Try it, you might like it

I don't generally do blogs about products, but I feel compelled to write this one.

As I have mentioned, I have incredibly terrible eczema and wash my hands neurotically (which exacerbates it).

My sweet boy Gavin inherited this lovely skin disease from me as well.  His is worse than mine because it breaks out all over his little body (whereas mine is pretty much limited to my hands, ears, and eyelids).  

Anyway, I have been seeing doctors and dermatologists and buying lotions and creams and cortisone and filling endless prescriptions for years now.  I can keep mine mostly under control if I follow a strict regimen of creams and lotions, etc....except my hands.  They just crack and bleed and hurt constantly.

I took to putting my prescription and lotion on at work and then wearing a latex glove over that hand to keep it from wiping off.  My coworkers thought I was crazy, and it didn't work.  Still cracked.  Still very painful.

Gavin's stays under control as long as I can coax him to let me bathe him in lotion and cortisone at least twice a day.  I'm not sure if you've ever tried to convince a two year old to sit still for any amount of time twice a day, but good luck.

Anyway, I had pretty much convinced myself I was doomed to cracked hands and wrestling my toddler for the rest of forever.

A couple of weeks ago, I finished studying and pulled my headphones (I wear my headphones for the gun range when I study) off my head to Jimmy grabbing the remote and saying animatedly, "You need to watch this!"

"This" was an episode of Shark Tank he had recorded while I studied.  On it was a woman who had spent much of her childhood fighting eczema.  At the age of 11, she figured out a formula to a sugar scrub that rid her of her skin problems.  She had formed a company (Simple Sugars) to sell the scrubs and needed an investment, etc., etc.

The girl was very likeable (spell check tells me it's "likable" but that looks wrong, so I persist) and convincing, and when she stated the price of her products, I immediately went to my laptop and searched out her site.  (Um, they're very reasonably priced).

I placed my order and waited for it to arrive.  After a week or so I got my package in the mail.  Since it is a small business and had just appeared on Shark Tank, I was pleasantly surprised that the product arrived so quickly.

I had ordered a body scrub with the addition of emu oil, a facial scrub, and a foot scrub.  I read the instructions and the packaging said the products are gentle enough to use every day.

So, I began using them once a day.

I gave Gavin a bath and did my best to use the body scrub on him that night.  You're supposed to "scrub" it until it dissolves.  Well, of course that wasn't happening.  So, I just did the best I could to get it rubbed on all of his rough patches of skin, rinsed, and patted him dry.

The next morning, his eczema was gone.  Completely gone.  ALL. OF. IT.  It has been a week now, and it has not returned.

My hands?  Absolutely no cracking or bleeding.  I have made a point to only use the scrubs and none of my prescribed or previously purchased products during this time in order to see how well the scrubs work.

The face scrub leaves my face feeling baby soft (maybe even softer than Viv's...I'm just saying), and the foot scrub leaves my feet feeling like I just got a pedicure...like literally just got out of the chair.  This is not after several uses; it's the very first time.  The scents I ordered smell incredible (strawberry for the face scrub and green apple for the body scrub).  

My people are getting this stuff for Christmas, y'all.

Now, the site (and the owner) does not claim that the product will cure skin diseases.  There is no guarantee.  All I can tell you is that these products worked for me and Gavin, and they are well worth the minimal price even if you don't have a skin disease you're looking to annihilate.  

If you'd like to check out the website, it is here :http://www.simplesugarsscrub.com/

How's it going?

I'm not sure how I have time to blog.  I'm not sure how I get to go home tonight and not bury myself in a textbook or a discussion forum or a writing assignment.  I'm not going to question it.  I'm just going to revel in my 24 hours of "freedom."

There is something incredible about learning again.  I didn't realize how much I missed going to school.  I'm having to sweep the cobwebs out of my brain and Google things like "MLA formatting" which was once an everyday part of my life.

I think this is a good time in life for me to have gone back to school.  I remember hardly ever doing my assigned readings in college.  I'd attend the lectures and write my papers and take my tests.  But for grad school, I am reading everything.  And then if the discussion topic still makes no sense to me (as often it does not) I go in search of outside material.  I want to actually learn everything I can from this opportunity.

When I finish reading my assigned readings for the night, often I'll engage Jimmy in a debate about whatever our topic is in class.  He and I have different views on all manner of things, and he is incredibly knowledgeable, and he loves and respects me, so he is fun to debate.  We paused our favorite show for an hour and a half one night to debate the death penalty.

My biggest fear at the outset of this journey was that I would not be able to find my balance.  It is what I strive for constantly - even before I threw school into the circus.

