And so the saga comes to a shattering halt… Several months ago, as my old-time readers may recall, I decided to go on a No-Poo (a collective term for methods of washing hair with no commercial shampoo: Wikipedia) diet. At first it was to see how long I could actually do it, and then in turned into a healthier alternative to the chemical infested products that my body was most familiar with. I love to be healthy, within the norm, and I figured that perhaps it would even make a positive change towards my thin and oily brown hair.
The first few weeks were a disaster. I was not using natural bought soaps and shampoos, I was totally poo-free. I tried everything in the books, or rather Google, I should say; all to no avail. I read up on fantasy success stories of how baking soda rinses and cucumber lemon pulp turned frizzy, unbearable, mop-headed ogres into flowing, lustrous, healthy-haired princesses. Read the rest of this entry
My kids are struggling and it is time for me to be a mom. I know I am always a mom, but it is time for me to act like one. I have been possessed by my computer and, of course, my blog and I need an exorcist. I have tried closing the screen and shutting the door to the computer room. All this to no avail. It just takes me an extra moment and I need to flip open the screen and swing open the door.
I see they are having a hard time and they are crying for my attention. You would think it is a simple decision to say goodbye to the computer and hello to them. But I can’t. I have been overcome by the urge to write. I have trouble sleeping at night because my mind is clouded by posts in progress. I need my children to become a writer’s block. Now, I have to figure out how it can be done.
Today, I will attempt to be there. Without my computer, I get awful withdrawal and words don’t seem to exit my mouth. It starts slowly. First, I am wonderful and I listen to the whining and I obey their requests. Ten minutes later, the whining is still present and I don’t want to hear it anymore. I tell myself to woman up and smile and nod. I become a smile and nodder. The plan works for an hour tops and then begins to gradually deteriorate. The smile is almost a frown and the nodding head turns achy. The disguise comes to a complete halt and the hands start doing Spirit Fingers. Where is my keyboard? Then the mumbling tumbles in. The kids ask me to speak up and I am afraid if I do I will shout so loud, the windows will shatter. I don’t want to freak them out. I purse my lips shut. Read the rest of this entry