A Qupdate and Other Stuff

Quick Update ("A Qupdate"): Today I weighed in at 168. Total weight loss so far is 4 lbs. Four pounds, four weeks, I can live with that! I completed 14 miles last week, and worked out three days. And here's an awesome thing for you to try: Yogurt, strawberries, smashed up crunchy granola bar. Dat es some tasty sturff. Almost guilt-free, too! I've also made it with bananas.

As some of you may know, I've been on a quest to find wholesome makeup. I take exception to talc, mica, etc., and have been trying to find something a little more health-friendly.

Que "100% Pure."

No, I'm not being paid to advertise their product.

And after I'm done, they might take exception to my feelings about their products.

When I discovered 100% Pure, I was super excited! Their makeup was made up of squished up fruit and the like, and so I was all for it. I mean, hey, 100 % pure...can't get much better than that!

I hemmed and hawed over it, though, because of the price. I bit the bullet, however, and bought the stuff, because having cancer of the face isn't on my to-do list.

At this same time, I decided that I should be all homeopathic and earthy and make some of my own makeup. The internet is rife with all sorts of recipes for homemade cosmetics, and so I gleefully bought powdered hibiscus, charcoal, and other ingredients I would need.

Once I had all the stuff I needed, my kitchen became a mini chem lab, and I think Jeremy passed through the kitchen several times making witch cackles at me as I brewed at the sink. (Not unlike the time I made my own chapstick, but we're not going to talk about the giant disaster that was...)

I made my own blush, eyeliner, eye shadow, and mascara.

A few things I noticed:

1. Homemade blush doesn't stick to your skin, at least, not if you use dried hibiscus, or other ground up flowers. I would apply the stuff (which smelled heavenly since I put in some tangerine essential oils in it), and 20 minutes later I was all pale again (I'm part albino). My guess is that if you wanted the stuff to stay, you would have to apply moisturizer to your face and directly put on the blush. It needs something to stick to, and a foundationed and powdered face wasn't cutting it.

2. I'm not sure if it was the charcoal or the cocoa that made my eyes sting like the dickens. I quickly decided that my homemade eyeliner, mascara and shadow weren't worth the agony I was going through and discarded them as cosmetic options. That, and because I was basically putting watered-down charcoal on my eyes, it would eventually evaporate, leaving coal dust behind, which makes a big ol' nasty mess. I AM a mess, but I don't need to look like one, too.

3. Just because something is 100% natural, doesn't mean it is good for your skin. Which brings me to my review of 100% Pure.

After brewing my own stuff in the kitchen, I had to wait a while for the products to come that I ordered. To their credit, 100% Pure was quick on their shipping, and I didn't have to wait long. But anything longer than about 10 minutes is an eternity for me, which is why I start getting stir-crazy on the treadmill watching those seconds tick by...but, we're not talking about that...

Anyway, I was super excited about trying this whole-food (basically) makeup. I applied some of the foundation to a makeup sponge, and slathered it on my face. It was super thick...like wood glue thick. But, it was all-natural, and I wanted to make it work, and I've had thick makeups in the past, so I just decided that I should water my sponge before I tried it again, and that seemed to fix that problem.

Jeremy complimented me on the makeup, saying that it looked more like my natural skin tone than any other makeup I had tried (Score 1 for 100% Pure!).

I really liked how it looked on my skin, and was pretty content with it.

Until three things happened: 1) the large bottle of foundation ran out after about 10 days (BOO...keep in mind I was using less than a pea-sized amount); 2) the stuff was really hard to wash off (see above glue reference); and 3) my skin began to dry out miserably.

Now, I don't know about you, but I've known my skin for quite a while now (going on 32 years), and I knew if I kept up with this makeup my skin would decided to have an oil rave and I would breakout like I was some pubescent whack-a-doodle. No, thank you very much. I was rather disappointed by this turn of events, especially since all the other products I had found that were close to being all-natural were out of stock on their websites.

What to do....