What I have learned is that I have to make it a priority.  I have to gauge whether it is a night when I can go upstairs and shut my door and study before the kids go to bed or whether they need me in the mix.  

Gavin is at a really tough age.  He has frequent meltdowns and outbursts.  I've been a mom long enough to know that all it is is that his little brain can't always process everything he is feeling (or wanting or needing) into words.  So, sometimes it comes out as him screaming his head off and kicking the walls.  So, I try to be extra aware of what kind of day he is having.

Silas is so grown up.  He makes me proud all the time.  I'll pick him up from school, and he will ramble off into some story where a kid was afraid to get his backpack from behind the "big scary pirate ship" (a Halloween decoration they had up), so Silas went back and retrieved it for him.  He tries so hard to be an all around good person.  He's so tough on himself when he makes a mistake, and it takes a lot of dialogue to make him understand that he does not have to be perfect.  He can make mistakes and not be the best at everything.  I'm trying very hard to combat the anxiety that has festered up in him.  Pray that I am able to do that.

And Vivian.  She is thisclose to walking.  She could totally do it if she wanted to, but she doesn't.  I cannot even begin to describe her and do her any kind of justice.  She is bright and beautiful and already shows so many signs of intelligence.  She is charming and sweet and demanding and loud.  She loves everyone.  

She and Gavin have their own language.  Last night each of them sat on one side of my lap, and they spoke back and forth in their own (very loud) giberrish and just giggled and played.  And she has picked up (or inherited?) so many of his mannerisms.  

He flip flops back and forth between absolutely adoring her (his face lights up every time he says her name: "Bi-be-in") to being so jealous of her he wants to beat her up.  I really think they are going to besties one day.

Jimmy has been my absolute rock.  On the days when I'm exhausted and want to quit, he encourages me to keep going and reminds me that it will be worth it.  When I got a B on a paper and was pissed, he pushed me to do whatever I needed to get an A on the next one.  When I want to engage him in whatever we're talking about in class, he gamely participates.  When he can tell I'm overwhelmed with all I have to do, he steps in and insists I go upstairs and take whatever time I need to get caught up - he handles all the rest.

There is a light at the end of this tunnel.  I have two weeks left in this class, and then I get a break (hallelujah!)...and then I have only 11 more classes before I earn my degree...sigh.

It will all be worth it!

Let it go...

Most of us have that person we go to when our significant other is driving us nuts.

I am that person for a few people, and I'm not sure if I view my role properly after an exchange I had last night.  So, I thought I'd just put it out there and see what others think.

When someone I consider a true friend comes to me with a relationship problem, I initially allow that person to vent.  Once they have gotten it out of their system, I then try to give them a perspective based on being logical and rational.

If you're my friend, I find it important not to just tell you what you want to hear if I don't believe that's what you need to hear.  If you're my friend, I'm invested in what is best for you and your family.

So, if your husband did something ridiculous, I'm going to tell you, "that was ridiculous."  But I'm not then going to sit there and bash him and tell you to leave him (unless he hit you cause then he can go to hell.  Pack your shit and come sleep on my couch).

Instead, I'm going to give you advice based on who he is, who you are, and the circumstances in your life.  I'm going to try to see it from both sides and tell you something like, "what you have to decide is whether this fight is worth ripping apart your family because if it's not, you get to be mad for a reasonable amount of time, and then you have to work it out like adults."

Most fights are not worth ripping apart your family.  Yes, there are exceptions.  Yes, there are people who are just not meant to be together.  But until you make that decision for yourself, I am always going to encourage you to try to fix the immediate problem, let it go, and move on with your life.

I had a whole conversation last night about forgiveness.  This particular friend stated that she doesn't believe in forgiveness and that her partner doesn't deserve it for what he did.

I tried again and again to reason with her and explain, "forgiveness really has nothing to do with whether or not he deserves it.  Forgiveness is truly about allowing yourself to live in peace."  And I believe that.

Jimmy and I had lunch with Michael and Heather at their home on Sunday.  We all talked and laughed and watched football and had a nice time.

As the product of two divorced parents, I know the turmoil my children would endure if I harbored anger and hatred and resentment for Michael and Heather.  I would be creating a toxic environment and forcing guilt onto my children for loving their dad and step-mom.  I would be making them feel like they need to choose sides and have some sort of weird loyalty to one or the other of us.  My grown up crap is not their problem.  It's my responsibility as their mom to make their environment as healthy and nurturing as I can.

I just can't see the point in living in misery or putting my kids through hell to hold onto pain I endured years ago that actually worked out to make my life much better in the end.

