Bucket O' Gel

I hate washing my hair. There I said it. Why? Because it is an involved process that takes on the average over an hour. Frankly, I only have so much time in my day.

My husband after 18 years together, gives me a heads up for events. "We are expected at 6pm. It's noon now. We need to be on the road at 5pm. If you're doing something with your hair, you should probably start with that program." I used to get fussy with him and his annoying spot on observation of my conflicted relationship with my hair. But he's right. Just don't tell him.

On said day above, over coffee: me and he warm milk- we watched daddy leave the room after voicing his Momma's hair thoughts. 

Babyhead was silent for a moment. "Momma? While you make yourself pretty, can I use your wiggly stuff bucket for my science experiment?" "What bucket of what?" I asked, distracted by the clock, knowing I should get a jump on my curls. "You know the bucket that makes your hair look normal." His little hand reached onto my plate and ate my last strip of crisp bacon. "Normal??" "Yeah" he responded, talking through the bacon. "Like I come into the bathroom and it's everywhere, and after that wiggly clear stuff I can see your face".  

Oh right. THAT wiggly magic stuff. That would be my ECO Hair Gel.  My savior. My only reason I'm able to wear a hat. Without it I'm lost. I've used it for over 18 years, loving and appreciating it every minute. It's amazing on curly thick coarse hair. It doesn't flake or build up-it slicks down an Afro in mere moments- just get it wet and pack on the ECO gel. Apply it liberally and twist those curls- let your hair dry and viola!!! Perfect bouncin' and behavin' hair! I have told every woman with hair like mine about it and every mother of a child that's like me or has hair like me. I am compelled to do so because this stuff is life changing. Really!!

Being bi-racial, it was complicated for my sweet mama from South Dakota to work out my hair when I was young, that is another 100 posts😳, but suffice to say if we had had this gel, my childhood hair trauma wounds would have been practically non-existent.  

It comes in 5 different holds. I use the super hold pink on Babyhead, while I swear by the yellow Moroccan Argan Oil.

So run don't walk and pick up some ECO Hair Gel. Go ahead, you deserve to be able to contain that wild hair and "see your face".

Forever Young

As I sit here looking at my birthday in my rear view mirror, I am struck by how quickly the years are passing. It's all good of course because what is the alternative, especially when you have a little someone following your every move. 

A few days after my birthday Babyhead came up to me as I sat at my desk paying bills. He got in my lap and picked up a card that was one of my favorites. "What does forever young mean?" He asked which were the words on the front. "Well, I guess as we get older we like to think we will be forever young." He stared at me for a long time. "I wish you would turn 30 over and over again!" he said with a little frown. I asked him why and he responded, "So you will always be with me." I wanted to cry because how earnest he was and the sweet way he studied my face. " But Momma, it looks like you ARE 30 every year." 

And that my friends is why you love your little babies, especially your mama's boys because they are so biased, it warms the depth of your heart and ego. But, I don't really want to be 30 every year, but I can cheat it with the amazing Murad Resurgence skincare line.

I got caught 2 years ago watching Joan Lunden sell it but hard on an infomercial at 1:30 in the morning. Being an intimate master of the genre, having worked on SO many throughout the years, I am a serious skeptic, yet I was impressed by the testimonials.

Well...Honey it works!! My skin changed within a month, little lines were less pronounced, and my face was dewy again like years past. So...run don't walk, go get your 30 on and tell them I sent you!

GB ByeBye

I've been laying in bed a lot. Not because I'm lazy or tired but because yes, I had my gallbladder out a few weeks ago. And I must say it was harder than everyone said it would be. 

I had been having problems for quite a while and didn't know it, so when my gallbladder attack happened Christmas Eve and I realized it wasn't the flu, I knew I had to have it checked out. Babyhead has been worried, so much so that we couldn't even speak the word "surgery". We had to refer to said word with the word "blank". He's 7. That is how he copes. 

Anyway, it's best to elect to have surgery than to have the gallbladder burst and risk all sorts of horrible scenarios, so I did just that. I worked everyday up to the dreaded date, losing 10 lbs. in the process (there's a silver lining to everything people- which actually I am using as my springboard to fitness, but that's another post). 

You hear all sorts of things from people when one is confronted with adversity etc. One of the worst for me was that the surgery was "a piece of cake." Huh? In who's world? It's surgery for heavens sake!! They enter your body from 5 different points, I look like a drive by, my body riddled with bullets! Really? I'm still trying to figure out my new options for a bikini! 

Well anyway, when I was told about the surgery prep by my nurse at my pre-op appointment I was worried. I'll tell you now- one of the hardest parts of having surgery was of course the surgery itself, BUT one of the other hardest things that I lamented over was the banning of ALL products! No body lotion, no skin care, no eye cream, no perfumes, and worst of all--- NO HAIR PRODUCT!!! WHAT????

The night before my surgery I was getting ready for bed using the strange sterile shower soap one must use that night and in the AM before you leave for the hospital, when I noticed Babyhead standing staring at me in the bathroom doorway. I was attempting to run a pick (yeah--think 1979) through the twisted storm on my head which was my hair. 

