On Geekery and It Getting Better

  Watching a talk show about bullying got me thinking about my childhood and my hope's for The Peanut's childhood. (The fact that I just admitted to watching a daytime talk show is a completely different story)

My Hippie Ways

  No, I don't bathe in patchouli, wear prairie skirts, and not shave.  Really, it's more natural type of things.
  I only use shampoo and conditioner on my hair about once a week. Ew, right? Don't worry, I still clean my hair and scalp. Between shampoos I use baking soda and a vinegar. It started with me seeing a lot of things online about going "Shampoo Free" At first I thought, gross. Then I started thinking about how my hair has changed since having the Peanut. If I wash my hair every day, my scalp gets amazingly dry, itchy, and tight. If I wash it every other day, then it's all oily and icky. Washing my hair every day and half just seems silly. So I decided to try the 'poo free thing.

Sometimes

I love my Peanut, that I get to stay home and take care of her, that I get to see her do all her amazing/wonderful/silly things.  

But sometimes I wish I could be alone for an entire day. Sometimes I just want her to let me do  what I need to do without having her right on top of me. Sometimes I want to go to the bathroom without "company." Sometimes I want to read a book without pictures and not have to stop to get a glass of juice. Sometimes I want to have a day that doesn't depend on the mood of another being. 

Then the guilt washes over. Sigh. 

Happiness and Gratitude

Life is hard and the world cruel.  No matter how wonderfully fantastic your life is, there will be times when the feeling of emptiness can creep into our lives.  As a upper middle class woman in the United States I think, thank God I don't have to carry water miles from a well, or search for firewood and risk rape or worse.  I have a roof over my head, hot and cold running water, why am I feeling empty? I think it's human nature that at times a darkness comes over us and discontentment rears it's ugly head.   I'm not talking about a clinical depression, but a short term black cloud that seems to hanging over us.  For me I've found, the best way to send that darkness away is to start counting my blessings.  I don't care what god you believe in, but I do mostly believe in the one God, but I'm not opposed to thinking that she's a woman.  Two messages of thankfulness came my way today.

Feel free to insert the deity of your choice for the word "god".  I'm not a terribly religious person.  All I know is that I am the most happy and at my personal best when I make a conscious decision to operate from a center of love and gratitude and forgiveness.  When I'm conscious of being thankful for the food that I really wasn't in the mood to cook for my family or for the ease of an automatic washer and dryer for the laundry that I reaaaallllyyy don't like doing,  it is these times that I know I am better able to handle a stubborn child or a cranky husband.

 

Now mind you, if I did wake up today and find myself with the things I thanked God for yesterday, I'd be hoping that coffee and chocolate would take me a long way.  So yesterday maybe I wasn't glowing with gratitude, and I might not be today either, but I am giving it serious consideration.  

Beautiful women...

I have a theory and I share it often with people I don't think will be offended by "grown up words". That theory is... wait for it... if you're offended by "grown up words" stop reading now... okay, here it is... For every beautiful woman, there's a man standing next to her that's tired of fucking her. That's right. Brad Pitt is tired of fucking Angelina Jolie. Jay-Z is tired of fucking Beyonce. Don't get me started on Tiger Woods. I'm not saying the reverse isn't true. Angie might roll her eyes and claim she has her period. Beyonce might pretend to be asleep. And don't get me started on Tiger Woods. My point here is not only the original point that for every beautiful woman, there's a man standing next to her that's tired of fucking her, but also to remind myself (and maybe you) that what looks like a perfect life probably isn't. We never know what goes on behind closed doors. That other mom/wife/daughter/sister/friend who has everything all together really doesn't. That woman who always looks immaculate isn't. Everyone has problems and when we measure ourselves against the imagined perfection of others, we'll always fail. You know what? I kind of like me. I'm judgemental and a bitch. I'm also fiercely loyal and loving. All in all, I'm not tired of fucking me.

Chopsticks.

In true Singing Princess Astronaut style, I did some house work wearing my tiara. Sometimes it's the little things that make life more fun.
Oh, I am also perfecting my left-handed chop stick using technique. Because I want to add ambidextrous chopstick use to the pointless skills list on my resume.

My first...

I'd like to thank Becca and Colleen for this invitation to the SPA blog.  We SPA'ers are an interesting bunch.  We can sing, are princesses (I'm sure there will be tiara photos somewhere) and could be astronauts, or anything else in this world that we would find it necessary to be.  Stay tuned.