Top 6 Favorite Things for My Winter '09

6. Snow. But I'm outta luck, folks. Sad, in a way. But then again, it was 64 degrees here when I talked to my sister-in-law in Idaho today and it was 23 there. Egads.

5. Yankee Candle's "Pumpkin Spice". Delicious. Wipes out the usual odor around here of dirty diapers, burnt popcorn, burnt dinner for that matter, and mouse pee.

4. My cozy pink gloves. Mainly wear them when running, but maybe this should change.

3. Progresso Soup's low-sodium "Italian-Style Wedding". A whole can is 4 points. Yum.

2. Kevin's space heater in our bathroom. Short of having a heated floor and towel bar, this is the closest thing to wonderland in the bathroom.

1. Good Earth's Sweet & Spicy Herbal Tea. (I'll give credit where credit is due and thank Heather R.H. for introducing me about six years ago.) So delicious and there's nothing like a cup of tea (and the cozy pink gloves) to warm me up. I personally rather enjoy the fun quotes on each tea bag, too.

Morose

Yesterday was 11/11 - a great day for people like me who enjoy weird things. And I forgot to blog! How could I do that?

Well, to mark my sadness at missing the occasion, I'll at least share this very unique photo with you:


Wondering what you're looking at? Can you guess? Study closely...
Kevin's extracted wisdom teeth! All four! Two in tact with roots still attached, two in bits-n-pieces.

If that upset you, maybe this photo of John dressed in a tutu thanks to his big sis will cheer you up.


Happy 11/12! (It's just not the same.)

Shampoo

My relationship with Garnier Fructis is over. I first bought it because it has many of the ingredients approved for curly hair (according to Curly Girl, The Handbook). But it also had its share of problems. For one thing, the dork that designed the bottle has obviously never tried to open shampoo with wet hands while standing in an actual shower. Here is a photo:

See that roundish thing at the top? Besides being roundish, it's also smooth. And the only way into the shampoo. I had to use a washcloth to open it every time.

The other problem is the name. Garnier Fructis, which, if the commercial is to be trusted, should be prounounced as if you are French - (Gar-nyay Frook-teese). When you're sitting around with your friends and the topic of "What shampoo do you use" is addressed, you either sound like a wanna-be Parisian or say it the other way and sound like a redneck (Gar-neer Fruck-tiss).

Farewell, annoying bottle. As is my way, I set out for Target to buy a NEW brand of hair washer. Now I've been sucked in by Herbal Essences. Those folks over at Clairol have gone ALL OUT on their product labeling. I bought the "break's over" strengthening kind - "a love potion for bad hair break-ups". On the back they say, "Discover happiness after a bad hair break-up." How did they know? Garneer Frucktiss left me with a lot of breakage! This stuff has "an anti-breakage potion". Oooooooooooooohhhh! I like the word "potion" in my hair-care products. Clairol person even put a trivia question on the bottle, and the answer is on the conditioner. Clever! Go to get the answer and once you have that bottle in your hand, it's as good as bought!

Only thing I'm curious about is that, in addition to the potion, it says it has "a fusion of coco mango and pearls". Pearls? In my shampoo? If that were true, surely it would cost a LOT more and only be available at the salon. So what do they mean?

I called the Clairol Customer Service Hotline (the number is printed on the bottle) but alas, they were closed for the day. The recording ended with, "If you have a medical emergency..." WHAT? Now I need to know not only what pearls they're talking about, but also what medical emergencies might be associated with my use of their hair-care stuff.

Stay tuned for my spellbinding comments on the new lipstick I accidentally bought.

I did the triathalon

route today on my run.

I could almost breathe the leftover energy from yesterday's event. Gotta love those guys and girls out there pounding the pavement after splashing through the lake and biking a crazy distance.

Watched the runners zoom by our church and then fly through our neighborhood. Porta-potties and Gatorade stations everywhere. LOVE it! Someday...

For now, I jogged part of their route a day after they did. Worrying all the while what difference an altitude change will make in my running. I'm registering for a 5K on Joe's birthday. I'll say a 5K beats two days of labor hands down.

Poop Sprayer Nostalgia

My friend Heather has asked to borrow my poop sprayer. Any minute now I'll go get it out of the "cloth diapering" bin in the garage. And, oh, the memories will emerge from the bin right along with the diapering supplies.

I cloth diapered my first three children. Little John, though, has known nothing but disposables on his bottom. Sorry, John. Sorry, budget. Sorry, landfill. At one point, I even had three kids at once in cloth. This is because the oldest was still in PullUps (which I found a cloth version of) before the girls were potty-trained. So I consider myself a cloth diapering pro. I have six years of it on my mom resume. This will do me no good anywhere, but someone should applaud me. I was not always a pro, especially when I tried new things like the poop sprayer.

