The Sorry Will Mean Something

I think most mothers have been in a situation where their child has done something to another child--either said something mean or hit/pushed. There's always that awkward moment after such an incident where all the mothers of the children involved stand around trying to figure out what happened, trying to make their child feel better and also trying to assign blame/seek justice. It is, indeed, always awkward especially if the mothers have totally different frameworks from which they are parenting.

I know I've been in this situation countless times and I often feel like the mother of the other child is looking for me to force Z1 to say sorry. I never do. First of all, Z1 would never say sorry.  I could physically twist his arm if I wanted and he wouldn't do it.  He would sooner stalk off, throw himself on the floor, cross his arms and frown, etc.--an apology would not be coming any time soon.  If he feels his actions were justified, I can forget about an apology.  Which leaves me staring at the mom helplessly as she (essentially) shakes her head at what a poor parenting job I'm doing because Z1 just won't say it.

So these days, I'm much more focused on getting him to empathize with folks that are hurt.  In this way, whatever apology he offers is heartfelt.  This doesn't always fly with other mothers even if I apologize on Z1's behalf and take steps to make sure the incident doesn't happen again like talking to Z1 about keeping his hands to himself or removing him from the situation. It's just not good enough.  They want, no expect, that apology.

With all the spiritual and psychological work I've been doing to get myself to a healthy place, I realize that expecting or demanding an apology for perceived wrongs is really a waste of time.  Often times, if a person knows an apology is expected, they'll give it but it won't be sincere and they'll be sure to commit the offense again.  Why?  Because that person may not feel he/she did anything wrong in the first place.  That person may not understand (or care about) why you are offended.  He/she may think that you taking offense is silly or uncalled for.  That person simply may not care.  Period.  Why expend energy expecting an apology?  These days I'm much more inclined to process these things on my own, to recognize why I was hurt or offended and do things within my own power to avoid it happening again.  This sometimes includes modifying my behavior with the offending person (e.g. not being as open or as friendly).  It's always my hope that if someone sees they have hurt me that they will make an effort to make me feel better.  But as always, how I feel and how I react, at the end of the day, is solely my responsibility.

So Z1 rarely expects apologies at this point when he gets into it with other kids.  Playground scuffles usually end with him coming to vent to me, I sympathize with him and hug him, and give him options for how he can continue to make his playing experience positive.  Yet, I'm careful to model to him how and when to apologize.  Like if I accidentally break something of his or step on his toe, I will say, "Oh Z1, I accidently broke your puzzle.  I know that made you very upset and I'm sorry.  May I help you put it back together?"  I'm careful to slow him down after he's pushed his brother down so that he can take a look at how sad/hurt his brother is.  I will ask Z1 how he thinks Z2 is feeling and if he were in Z2's shoes, what he would want or need.  Without coercion, Z1 will go over and try to soothe his brother and apologize.  So Z1 does indeed say sorry but that's when he wants to--when he realizes that he did something that hurt someone else (even if he feels hurt or treated unjustly himself)--and I don't have to pull teeth to get him to do it either. To me, this makes a whole lot more sense--especially in light of the fact that children get over things so quickly because they tend towards wanting to be joyful, light and happy.

I was bullied as a child and one thing I remember so clearly was being treated horribly and the bully taunting me with, "Oh, I'm sorry!" not to make me feel better, exactly, but just as part of the meanness so they could say they didn't mean it when, in fact, they really did.  I remember reporting the bullying to a teacher and me and the bully being brought together and the teacher forcing the bully to apologize.  The bully would always say "I'm Sorry" and then turn around not more than five minutes after and continue with the bullying--to an even fiercer degree and much more insidiously because I had the nerve to tell.  No one, it seemed, was interested in really fixing the pain.  Everyone was more interested in the superficial politeness.  I wasn't amused.

Saying sorry is the social thing to do.  It's polite.  And we all want to teach our children how to be polite.  But more important to me than teaching my children politeness for the sake of getting along is teaching them empathy and sincerity.  More important to me is teaching that words have meaning and should be meaningful (not empty).  I know if I can get Z1 to empathize consistently, to understand when someone else feels like they've been treated unjustly, to care when someone is hurt, the apology will come and it will come without force.  And then the sorry will mean something.