And I don't have to fake it.  I forgave them for what they did to hurt me, and it allows me to be at peace with my life and with them.  It allows me to be friends with my ex-husband and the woman he raises our kids with.  It allows me to see Heather as a good person who cares very genuinely about my children.  It allows my children to be able to just love the people they love without having to worry about whether or not it's going to hurt or bother me.

That is the entire point of forgiving people.  So that you can let go of your hurt and move past it.  Even if you choose to never speak to that person again - or have not spoken to the person for years - don't let pain someone else caused you determine whether or not you are going to be happy.

People who harbor anger and bitterness and resentment cannot be happy.  They are allowing someone else's disregard for their feelings to destroy them.  It's so illogical, it makes my head hurt.

Because this is how I view the world, it is the only way I can see advising my friends when they seek my advice.  Even if I cannot stand their significant other (oh, and there are some I just cannot), I'm still going to encourage them find a way to live at peace with that person while they are in a relationship with them - especially if they raise children together.

So, if you're coming to me in hopes that I'm going to tell you that your S.O. is scum and deserves to be drawn and quartered, it's not going to happen - unless that person hit you - then I'm all about it.  If your S.O. was a moron who forgot your anniversary or hasn't helped with the dishes in two months, I'm going to tell you that you have to find a way to work it out as adults and not let it destroy your inner peace.

And I'm going to do that because I value you and think you deserve genuine happiness and truly believe that's the only way to have it.

Now, am I wrong for that?  Honestly?  Should I just jump on whatever train you're riding and tell you that he's a pig and deserves to sleep on the couch for a month?  I just can't see it, but I'm open to listening to your opinions.

Who am I?

I mean, life’s too short to be worried about what people are going to think if you dye your hair purple at 32.

It just is. 

I’ve been seeing purple hair on Pinterest for months, and I have just obsessed about it.

And then grown up night on Saturday turned into a botched dye job I had to fix, and I was standing in the color aisle and saw “dark violet velvet” and said, “Eff it.  I will have purple hair!” 

And I do now.  Have purple hair.  And I don’t regret it in the least.

I collided with this brick wall because my baby….my very small daughter…is just zooming right along taking first steps and being just gorgeous and perfect and amazing.  And my oldest turned five years old and talks incessantly about what he’ll be when he grows up and my middle boy.  Ugh.  He’s just incredible.  He sings Aerosmith songs and screams at the TV with me when we watch football and picks out light up shoes all by himself.

I have this stupid perfect life.  And I’m clinging to it because it’s rushing by so fast. 

Like, who does Vivian think she is trying to walk at eight freaking months old?!  This is my last time getting to experience it, and as in love with all of this as I am, it’s also killing me to be creeping toward the end of my “last first year.”

And so my whole life is about my family, which I love.  But they just insist on growing up and figuring out what they love and who they are.

So, taking a cue from them, um, who the hell am I?  What do I want outside of raising these amazing children?  What will I do when they are gone?  Because I’ve watched women who make their children their entire life and then have no idea what to do with themselves after their kids pack up and jet off into the wild blue yonder.

I’m a mom, yes.  I’m a wife, yes.  Those are two extremely important roles I play.

But I’m also a woman independent of my family.  A woman who wants purple hair and to get another degree and to spend her weekends getting mud on her boots and practicing to get her concealed handgun license and hanging out with her redneck friends who take her to the gun range and teach her everything she needs to know about a sport that makes her as giddy as football Sundays.

I’m a woman who wants to get more exercise and eat good foods and run around the backyard with her pitbulls.  I want to invest in all of the people around me and stop being afraid to make new friends and allow new people to see who I am and to stop second guessing my desires.  I want to stop ever, ever, ever asking the question, “but what will people say?”  Because, seriously, who cares? 

My family isn’t going to stop loving me if I dye my hair purple and take on two pit bulls and learn how to shoot guns and go back to school. 

People who truly love you want you to be happy and fulfilled.  As long as you aren’t doing things that are destructive, the people in your life may not understand your choices, but if they love you, they’ll support you for just living your life and finding your space to be happy in the world independent of them.

The people in my life are so beautiful and important and give me so, so much happiness.  But there is a danger in allowing your entire being to be dependent on others.  You have to be able to live fully independently of your relationships with others. 

And so that’s what I’m working on.  I’m working on giving myself permission to just make my own choices about things like having purple hair and dressing the way I’m comfortable and loving the music I love and living in a zoo full of people and animals. 

None of it hurts anyone, so who cares?  I have to just keep pushing toward finding the me who remains when all the people in my life are stripped away and I stand on my own.  That’s the person my family needs, and that’s the person I deserve to be.  And so I shall.  Purple hair and all.