"Momma? What's wrong with your hair? Where are the curls ? It looks like a big dry cotton ball!!" He commenced to giggling and ran off as I stared at my Afro because honey, that's what it was. I use on average 3-4 products daily just to get a handle on it. I can't wear hats unless I use practically a bucket of gel to contain it. But did you know gel especially is flammable in the OR? Who knew? My mom, a retired CCRN knows me so well, even called that night and said "you better not put anything in your hair- it's too dangerous!" 

Huh? I seemed to be saying that lot during this journey. NO hair product ?? I was having nightmares of trying to just fit my hair under the surgery cap when I'd wake up in a cold sweat! My husband would just look at me as I ranted about the unbelievable notion of no products and say "Baby- it's One day!" Look- how can he understand? He shaves his head 2x a week!! 

After Babyhead's outburst I realized the product I missed and needed most of all: MoroccanOil Curl Defining Cream--if you have curly hair this product will change your life! It changed mine!! My hair dresser TT from Vain hipped me to it about 2 years ago and I've never looked back. I leave it in just after shampooing--and it makes every curl look fabulous!! I use the oil too. And it smells devine! I use it on Babyhead and people are constantly asking what do I put in his hair- it smells so yummy!! 

I'm doing so much better after surgery and I have a newfound respect for the role our products play in our lives. And quiet as it's kept, I put just a teeny teeny bit in my hair that night before I secured it in little Afro puffs. Shhh- don't tell.

Run don't walk and pick up this magical bottle-----you're welcome.

Write On!!!

It's been awhile, actually a long while since my last post. I had so much stuff going on the last 6 months, some days I wish I could clone myself 8 times just to stay on top of things. Last night Babyhead said to me: "Momma, how come I haven't seen you writing lately?" I asked why was he asking and he responded: "Well, when you write at your desk you are always smiling, so I think you're happy when you write." Out of the mouths of babes. 

So I step back into the fray in a good way( I've been weirdly rhyming the past week or so, don't know what's up with that). I think going forth I'm just going to sit down and let the words carry me, sometimes giving beauty advice, momma advice, favorite things beauty and beyond, cool girl thoughts or what ever happens to fly through my brain at the moment my fingers hit the not real keys of my iPad. I found an old photo of me sitting at my college typewriter-yes you read that right-typewriter- and Babyhead asked what that machine was. He said it kind of looked like a computer, but where was the screen? Sigh. I'd best pull out some vinyl so he can see what his parents used to seriously jam to. History my friend, goes a long way. 

The three of us sat down this past weekend to do our goals. One of many of mine was to post on my blog more regularly and to expand my blog, so look for that coming up. As I learn to express myself in this medium, and let me tell you, technology is NOT my strong suite, please bear with me since we are all in this together.

Since we last chatted I am on my quest to go lighter with my darn graying head of hair, so that is going great. It's cool feeling like a new and more creative you. It's pushed me to adjust my makeup, but that just keeps you fresh. I think my husband is enjoying the constantly evolving new me, so that also is a plus!

My super cool pick this week via Babyhead's original question from above, is Moleskine notebooks. I first purchased one last year, and have since become addicted. They come in a variety of sizes and colors, lined or unlined. I still am old school-I like to take notes! Wow! I like to actually WRITE down, yep, using a pen, that's right-my thoughts, things to do, lists, ideas-you name it! My sister Kristi gave me this one posted for Christmas and it's become a Fav. 

If Moleskine was good enough for Hemingway, Picasso and Vincent Van Gogh, by gosh, it's good enough for me!!

Run don't walk to your computer, just google them and get a few for yourself! 

Volcanoe Inspiration

Babyhead has always been fascinated with volcanoes, and as a good mother I've tried to expose him to interesting ways to keep this interest alive. We've watched many a show on the discovery channel, checked out countless books on volcanoes, and googled more famous volcanoes than I care to really know about, all in the hope that Babyhead knows everything he can about this subject.

One day last spring I found Babyhead at the kitchen table, pens and crayons strewn about. His large drawing tablet was open and he was creating a masterpiece, my talented boy! It appeared to be a large mountain with a red top, fissures of what seemed to be lava pouring out all over. When I asked him what it was he replied: " a volcanoe momma, can't you tell?" I said yes and stared at the picture again. "What is this round part, outside the volcanoe, and these things?" I pointed to the paper. "It's you momma-your two eyes, nose and mouth." "Well where does the volcanoe come in and why is it so big?" I asked. He looked at me and then picked up a crayon, adding more red to the top of the mountain. "It's the volcanoe on your cheek I was drawing." His sweet face stared at my face for a long moment and then looked down at the paper and proceeded to color furiously. "Thank you momma for helping me draw my volcanoe."