Photo Credit:  "I'm Sorry" by hey mr. glen on Flickr.com

At home

I read this Interesting post at Domestic Felicity. I've heard it said before that women should look good at home, that as single women we always made an effort to look good, etc. so why does it change when we get married?  The question always unsettles me a bit. Maybe because I never hear this question being posed to men. Maybe because I think it (perhaps) places unrealistic expectations on women. Maybe because I don't think it's altogether true. I'm not sure. So I'm going to try to flesh it out.

As a single woman, if I were going out to work or to meet friends or on a date, I dressed up and tried my best to look nice/neat. As a married woman, I do the same thing (except I don't go out on dates).  As a single woman in my own house, I wore comfortable clothing. As a married woman in my own house, I wear comfortable clothing.

Most marriages involve cohabitation as mine does. That means that most of the time, when a husband sees his wife, it's at home. Now, it's always amazing to me that any husband could think that the woman they just almost gave themselves whiplash to look at simply walked out of the door without doing a dang thing. Most likely, that beautiful woman had to go through a process at home. This process may have involved coke bottle rollers, white face creams, smelly hair removal stuff, etc . . . she did that while she was at home. My opinion: if you think that woman out in the street if more fierce than I am, go on ahead and mess with her. You'll find when you get her at home, you'll be quite disappointed. Because at home, all that stuff comes off and a very different set of stuff gets put on. Whatever women he sees during the day, that's fine and he can look. But every man should know that those women--even the most well made up, high heel wearing, diva-esque of them--go home. 

Now that doesn't mean married women have a free license to be nasty or just not give a damn about how they look at home. By all means, brush those teeth, fix that hair and put on some clothes that fit. But it just seems to go without saying that a woman who took pride in being clean and being a woman before marriage, barring any psychological issues, would continue to do the same despite being married. I mean, she may not be able or have the desire to go all out like she used to (because marriage is indeed a "settling down") however she'd be sure to wear clean clothes and take care of herself.  But at home? I just can't understand why a woman would do anything other than be comfortable at home. I don't expect my husband when he's at home to put on his good clothes. In fact, most days when he's off, he lounges around in pajamas. That's cool. When I'm going out we both get dressed so he gets plenty of opportunities to see me looking good and put together. When we go out together, I make even more of a serious effort to look my best. Being comfortable at home (not slovenly) in my mind has nothing to do with disrespecting your partner and everything to do with being at home.

Where can a woman be completely at ease if not at home? Where can she really relax if not at home? I mean, honestly?  Where can she let go of the worry that she's not measuring up to other women? That if she doesn't keep herself "just so", she shouldn't expect faithfulness?

At home, being clean, not ashy and in clean clothes is truly my husband's only requirement and I'm grateful. He sees me naked for goodness sake. No clothes to obstruct the view. And he's not complaining. If there was a problem, because we are married, he should be able to communicate with me and help me in whatever way he can so we can both feel happy and positive. If he can't or won't, then that is the real problem--not the fact that I'm wearing sweatpants at home.

I remember an online conversation I was involved in a while back about this very issue. Many participants threw about the phrase "bait and switch" as in women will go the extra mile to "trap" a husband and once they have him in their clutches, they'll let themselves go, i.e. put on weight, dress frumpily, etc . . . I don't doubt that some women do that. But I'd venture to say that to most women, looking good to their husbands is a priority. Shoot, most women still want to look good to men who are not their husbands. They want to be desirable. I read all the time about women worrying that as they get older, men don't look at them anymore--preferring younger women. This seems to be a big concern. Would that same woman who's got that going on in her mind then just "let it all go" with their husbands? Just give up. Maybe, I suppose but not likely. A woman with a healthy self-esteem would sooner redouble her efforts than give up. Most women realize that men are visual creatures and if a woman is vastly different from what their man was attracted to in the first place, there could be issues. But, on the flip side, most men (at least most good men) realize that life brings about changes. Children happen. Illness happens. Life happens. But to me, that's the joy and beauty of marriage: sticking and staying through the really great times and the times that suck.

It's good every so often to switch it up and look really nice at home. I'm all for sexy lingerie, short shorts, and tight leggings around the house. But in my house, I should feel at home. I shouldn't be worrying about competing with outside women. Especially since in my mind, my husband is not competing with outside men. Why should he be? I love him and I'm content with him and he's trying to keep himself looking good and fit. He's making an effort. I'm making an effort and that is really what's important.  Aside from that, let's just be at home.