R&R

Friday, my parents kindly requested the presence of Miss Vivian Grace for an evening of being spoiled rotten.  Jimmy and I agreed, rented a movie, and fell asleep on the couch watching it.

I've been fighting a cold that took violent hold of me on Saturday.  I couldn't stop sleeping.  Never one to complain about sleeping, Jimmy was a good sport and napped right along with me.  

Finally, at about 2ish, I called my mom to see if she wanted Jimmy to retrieve the baby when he went to the store to get me some Tylenol cold and flu.

Me: "Do you want Jimmy to grab Viv on the way back from Kroger?  "
Mom: "What's wrong?  Are you sick?"
Me: "Eh, yeah, I have a cold.  Jimmy is going to get me some medicine."
Mom: "Well, we're shopping for Vivian a new wardrobe, and she doesn't need to be around you.  You better leave her with me."

Let me tell you how heartbroken I was to be able to continue to lounge around trying not to cough up vital organs.  

I'm so grateful that my family genuinely enjoys spending time with my kids.  I love them to pieces, but being off "mom duty" when you feel bad is really nice.  Not that Jimmy would have made me tend to her by myself or anything.  It was just nice not to have to worry about it at all.

Eventually the medicine kicked in, and Jimmy and I made an incredible meal on the grill and played cornhole in the backyard and built a fire in the fireplace.  It was one of those great nights where nothing special happens but everything is perfect anyway and you just appreciate the one you're with.

And then I slept in again on Sunday....and then I watched the Cowboys work their way to 4 and 1...even after some hater I know text me a picture of AT&T Stadium and told me to go there if I was worried about Ebola cause "no one ever catches anything" there.  (rolling eyes now).  

Jimmy went to bed early, and I read until my eyes crossed, and I couldn't stay awake anymore - I love books that make me do that!

Tonight it's back to business as usual, but this weekend was a nice little timeout to rest and regroup and spend some solo time with my hubby.  I'm grateful for a family that gives me that opportunity.

"Shotgun shuts his cakehole"

Judgeyness is my least favorite quality in people.  Rejoining the ranks of Facebook (and having a joint account with someone who posts all the things) has opened me back up to snarky and judgmental comments (cleverly camouflaged as jokes with an "lol" thrown on the end - I'm on to you) from that lovely social media gem.

Here's the thing: yes, I basically live in a zoo.  Yes, five people and four dogs is quite a lot.  Do I always love dressing four people in the morning or waking up at 5 to let out dogs?  Nope.  Sure don't.  Do I sometimes want to scream because I'm continuously tripping over the three kids and four dogs who are incessantly under my feet?  Yep, sure do.  Do people's comments about how many kids and dogs I have make me wish I could send some of them back?  Um, no.  

"OMG!  That's so many dogs!"  Well, hell, we hadn't considered your opinion when we made the decision to get two new dogs.  Perhaps because it does not affect you in the least or cause you any extra effort or stress.  This is something we've been discussing for well over a year.  It was not a snap decision.  I cannot tell you how many times I had puppy eyes mooning up at me and said, "no.  Not now.  It's not the right time."  

The older dogs are loyal and amazingly patient and protective of the kids.  But they are getting quite old.  They like to sleep and eat and sleep and sleep.  They'll patiently endure Vivian "petting" them, but they really don't much care for romping around the yard with two small boys.  They prefer to lie in the shade in the grass and....you guessed it....sleep.  

Ok, so, why pit bulls?  Because we looked at a lot of large dog breeds, and the pit bull was the breed we came back to over and over again.  They are good with kids, extremely loyal, and look scary as hell (but are big ol' teddy bears).  

Why two?  We got the first one, Judson, when I saw him and said, "yep, that's our dog."  My gut just said he was the right one, and I listen to my gut.  We had him about a week and he had so much playful energy, and the kids go to bed at 8, and the older dogs (as I mentioned) didn't want to romp around and help him run off the energy.  So, after the kids went to bed, Jimmy and I did our best to keep him occupied, but we didn't really feel like we were hitting the mark.  Well, then, the lady who gave us Judson posted a doll house on the same site.  Vivian had to have it.  So, I dispatched Jimmy to retrieve the doll house, and the idea that perhaps Judson should be raised with a sibling was born.  So, now, we also have Jasper - who is just OMG the sweetest dog you have ever met.  The dogs personalities kind of mimic both my sons.  Jimmy and I have talked about it multiple times.  I'm telling you, these dogs were sent down from Heaven just for our family.