I discovered THIS website quite a while ago, and decided to search out some makeup that was close to being non-life threatening and less expensive than the other options.

I think I found THE BEST drug store makeup! 100% Pure can just go squeeze fruit somewhere else.

L'Oreal (again, not being paid...would be nice, though) has a great liquid foundation called True Match that I love love love. It isn't glue on my skin, and my skin apparently doesn't object to it, which is huge for me since I have super annoying skin.

Neutrogena has a great pencil eyeliner that has the thumbs up from Skin Deep, and they also have okayed Define-a-Line by Maybelline.

Maybelline also carries One-By-One mascara that is great.

I use Fit Me! pressed powder by Maybelline, and their blush. I figure if I have the foundation on, it will block all the bad stuff in the blush, right? I mentioned I don't like mica or talc, and both of those are frequently the main ingredients in blush and eyeshadow. I've taken the same theory on eyeshadow, and if I get cancer of the eyelids, then at least they will be sparkly and smokey.

So, there ya go. I would try L'Oreal's True Match if you have sensitive skin, and are looking for something non-hazardous.

For my skin cleansing routine I use Burt's Bees Radiance facial cleanser, followed by the Day and Night creams (I LOOOOOOOVE Burt's Bees everything! And I would be super happy if they paid me in chapsticks...). Their shampoo is a little on the mild side, and since I use a lot of product in my hair, it isn't my favorite. I need something that will strip my hair of all the junk I put in it, along the lines of liquid lye. Their body washes and soaps are really nice too, and I love their Baby Bee stuff for my own skin. Hey, if it's good enough for baby, it's good enough for me and my big ol' scaly epidermis.

Do the Hustle!

Missy always has great ideas.

For my 13th birthday party, she thought it would be fun to have a dance competition to "Do the Hustle." I don't remember if we actually did it, but I remember thinking how awesome it sounded.

I was thinking of that song today because as of Monday, Lily and Eva are in separate bedrooms. I guess I should have said, "Do the Shuffle!" instead, but hustle works too.

We've been prepping Lily and Eva about the change for weeks, for two reasons: 1) so Lily didn't have a nervous breakdown once she realized she no longer had a roommate to torture all night long and 2) so that Eva wouldn't have a nervous breakdown and could endure the week or so of waiting for her new bed.

So, Monday morning, I stripped Lily's bunkbed and threw it all into the washing machine ("Trow it in the wash! It'll be grand!" Name that movie and you will get a prize!). I pulled out the new ladybug blankets and sheets and went to work.

It was at this moment Eva decided to have a meltdown.

"But I want to have new blankets!" She wept bitterly.

I sighed impatiently.

"You are getting an entirely new BED, Eva, so you can just stop..."

She wandered off and cried into her pink fuzzy blanket, no doubt thinking I was worse than a Wicked Step Mother. I was the ultimate Evil Mother.

Lily bounced around the messy room while I was working, completely filled with glee that she had new blankets, and two new and exciting throw pillows in the shape of a flower and a ladybug. Life was great. Especially since Eva was crying about it.

Jeremy rolled into town, bunkbed in tow, a few hours later.

After dinner we began working on building the dumb thing, all while trying to keep five children happy and getting along (Can you say popcorn? Lots and LOTS of popcorn?).

After we were done, we plunked one bed on top of the other, complete with the old blankets and sheets, and started getting the littles ready for bed.

It was at this moment that Lily decided to have a meltdown.

"I get blankets and pillow?" she asked excitedly as she sat on the new top bunk.

"No," I said consolingly. "Lily's not sleeping in here."

She let out some high pitched, yet guttural, bellowing screech (you'd have to hear it to understand the dynamics of a Lily Scream), and positioned herself on the new top bunk where I couldn't grab her. After a minute or two, her desire to be consoled won over her need to sleep on the new bed, and she let me pick her up, her body sagging in despair as she gave herself over to wretched defeat.