I understand that a lot of times when this topic is brought up, that there is a bottom line point the authors are making (or at least I hope so) in order to be help women be successful and happy in their marriages. The message is don't get so comfortable in your marriage that you start to take things for granted. But that bit of advice should permeate every aspect of the marriage and should always flow both ways--man to woman and woman to man. I think the more important message is for each partner to stay open, communicative and sensitive about each other's needs.

And be comfortable enough with each other to be comfortable at home.

Everybody needs a little "me" time

I had a terrible allergy fit last night and ended up taking 2 Claritin.  The box says that taking more than the recommended dose could make you drowsy.  For me, it's like drinking Red Bull or some other kind of high caffeine drink.  My sleep is shallow and any little thing can rouse me.  But it's far better than suffering with the allergies: sneeze, sneeze, sniffle, blow, scratch throat, rub eyes, sneeze, sneeze, sniffle.

Anyway, today was the first morning I was supposed to get up at 4:45 to exercise. And when the alarm clock rang, my eyes sprang open.  I lay in bed for just a few moments more (because it was cold outside the bed and I like to listen to my men sleeping).  Anyway, just as I was about to get out of bed, Z2 started to stir.  I stayed perfectly still.  It didn't work!  This little dude knew what I was up to and got up right then.  So I spent some time trying to calm him down by singing to him (He loves Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star).  Fifteen minutes later, he was back asleep.  I crept out of bed to go wash my face, brush my teeth and put on my workout attire.  As soon as I got to the bathroom, he was up again hollering, "Mom, mom, mom!!"  Oh Lord help me!  So I go back to the bedroom and this time I figure let me just nurse him back to sleep.  So I do and he drifts off.  I go to get my nipple out of his mouth and this little dude will not let go!  Eventually, I just stick my finger in his mouth to break the latch and he starts to pitch a fit.  At this point, I'm like whatever--it's 5:40 already and I've been up one whole hour trying to put him back to sleep so I can go workout.  He's there in bed with his father hollering while I go off to get my workout on.  Well, he cried and cried and cried for close to 45 minutes while I was exercising.  I felt badly for him but I was determined to exercise and I wasn't going to let him derail me.  I really need to exercise to let go of stress and also for my digestive health and just an overall feeling of well being.  I jumped around the living room with him bawling and didn't stop once.  Did I feel any guilt?  Not one iota.

See, I spend practically my whole day focused on my family especially my little boys.  For most of the day, their needs come first.  I can't tell you how many times I've given them lunch but forgot to give myself lunch.  How many pampers have I changed and butts have I wiped but forget to go to the bathroom myself until it's a dire emergency?  This is what the day usually looks like.  I just need a few moments where my attention is totally focused on me.  Little Z2 doesn't quite understand that but he doesn't need to in order for me to give myself permission to do what I need to do.  I feel badly that he was in there hollering at his father who also needs his sleep but believe me, I am a much better wife and person in general when I get my exercise.  And this morning, not only did I get a chance to exercise, I was able to journal, study and chant in a focused way because it was quiet and I was alone.  I feel really great right now.

So despite Z2's protests, I'm going to keep working out in the morning, guilt free.  Hopefully he gets used to it soon.

It's 7:54 and everyone is still asleep.  What a wonky morning!

Working out at night

Is something I completely hate.

I think it's been enough of a trial period.  Over a month now.  I've tried to enjoy the advantages like not worrying that Z2 will get up but honestly, it is so difficult to get up after a long day.  I usually fall asleep with the boys and have to pry myself up to go do my workout.  Then I'm so wired after working out and taking a shower that it takes me forever to get back to sleep.  As a result of it since it taking forever to get to sleep the previous night, I don't get a quiet moment to meditate/journal/chant in the morning because I'm plastered to the bed.  Working out at night relieves the stress of Z2 waking up and disrupting my workout but it adds the stress of thinking about it all day and trying hard to stay up when I know I am mentally and physically exhausted and the (too frequent) disappointment of not being able to get up and therefore missing my workout.  I try to think of how great it is that I can save a couple of minutes in the morning because I shower at night but truth be told, I still feel the need to shower in the morning.  I try to think of how great it is that I can hang out a little bit with the hubby on days when he's off or even when he gets back from work.  It is great . . . well, that's really the thing I'll miss most by going back to morning workouts.  Maybe I could work out at night on days that we might hang out?