Our dogs  play with my kids and make us laugh and are always good for snuggles and are happy to protect us.  I love my dogs.  I love all four of them and wouldn't trade them for the world.  I'm feeding them and bathing them (although admittedly probably not often enough) and (lord help me) clipping their nails and making vet appointments and enrolling them in obedience school (lest you think I'm going to have untrained Pit bulls roaming my home) and potty training and applying flea and tick treatments.  I'm doing what you're supposed to do when you have animals.  Yes, even with three kids and a ridiculous commute and a full time job.

"You've got your hands full there!"  Yep, random guy at the grocery store or preschool drop off or anywhere in public really.  I made lots of children, and I dress them and feed them and work so they have a roof over their heads.  I pray for them and talk to them and push them on swings and work with the 400 people who are in their lives to make sure that we are all a united village raising them to be the best little people they can be.  And while I believe that public assistance is quite necessary and applaud people who use it the way it's intended to be used, I'm blessed enough not to need it.  So, my kids aren't costing you a dime.  So, BACK. OFF.

"Wow, I can't believe you're going to take on school with all you have on your plate!"  Maybe this one is just me being too sensitive.  Maybe people mean something not judgey and snarky when they say this.  But let me tell you how my brain translates it:  "you're spreading yourself too thin and are going to be a less effective employee/wife/mother because you're doing too much."  So, if that is what you mean, kiss my ass.  No, really, I don't feel like mincing words and being polite today.  (I told y'all nothing good comes of Facebook).  So, kiss my ass.

I'm excited to start this new chapter.  Will I have less free time and get less sleep?  Yes.  But it's a temporary sacrifice for the betterment of my family.  I have been thinking about going back to school for years, and nothing ever came together properly.  Now things have come together exactly as I needed them to come together.  I'm grateful for this opportunity and have full confidence that I can juggle this one extra bowling pin thrown into my circus act and do so without harming all of the people in my life who are most important.

So, as I've seen on Pinterest many times: "Driver picks the music; shotgun shuts his cakehole."  I'm the driver in my life, and I'm going to (white girl) dance to the dance mix of my choice.  Others are free to observe quietly or GO. AWAY.

So, about chicken...

I have these blue gloves.  They're disposable.  We used them when we were painting the house, and there were so many that now there is just an endless supply in my cabinet.  I use them for cleaning or changing particularly foul diapers.  That doesn't seem to raise eyebrows.  

But you want to know what does?

This:

I'm not sure when it happened because I haven't always been this way, but chicken freaks me out.  

When I was younger, I'd cook with chicken, and it didn't bother me to touch it.  I'd just wash my hands when I was done.

Eventually, it got to where I'd wash my hands (literally) before I'd touch anything after I'd touched chicken (not just immediately after touching it - but throughout the entire prep of the meal after I'd after already washed my hands immediately after handling it) and then scrub down my entire kitchen with disinfectant when I was done.

Then it got to the point where I'd hover like a crazy person when anyone else was touching chicken and make them wash their hands 48,000 times and I'd wipe down every surface behind them.

At some juncture, I began involving a fork.  I could no longer stomach touching it.  I still washed my hands incessantly and scrubbed every surface in the kitchen afterward, but I'd use a fork to, say, dredge chicken I planned to fry through the battering process.

Now, I am accustom to this, and I am accustom to people making fun of me for it (I'M KEEPING YOU ALL FROM GETTING SICK - YOU'RE WELCOME!!!).  Here's the thing though, I have severe eczema, and all my insane hand washing (for it's not just chicken, I wash and sanitize my hands obsessively now - I didn't used to do that.  I mean, I washed my hands but not like this) keeps my hands cracked and bleeding.  Between my cell phone and money and my germy kids and food prep and door handles and key pads - I wash my hands, wipe them down with wet wipes, or use hand sanitizer an exorbitant number of times every day (OMG, MY HEAD MAY EXPLODE THINKING ABOUT IT!) I have special extra strength skin ointment from the dermatologist that can't even keep it under control now.

Plus, using a fork when you're making foil packets for, like, 12 pieces of chicken slows things down.

So, gloves.  Now I use gloves if I have to touch meat.  I use them, touch the meat, throw them away, sanitize everything, and then take out the trash...and wash my hands again because I had to touch the trash.

Yes, I'm sure it has something to do with my anxiety disorder, but this is one of those areas that I'm okay with being a nut case.  I don't want to change it, but I don't want it to get worse either.  It feels like a very slippery slope between where I am now and a place I do not want to live in my head.

I don't know why I wanted to share this.  I just find it odd the way this has evolved and have wanted to write about it for a while.

So, now that's done.  I'm going to go wash my hands.  :/