I stood there rooted to the spot processing what had just transpired. Yes, it was true I had a "pimple" on my cheek that I unfortunately made the poor choice to pick and make bigger and badder. Yes, I had piled concealer on the terrible offense, fooling myself that no one could really notice the obvious mountain on my face. And yes, I had run out of Zapzyt, my favorite face volcanoe product awhile ago, meaning to pick some up when I'd next made it to Riteaid. I should have made a special trip, for if I had there would be no mountain on my face. Zapzyt has been my secret weapon for years. A teeny application to the spot 3-4 times a day for a week and poof-said pimple dries up and disappears. But, on the other hand, had I treated this pimple, then Babyhead would not have been inspired to create, and in the end isn't that what's important? Being a good Momma and be inspiring?

Run don't walk and pick up my secret Zapzyt. No more Volcanoe face. Ever.

SpiderMomma

After spending 5 hours in the garden this past mother's day weekend, and it was truly a fabulous weekend may I add-Babyhead outdid himself in the creative make-a-gift department; I was reminded of something when Babyhead was well, a baby.

Being in the garden battling crabgrass, over producing bluebells, bees, beetles and the like, my biggest issue is...spiders. Yes. I have a phobia. Nothing like my sister's which is so bad she once called the fire department, but that's another story, it is still pretty bad. I am lucky that I have 5 able bodied spider assassins at the ready. My youngest stepson has been handling my screams and screeches since he about 5-he's 16 now, running from anywhere in the house upon hearing my scream, calmly asking me: "where is it?" in his little froggy voice.

I hate spiders.
They're so sneaky, turning up when you least expect it, in strange areas, I can hardly deal.

Ok-back to Babyhead. I think he was about 14 months and I was doing some random thing like washing his binky at the kitchen sink for the millionth time. I was holding him-the mama left hip hold when he pointed at what I thought was the window and yelled, or he may have bellowed, it was too close to call: "Spidermomma!" In the words of my Grandmother, I liked to die! I screamed, he screamed-again- and I just about dropped him on his sweet head, scrambling to put as much distance from me and the window. We ended up in the living room, me panting from the exersion and extreme trauma and he big eyed chewing on his tiny fist, drool pooling on my shirt. " Where did you see the spider baby? Show momma!"

He pointed his little finger right at me, and in my confusion I said "Where? Is it on me? In my hair?" I started hopping about when he said quietly "stop. eye. momma." He pointed again at my eye. "Spider".

I ran to the mirror and looked at myself. I then began to laugh, that deep belly laugh that you tried to hide in childhood because it was just too embarrassing. I had to admit Babyhead was right. My eyes may look to him, a baby, like spiders. To me, a seasoned makeup pro I just saw fantastic mascara, the mascara I've used on me and on set forever and a day: "L'Oreal Voluminous Mascara. It thickens and lengthens like crazy. I prefer carbon black, but will use blackest black in a pinch. Sure it was unsettling every time he would yell out "spider!", but I grew used to it and smiled every time, even referring my fav mascara to complete strangers at the grocery store when he would let out a "SpiderMomma!!!" in line. Hey, he helps spread the word to better lashes I figured, and that can only be good to all the ladies in need.

So today, run don't walk and pick up some L'Oreal Voluminous Mascara... Spiders be damned!

Birthday Friend

Today is my birthday!!! Yeah!!! I used to celebrate my day anyway I wanted. Then I realized I needed more. So my birthday week was born. Through the years that was cool, but somewhere along the way it just wasn't enough. Even a birthday month wasn't enough!

The years were passing but quick and each birthday I would look in the mirror and see my image slowly change. I wasn't a young girl anymore. I was a woman.

Ok I thought, this has got to be adjusted. I guess I was mumbling to myself that year because both my husband and Babyhead both said together: "what?" I stared blankly at their identical faces and said "this birthday thing." And my birthday season was born.

Then tonight Babyhead asked me a great question: who have I known the longest? I sat and pondered the answer. I thought about my friends and family and all the people I've met through these many years I've been skipping about on this earth. Then I thought about the way I reviewed my face every year, being in the beauty biz and all. I had a good answer. There has been one good friend that has stood by me all these crazy years, from adolescence to just this morning when I looked in my bathroom mirror. This friend has watched me grow from a kid to a girl to a woman. From a bride to a wife and from a wife to a mother. This friend was never hard on me, but soothed me through the many phases I've passed through, and most of all never judged me. Instead took care of me so that I could look in the mirror and be pleasantly surprised that I still looked like myself, even though it felt like the years were careening out of control. This friend helped keep me together during times of stress and change, always the same always a constant. I grew to appreciate what importance this friend had in my world. Consistency. Tenderness. Softness. I rambled on as Babyhead stared at me eyes glazed over. "Who Momma?" Babyhead asked, "who is it? Do I know them?" I was about to answer before the phone rang and off he ran to talk to Grandma. Suddenly I was alone in the kitchen. I walked quietly into the bathroom and pulled out my dear friend.

My Cetaphil.

She's been with me since I was about 9 years old, when eczema made me hate looking in the mirror. She healed me. She removed make-up I had no business wearing through my 20's. She made sure I ALWAYS went to bed barefaced, almost every night for as long as I can remember. She stayed with me through almost every day of my life-it's true.

My face belongs to her and I'm good with that. Happy birthday to us!!!