Last night, I fell asleep in my clothes and couldn't rouse myself until about 12:30AM. So I went back to sleep with the intention of getting up early.  This morning, I got out of bed at 6:15AM (not that early--I could certainly have gotten up earlier if I had kicked myself in the pants).  Since for the past two days Z2 slept until 7, I figured I could get some exercise in.  The boy got up at 6:30 like he just knew what I was up to.  But I don't think I have much of a choice now.  I'm going to get ready for bed with the boys and go back to waking at 4:45/5:00 to get my workouts in--even if I have to stop before I'm not quite finished.  I am so much more of a morning person.  I just function better in the wee hours of the morning.

Z2 is getting older and I think in the next few months, I'll be able to workout even if he is awake.  Right now if he's awake, he wants all my attention and wants to be up under me.  Z1 "gets" that I'm busy and will amuse himself in some other way or try to join me in exercising (which is a riot, I tell you).  Z2 is getting there so I just have to grit my teeth and get through this challenging time knowing it will turn around soon.

Photo Credit:  "Winter Morning" by withrow on Flickr.com

Tried a new recipe tonight: Honey Baked Lentils

Actually, I've had the recipe for quite a while now. I got it on MDC and I vaguely remember trying it before and not liking it.  But I decided to give it another try and tonight, I had excellent results.  Here's the recipe:


Honey Baked Lentils
1 cup lentils, soaked for a few hours (I used brown)
2 cups water or vegetable stock
2 tbsp honey or maple syrup (I used half turbinado and half maple syrup)
2 tbsp. soy sauce
2 tbsp. olive oil
1/2 tsp powdered ginger
1 clove garlic finely minced
1 small onion chopped 
salt and pepper to taste (I used 1 tsp sea salt and 1/2 tsp red pepper flakes)


Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Combine all ingredients in a glass baking dish.  Bake for 90 minutes.  (The original recipe says to bake covered but I didn't and it came out just fine.)  I added carrots to mine but I imagine you could add a variety of root vegetables and it would be really good.  I also doubled the recipe which fit in a 9" x 14" Pyrex glass baking dish.  It serves about eight adults.   


To go with the honey baked lentils, I made seasoned brown rice.  I just tossed 2 cups of rice in the rice cooker with 5 cups of vegetable broth, a pat of Earth Balance, about 1/4 tsp. sea salt and half of a large onion that I chopped.  Don't have a rice cooker?  Ever heard about baking rice?  I saw Alton Brown do this on his show years ago and seriously, it revolutionized my brown rice cooking life!  The rice comes out perfectly cooked and wonderful.  If I hadn't jacked If my mother hadn't willingly given me her rice cooker (that she wasn't using anyway), I would still be using this excellent method. 

(Don't mind my chipped plate . . . I don't know why it's my favorite plate. I just love it.) 

It was a delicious and easy dinner and I am definitely adding it to my repertoire.  

It's a drool fest!!

Z2 drools a whole lot.  Next month, he will be 2 years old.  He seems to have cut all the teeth he's supposed to have for his age so teething is not the reason, I don't think.  I mean, he's so wet all the time.  Just a little droolfest.  And he keeps his hands in his mouth a lot.  As well as many other objects that shouldn't be in his mouth like leaves and acorns, to name a few.  At two, he still absolutely needs a bib.  It's so much drooling that I think I'm going to bring up at his next doctor's appointment. With winter fast approaching, wet clothes, hands and face are not a good look at all.  I hope Z2 can get a handle on this drooling thing soon.

Being Invisible

Doesn't feel good.  At all.

Yesterday at the playground I saw one of the hubby's good friend's brother. Let's call the good friend Victor and Victor's brother Wellington.  Wellington and I have seen each other a few times before.  The hubby took me by Wellington's house to say hi to his parents (he still lives with his parents even though he's 30+ years old--no comment).  We sat next to each other--I mean right next to each other--at the table at the hubby's other friend's wedding reception.  And when the hubby's good friend had a cookout the last few times, I saw Wellington there.  Well, to me it was a pleasant surprise to see him at the playground.  I called the hubby to tell him that Wellington was at the playground and planned to say hi once I got the chance.  Well, when I got the chance, I waved and smiled at Wellington.

