do what they say they're going to do.  I've used the same treatment on my ends since I was 16 or so, and have no interest in ever doing anything different, but I was never able to find any other product that I was interested in using consistently.  I even flitted around to different shampoos very regularly, never settling on one favorite.

I've always had a love-hate relationship with my hair's texture.  It just wasn't consistent - generally coarser and wavier on one side, and limp on the other.  Also, it tended to curl out on my right side, and in on my left.  I place a very high value on symmetry and consistency, so this incongruity threw me off all the time.

Then, when I started this baking soda and apple cider vinegar method, all of that went out the door.  I had no idea how much natural body and uniformity my hair could have without all the gunk from shampoos and conditioners full of extra chemicals.

Now, I'm not saying that I naturally look like a southern beauty queen every morning.
In the first place, I'm not blonde...

But really?  I'm in love with my hair lately.  I would venture to say that I haven't had a bad hair day since February.  My hair is fuller than it has ever been, and the texture is so even!  Also, it just obeys me better in general.  I'm happy, and don't intend to change anything any time soon.

The thing I'm still trying to figure out is the deep conditioning with coconut oil.  I think last time around was my first "good" turnout.  But only "good," not "excellent" or anything.  I took a teeny amount (like maybe a teaspoon and a half) and just put it on the ends, then washed with regular shampoo and conditioner.  I'm not in love with that, though, because I feel like my hair misbehaves whenever I wash it with that stuff now.  It seems, though, that theres no other way to get coconut oil out of hair.

That's the only thing I'm not entirely satisfied with about this baking soda and apple cider vinegar thing - it sort of dries my hair out on the ends so that it does need a deep condition at least once a month.  Other than that, though, I couldn't be happier.  In fact, I'm so happy with how my hair dries naturally, I rarely even blow-dry it anymore.  It's incredibly low-maintenance!

***UPDATE - I eventually became very unsatisfied with how dry my hair was after months of this method.  My current hair routine can be found here.

Now, about that oil cleansing I started.  It's been quite the journey, and not nearly as simple as the hair care.

I really started it on a whim.  The very day that I did all that research, I got a bottle of castor oil and one of jojoba oil, as that was what I'd seen touted as good for sufferers of acne.  I started out with equal parts castor and jojoba, knowing full well that it was probably too strong (castor oil is very drying), but wanting to find my own blend.

The first night and following day, I loved it!  I discovered, about a week in, that I needed to increase to two parts Jojoba and one Castor Oil, because i was drying out my skin more than I would have liked it to.  It's kind of crazy to think of oil as drying, huh?  But it sure can be.

My process was as follows:

1. Wet my face with warm water
2. Pour a quarter sized drop of the oil blend in my palm
3. Rub my palms together
4. Massage the oil into my entire face (sidenote:  It doubles as an excellent make-up remover, so no need to do that first!)
5. Wet a washcloth with HOT water so that it will steam, wring it out, and lay it over my face 2 or 3 times in a row. DON'T BURN YOURSELF!
6. Wash oil off with rag and warm water

This whole process is so luxurious with the steam and the smooth oil, and it leaves my skin feeling super soft and moisturized - not at all oily like you would imagine.  I know it seems intimidating, and possibly gross, at first, but I would recommend it to anyone!  Also, it's kind of a long process, but the good news is you only have to do it once a day (some people do it even less than that, but I think once a day is best for me).

It's the perfect relaxing night-time ritual.  In the morning, I just get up, put on a little moisturizer, and sometimes makeup, and I'm ready to go!

Everything that I read said things would get worse before they got better but my skin was immediately better than it had ever been before!  I'm not a terrible sufferer of acne.  I'd say mine is mild to medium, and I've never considered taking medication or anything, but I'd be lying if I said having it consistently from my teens into my mid-to-late twenties hasn't been pretty discouraging.  So, to find something this simple that actually worked was beyond exciting.  I even had friends and family making comments about how fantastic my skin was looking.

I think I went through a little honeymoon phase, then reality hit:
Jojoba oil is not cheap.  It's not necessarily expensive, but it is not, by any means, cheap.  So, when I ran out of my bottle of jojoba, I decided to try sweet almond oil, which I had seen listed as a substitute for people who are allergic to jojoba.  It was literally less than half the price, so I thought I had hit the jack-pot.

*Spoiler Alert*  I had not, in fact hit anything like a jack-pot.

As soon as I started using the sweet almond oil, my skin went back to it's original condition, if not getting a little worse.  Also? Sweet almond oil smells strange - not sweet - almost bitter, actually.

I gave sweet almond the benefit of the doubt, and decided to use up the bottle, then see if I needed to switch back to Jojoba - maybe my skin was reacting to the change, and would straighten out (hopefully sooner, rather than later).

Well, sooner and later both came, and no dice.  My skin was still breaking out pretty consistently.  I wasn't to the end of the bottle, but I had HAD IT with this stuff.

Finally, yesterday, I went into my local natural foods store, and...

THEY DIDN'T HAVE ANY JOJOBA OIL!

I may or may not have acted like a 14-year-old drama queen, but they took my name and phone number so they could notify me as soon as the shipment comes in.

Now you may all proceed to wait expectantly on your tip-toes with me.

SO, verdict is:  I love oil cleansing, but only with a very specific blend of oils.

Strangely enough, Baby Sister (who tried it right along with me, like a doll) found that she liked sweet almond better...