The poop sprayer is a handy device, much like a kitchen faucet sprayer, but you attach it to your toilet plumbing. Then, when it's time to dislodge a poo from a cloth diaper, you are SUPPOSED to simply hold the poopy diaper over the toilet, cleverly aim the sprayer at the poop, and spray toward the toilet bowl. Then you flush, toss the diaper into the pail, and go on your merry way.

Let me be the one to tell you --- that thing harnesses some serious water pressure. And the first poop I experimented with was... shall we say... NOT neat and tidy. Unsuspecting, I unleashed the full force of the water and when it came in contact with the poop - there was a crazy splash emergency of sorts. All over my bathroom walls. All over the toilet. And of course all over me. I'm sure I cussed. Probably a lot. And spent the next twenty-five minutes cleaning up what should have been a NON mess.

Over time, I became more proficient with the sprayer. And it resided a long while in my bathroom in Yucaipa. When it came time to sell our house, however, I dismantled the whole system because of the constant faint odor of poo. That odor goes along with the scent of saved money, though - and the satisfaction of doing your part for the environment. But now I live stench-free in a disposable-diaper world and will soon happily send off the sprayer to Sacramento.

Heather, if you're reading, Best Wishes! May the poop sprayer give you many happy rinses. It's positively WAY better than the old system of swishing the poopy mess around in the toilet bowl by hand. I give my mom huge props for doing that my whole babyhood.

Someday, if I have a baby into my forties, and my energy to cloth diaper returns - send the poop sprayer back my way and we'll get reacquainted.

Somehow, someway, this is funny:

That I have a black dermatologist. It strikes me as funny that a guy with skin as opposite mine as you can get is advising me on crucial skin care. Kevin and I walked into our appointment yesterday, poster children for the dermatological profession, and the doctor is black. Come to find out, though, he has a greater risk for melanoma sneaking up on him. He explained this to me at great length, which made me fall in love with him. I fall in love with any doctor that answers my questions at great length. I do NOT like doctors who show their annoyance at my 55 billion questions.

He used the nitro gun and zapped numerous spots on my arms. I look a teeny bit like my arms are covered in blisters. It's really pretty, lemme tell ya. AND I have a prescription for this cream that I have to apply daily for a week or two to all the parts of my body that get regular sun exposure. If there is any pre-cancer on any of those parts, the cream will essentially sizzle them to bits. Sizzle, seer, and scab. Therefore, I will not be taking a family portrait anytime soon. Sheesh. We go back in a couple weeks to have various protrusions sliced off our skin. Kevin more than me. Start praying now, because the last time they did this, the cutter/dermatologist accused Kevin of having a bleeding disorder. That's not what you want to discover right after they've hacked a two-foot crater into the flesh on your back.

I did not go back to the guy I saw last year. My dermatologist needs to impress my socks off since this is the guy that will probably, in the next forty years, save my life. The guy I saw last year sent his PA out to look me over. I'm not against PAs, but I much prefer the real MD. Plus, that particular PA didn't talk enough. I'm all about the talking. And the sense of humor. And, as Kevin noticed, the "Rainman"-like qualities that somehow we both find comforting in physicians. Doesn't hurt that they had free Atomic Fireballs at the counter on the way out. Kevin had one and I got to hear about it all the way home as it burned the first two layers off the inside of his mouth.

Did you know you can get melanoma on your eyeballs? I didn't. But my new, nitro-gun-bearing, "Rainman"-like, pleasantly-talkative, life-saving, funny, black dermatologist informed me it is so. So... get your eyes checked once a year! And your skin. And teeth. And cholesterol. And boobs. And other private parts. And maybe, just maybe, if you don't get hit by a truck while you're out jogging, you'll live long enough to die of old age.

Halloween Highlights

The kids:


We had Silver Mist, the water fairy from Tinker Bell (in case like me, you didn't know); Minnie Mouse; a puppy; and a skeleton. The skeleton mask was a little on the scary side for little siblings and friends who trick-or-treated with us, but it didn't last long anyway due to comfort issues. I thought it was a perfect costume since saints are often depicted with skulls as a reminder of our mortality! John's costume was complete with a dog bowl that Kevin bought at Target last-minute. You shoulda heard all the compliments he got on cuteness when he held up his little dog dish to get candy.

This year's jack o' lanterns:


And other stats:
total trick-or-treaters in our group - 20
# of Catholic costumes (counting the skeleton) - 3 (we had a monk and Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton)
# of toasted pumpkin seeds - 744
# of 100 Grand bars I ate post trick-or-treating - just 2!