Not one wave of recognition passed over this brother's face.  He hadn't the faintest clue that he had ever seen me before much less that he even knew me.

All right, we've all had those times when you wave at someone and he/she doesn't realize you're waving at them and we've all felt that little flash of embarrassment that ensues.  Well, this was much worse because I felt like Wellington should have at least recognized me.  I mean, he shouldn't have been falling all over himself with joy at having seen me but . . . really?

Anyway, it so happens that right after I got off the phone with the hubby, Victor calls the hubby.  The hubby tells Victor that his brother Wellington is at the playground--that I saw him there.  I suppose Victor calls his brother Wellington to rag on him (What are you doing at the playground?  Trying to recapture your childhood?  Har, har, har!) and mentions that I was there.  Most likely, he had to have his memory jump started because honestly and truly, Wellington hadn't the faintest inkling of a clue as to who I was.

So I go to push Z2 on the swings and Wellington happens to be standing there with a woman and her son/childcare charge.  He tries to strike up conversation and I try not to smirk.  He starts, "Hey you (he has no idea what my name is)!  I haven't seen you in like forever (yeah, dude, I saw you last summer at Victor's)!"  I'm like, "Uh-huh . . . yeah, how have you been?  Great! . . . Excuse me, I have to locate my son."  Z2 is ready to get off the swing (I'm so glad he's mastered the word "off") and so off I go to "locate my son."

I told the hubby the whole story and he basically says something to the effect that Wellington is someone who stands out because of his height (he's 6'4") and that's why he's so easily recognizable.  I, on the other hand, "look like a lot of people" and, apparently, I do not stand out and am quite easy to forget.  Well, the hubby didn't go that far.  He stopped just short of putting his whole entire foot in his mouth.

I mean, the incident didn't bother me at the moment as much as it bothers me tonight.  I know Wellington's failure to recognize me is more of a commentary on him than it is on me.  We've seen in each other in rather intimate social settings on a number of occasions.  Even if he didn't know my name, if he had been looking at me instead of above or through me, he would have recognized me.  Now, I know I am horrible with names but I never, ever forget a face.  I take time to look into people's eyes and notice their expressions.  I try to read people's energy.  I look at people.  Especially in intimate social settings.  If I spend some time next to you, talking to you, and I see you more than once, more than twice, I will remember your face.  I know not everyone does this and I'm trying to not to draw conclusions about people who don't.  Although it's hard not to.

This occurrence was compounded by the fact that at Costco on Tuesday I saw a lady who I'll call Ann that worked the front desk of the main school where I used to substitute teach.  Ann would sometimes see my five days a week.  She kept me working.  And so as a small token of appreciation, I wrote Ann a thank you card and gave her a candle.  While walking down the laundry detergent aisle, I saw Ann.  I smiled.  She looked confused.  And then I realized she didn't recognize me.  But I was okay with it.  She probably saw dozens of substitute teachers a week.  We never had any really close contact.  Never sat down to eat a meal next to each other or anything.  Wellington's failure to recognize was much more . . . problematic.

And, you see, I've been very open on this blog about how I struggle with self-esteem, self-worth and self-confidence.  Wellington not recognizing me was a bit of a blow to my ego.  I mean, in the grand scheme of things, it's not all that important.  The hubby was quick to point out that Wellington doesn't really go for women of color anyway and really prefers White women as dating partners.  He was with a White woman at the playground.  That's fine--whatever rocks your boat.  I wasn't saying I wanted Wellington to be all into me.  In fact, that would be highly inappropriate.  I guess what I was getting at was that I felt invisible.  And in some ways, I feel invisible.  I don't have that confident sass that gets women recognized.  And I don't feel I have such stunning looks that I would be unforgettable.  I'm a dark-skinned Black woman in a society that really doesn't value what I am.  That constantly says what I am is just so nondescript.  So forgettable.  When was the last time you saw a beauty product being advertised by Black women on a channel other than BET?

And these days, I don't have the energy or the ends or the desire to go about doing the things that I suppose would make me less nondescript--like booty hugging jeans or plunging necklines.   Although if I'm really honest, these things did indeed get me noticed but not in any way that I wanted.  And dudes still never remembered my face.