Eva danced around the room in pure delight, punctuating her joy with a happy little bounce onto her new bed.

I laughed a sad little laugh in my head at the irony.

We finally got everyone where they were supposed to be, and I sat back, sort of bewildered that I didn't have anybody screaming in their beds.

I had forgotten what it was like to have quiet children at bedtime.

It didn't last long, though.

Lily, with nobody to harass, was at her door within a few minutes, complaining about something.

Jeremy went in and fixed her up with whatever she felt she was in dire need of, and left.

She was back after a short while, and instead of going in to her room, Jeremy put a blanket at the base of the door so Lily would stop peeking out, which resulted in insulted Lily Screams, and she presumably passed out, either from exhaustion, or from hyperventilating.

During this hullabaloo, Eden started calling out.

"HEY!" she said. "HEY!"

I then realized that I hadn't once thought about what Eden had to say about getting a roommate.

I had been so wrapped up in prepping Lily and Eva that I had forgotten that there was another person involved who, as of late, has been known to have strong feelings on just about everything, though it usually is about bananas, popcorn, and shoes.

Her "HEY!" didn't sound angry, though. Merely questioning, like she was saying, "Did I miss the memo?"

She then commemorated the occasion by pooping in her diaper, which sent Eva into a knocking-on-the-door frenzy, and, once again, Jeremy came to the rescue, while I sat in complete docility at this here desk doing something important, like playing a game. I tell myself it's good for Jeremy to deal with these things. It makes him a stronger person. He'll be all sorts of efficient and schooled in household matters when I die of a game-induced brain hemorrhage.

Crash and Burn: An open letter to Jillian Michaels

Dear Jillian Michaels,

I just wanted to drop you a note.

You know, just to tell you how I feel...

You keep telling me to bring me A-game. Be present in my life.

Blahdy blahdy blah.

Well, you know what? I just brought my A-game to the giant piece of tuxedo cake I scarfed down just now. I ate that sucker like I MEANT it, baby. Take that A-game and stand back in wonder and awe at the chocolate ring around my mouth that I will lick shamelessly like some messy toddler.

I brought my A-game to dinner, too, when I showed that Panda Express egg roll who was boss, bench pressed that sucker, dunked it in sweet and sour awesomeness and devoured it in three bites.

Yeah. I'm present when I eat.

So, with all this A-gameness going on, I'd like your voice to stop talking to me in the back of my head, telling me that I shouldn't have eaten that pile of chow mein noodles, or that I should probably stop drinking the slightly-less-than-healthy caffeine-free Dr. Pepper that is sitting next to me on my desk.

STOP IT.

I don't like food guilt.

I did your stupid "Ripped in 30" workout this morning, and I followed it up with a mile walk/run on my treadmill. I deserve to eat a giant pile of butter-slathered red potatoes. I do. And I don't need to hear your voice telling me about starches and how bad they are with each succulent, wretched bite I take.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know I didn't lose any weight this last week (we're not even going to talk about all the stuff I ate for Mother's Day, except to say four of the most beautiful words in the English language: "Browned Butter Caramel Snickerdoodles"...), and I know you're going to make some smart-alec-y remark about eating right, but I'm done, lady, I've had enough. I'm gonna drink that caffeine-free Dr. Pepper full well knowing I'm going to cry tomorrow as I stand on my bathroom scale and wonder how "that" happened.

I know that you'll just say the only time crying is okay is when I am bench pressing my own weight on a pile of hot coals while doing reverse crunches with 40-pound weight strapped to my ankles while you, Jillian,  stand on my stomach the whole time, yelling at me that bleeding out my ears will burn more calories.

But I'm done.

Until tomorrow...when I will drag myself out of bed at the crack of the crack of dawn and hit the power button on my DVD player and stand like some sort of drone in front of my TV, imitating you and your super fit minions.

So, because I will do this, just shut up. SHUT. UP. Let me enjoy that one last bite of tuxedo cake, that last sip of soda...

Sincerely,

Me