I remember reading in The Knitting Sutra, how the author felt that once she hit middle age, she started to feel invisible because nobody really checks for older women.  I don't think that's necessarily true especially if an older woman takes good care of herself (although I wondered then when I read it if I had  already become invisible to men or if I just don't notice men checking me out because I'm usually hauling kids around or hauling groceries or just plain busy and not interested).   But one powerful thing I did garner from her sentiment and what she did to handle it (which was to perfect her knitting/become a knitting master) is that you can't let other's unwillingness to see you keep you from being authentically you.  I totally get that.  And I totally understand that.

But the incident still messed with me.  And continues to mess with me.

And I surely didn't want to pick a fight with the hubby about what he meant tonight when he said Wellington was so hard to forget that of course I'd recognize him.

So I thought I'd write about it.  At 1:30 in the morning.    And finally I think I can sleep.

Photo Credit:  "Memorias de un hombre invisible" by J on Flickr.com

Nothing like it . . .

Homemade bread, that is! . . .

I baked bread yesterday after a few weeks of buying it.  The summer was pretty busy and so I stopped making bread because I couldn't find time to fit it in.  But I'm back on my bread-baking game and boy am I glad.  Home made bread tastes so much better than store bought.  However, it seems that recently every time I bake bread, I get large holes.  I know that it's air that getting trapped but I'm pretty good about punching the bread down and rolling it very tightly into a loaf.  That's something I'm going to have to troubleshoot.  Nevertheless, the bread is delicious and I'm almost ready to try some new recipes.  Almost.

FO: A wool diaper cover

I haven't been knitting with any kind of consistency this year. With Z2 being as active as he is, it's almost impossible to get into a groove. But, I'm proud to say, I did manage to turn out something, albeit a small thing. It's a knitted wool diaper cover and I imagine it will be one of the last I ever make for my children, at least.

Specifications

Yarn: Filatura Lanarota Chaco (worsted weight)--1 1/2 skeins

Pattern: My Soaker Pattern (which is by far my favorite because it's basic, straightforward with no short rows but plenty of space for even the bulkiest of cloth diapers)

Size: Large/Toddler

Needles: #7 16-inch bamboo circulars which I abhor but which I will continue to use in the name of reaching my goal of saving $10K for each family member--I'll see how long I can make it work

Time: About a week and a half. I had a bit of yarn fiasco, had to stop a whole bunch of times, fought with my needles and was often too tired to do anything but look at it. But it got done.

Overall, I'm very pleased with it. It's quite large and is perfect for Z1 who still needs extra protection when sleeping at night. I'm looking forward to making the Sideways Grande Hat and have placed the book where the pattern was published (Boutique Knits) on reserve at the library. I saw the hat in my KnitPicks catalog and I thought it was stunning. It really caught my eye and it's small enough of a project where it won't drag on forever and a day.

Which is more (much more) than I can say for A Sweater for Emma which is still waiting on me to finish the right sleeve. I have vowed to finish this sweater this year, though. And I will. No I must. The funny thing is we don't even see Emma anymore so . . . is there a point? LoL. A Sweater for Emma taught me one valuable lesson--for large projects, a yarn you enjoy is crucial, no essential. I hate the 100% (cheap) cotton yarn I'm using--it makes the sweater feel like a wasted effort because the yarn just doesn't work well and shows up all the mistakes and unevenness. Ah well. I'll finish for the sake of finishing then move on to more appealing projects.

My new knitting philosophy? Small projects working with yarns I enjoy . This will keep yarn costs down but will keep the craft pleasurable and less frustrating.

When I was in high school . . .

He was just coming on the scene. And you knew then that he was the hotness. His longevity is stunning, at least to me. And when the boys go to sleep, I still enjoy his music. Had a boyfriend once who was an aspiring emcee . . . used to rail against him because he said he never, ever wrote down his rhymes. My boyfriend used to say he was a liar . . . nobody could do that. I don't know. It was hard to hide my admiration for him then and it's hard to hide it now. Oh yeah, I love my roots reggae. Love my classical music. But I also love my . . .

I think he's brilliant in so many ways.

I love this commercial and own almost every album of Jay-Z's. And Z1 absolutely loves this song so even though I can only somewhat tolerate Rhianna's singing, I play the clean (radio edit) version often.

Another use for vodka

We buy vodka around here to make vanilla extract and other tinctures. A few months ago, though, I started to use it as a deodorant and I really love it. A long time ago, I blogged about another liquid deodorant I made with lemon juice. That worked well, but this one works even better. It's basically the same recipe except you replace the lemon juice with vodka and reduce the amounts of essential oils.

All Natural Deodorant Spray

One 4 ounce spray bottle
3 parts lemon juice
1 part water
20 drops tea tree oil

20 drops of another essential oil (I've been using clove oil exclusively--I don't know . . . I like it)

Put everything in a bottle and shake well before each use.

I use this in combination with Kimberlily's Recipe for Cream Deodorant and it works just as well as Secret used to. I use it everyday except on occasions when I really don't want to sweat like if I'm going on an interview and I'll be nervous. For those occasions, I suck it up and use Dove which is, to me, although not as strong as Secret, easy to wash off (unlike Secret).

Just a note: you don't need the greatest vodka in the world for an underarm spray. You might want to get a little better quality for your tinctures and extracts although some sources say there's absolutely no difference in quality. I find that hard to believe though.

Photo Credit: "Tall True Russian Vodka" by True Russian Vodka on Flickr.com

Cast Iron Cookware is the Truth!

To say I love my cast iron cookware would be a huge, massive understatement. My cookware of choice is now and will probably always be cast iron. Some people say that cast iron is too heavy to use on a daily basis but I like to look at moving my cast iron pans and pots as an addition to my other weight lifting exercises. I don't mind it at all. See, cast iron is wonderful. It is the original non-stick cookware and there'll be no scary stories years from now about how the stuff that makes it non-stick will give you cancer or cause brain damage. Nothing sticks to a well-seasoned cast iron pan.

And of course, that's the next complaint folks have . . . taking care of cast iron is a pain. Well, no, that's not true either. Before using cast iron, you've got to season it. Here is a very simple guide to seasoning cast iron. I've never had to re-season my cast iron pans and I don't use lard or bacon grease to do it. I use vegetable shortening and it works well. You don't wash cast iron with soap. I use very hot water and a plastic mesh scrubbie--that's it. I don't let my cast iron air dry either. After I clean them, I just set them over a medium flame and drive off any moisture.

I bought most of my cast iron cookware at (you guessed it) the thrift store and I've really been able to build quite a collection with those pieces and ones that have been handed down to me or just thrown away. Really, even the rustiest of cast iron pans can be revived with some loving care. I did buy my largest cast iron skillet (12") at Bed Bath and Beyond and with a 20% coupon, paid just a touch over $20 which is really excellent considering the price of a top quality non-stick coated skillet.

There are so many good reasons to use cast iron including the trace iron that gets into your food. My cast iron cookware is versatile and, I think most important to me, basic. Your great great grandma may have used cast iron. It is tried and true and I love that.

From grilled cheese to braised greens . . . cast iron cookware is the truth!

Photo Credit: Simple Intergenerational Cookware by Zane Selvans on Flickr.com

On this day 79 years ago

Blessed Coronation Day!

Photo Courtesy of skibriye's on Flickr.com

2010 Fitness Goals?

Yup, I'm already thinking about what I'd like to achieve next year fitness-wise. My main goal next year is to really develop upper body strength. I want to be able to do push ups, chin-ups, planks, side planks, and all that. Right now, I'm barely able although I've come a long way since I started working out consistently in January. As is the case for many women, my upper body is a weak point and most of my strength is in my legs. I'd like a more even distribution and I'm looking forward to the challenge. My arms and shoulders are taking shape nicely and I'm pleased with the definition ("cuts") I'm starting to see. But what I really want are killer arms. :)

I found this useful article while googling tonight. And I've been doing The Trainer's Edge: Long and Lean Yoga by Baron Baptiste which is a huge challenge for me right now. By the end of 2010, I'd at least like to be able to keep up. See, what I love about yoga is that building upper body strength doesn't use weights--just your own body as weight. I agree wholeheartedly with Baptiste that this is a more functional, natural kind of strength-building. And while I don't totally discount lifting weights and enjoy lifting weights, I prefer yoga style strength training.

What are your 2010 fitness goals? Have you thought about it yet?

Photo Courtesy of http://www.thespafitnesscenter.com/myspa/index.html

The Frugal Fashionista?

Is that an oxymoron?

I'm willing to admit that for the last few years, I was not making an effort to look the best I could possibly look. There are a number of reasons but the main reason is that I was trying to be au naturel and also striving for modesty in my dress. Well, recently, I decided I was tired of looking frumpy, blah and old and decided to try to get my game back together. I stopped wearing sweats and workout clothes in public and started making a consistent effort to give myself a once over before I leave the house. It certainly helps my frame of mind and how I feel about myself.

If you read this blog though, you know that frugality has to be one of my top priorities in order for me to continue being a stay-at-home mom. Getting my game back, though, costs some money. I was trying to hook up my makeup game again. Even though I'm not a big makeup person, I realize a little foundation, lip gloss and eyebrow pencil can go a long way to giving you a polished look. But then I also realized I simply do not have $45 to drop on foundations and stuff. I was trying to revamp my wardrobe with some nice pieces. Now, believe me, I don't really shop other places besides the thrift store but I realized something else the other day while reading an excellent blog that I was recently introduced to: Wildflower. She advocates thinking really, really, really hard about every penny you spend and asking yourself, while looking through the lens of potentially difficult times fast approaching, the hard question: do I really need this ? And if you don't, you don't spend that money.

The thrift store is my slow money leak. I try to go on half-off days and all that but any good thrifter knows that the key to doing well at it is going often. So I go having the idea that I need a pair of nice fitting jeans or something. It's not that I don't have jeans but since my body proportions have changed, what I have doesn't fit quite right. I don't find what I was looking for but I do find 3 or 4 children's books, a cute purse, a nice shirt for one of the boys, or a lovely pair of shoes that would go with a particular blouse. I pay the $10 or whatever--it's great because I know that the stuff I have just purchased could easily be worth about $50.

But this is a slow money leak . . . I'm buying things I don't necessarily need. Just buying them because they're nice to have and more importantly, in relation to me upping my look game, it would be a nice addition to my wardrobe--something that would add pizzazz.

I could very well save that $10 or use it to pay for one of the childrens' activities.

But I also want to look cute. I want to accessorize and feel like I'm stepping out when I go out.

I've talked about this before but recently, it's come up again. So I'm asking myself again, how do I find the balance between being frugal and fashionable?

When I'm talking fashionable, don't get the wrong idea. I'm not a trendy person. I like classic looks with a hint of "what's in". And when I'm talking frugal, I'm talking about frugality with the goal of working toward financial security. I'm talking about saving enough money so that if an emergency hits, we can make moves. And even if no emergency ever happens, having financial security in our old age. Being fashionable is not an absolute necessity. I mean, , strictly speaking, neither is having high speed internet but the whole family uses the computer for entertainment, learning and business especially since we don't have cable. I'd say that things would have to be really hard before we got rid of the internet at home. A new pair of hoop earrings? Another bottle of nail polish? An eyebrow wax? I've thought of growing out my hair and getting it braided . . . These things make you feel nice and like a girl. Taken individually, they don't cost much. Frugality, in my mind, says wear the jewelry you have. Says you have enough nail polish. And no one but you notices your eyebrows.

You see, frugality in my mind has never meant being chic. It means being very practical. It means putting out $100 for a good pair of classic winter boots (which you bought at the end-of season clearance sale for $70). They might not match anything--no one would ever say you put together a cute outfit--but you'll be wearing those boots for years to come. Ah, but sometimes I'd rather pay $70 for the cheaply made boots that look oh so flyy with those jeans I managed to score. Is that irresponsible knowing what I know? Have I been tainted by American consumerism? Or is it the simple fact that I'm a woman and wearing cute stuff induces felicity? I'm constantly amused by those TJ Maxx commercials that talk about Maxxinistas . . . a play on the term fashionista and the newer term "frugalista". I mean, really, how important is fashion and being cute when it comes to survival and thriving in difficult times? Is it important at all?

So is it a necessity? Is your cuteness something you need? Something to really consider and take into account when you are trying to prepare for an uncertain future? It's a challenge weighing out those things that make you feel nice against the a very real reality: that the times are a changing and bank will make the change more manageable.

So, yes, I'm on the lookout for other slow money leaks but I've just identified one glaring one. Plug those small money leaks and you can easily sock away another 10%. The hubby's been saying that for years but I don't know, somehow it just clicked in a profound way the other day. Sometimes, someone else has to say it.

Do I plug the leak?

(((insert Z1's best whiney voice here)))But I don't want to!!!!

A little more money in the pocket, though, might just end up feeling better than being a frugal fashionista in the long run.