Babies In Baskets

I’m not much of a student. I like school alright – I get to see my friends and often the teachers are friends of the family. Honestly, I learn just fine – when it’s a topic I care to learn. Why do I have to learn how to sound out vowels & consonants when I can read the words perfectly as they sit on the page? I’m frustrated by the little squiggles and slash marks over the vowels and can’t really wrap my head around this. I can’t wait to get home. Eula Dean will be there.
Eula Dean is our “housekeeper” and occasional nanny, though we don’t call her that. We just call her Dean, even though most people call her Eula or Puddin’. When I see her car parked in front of the house, I haul ass to wherever she’s at (often scrubbing a tub or wiping the wooden handrails with lemon Pledge.) She’s part of our family, part of who we are and despite living on the other side of town from us, we are particularly lost without her. She is firm and insists on good behavior – she has no qualms about swatting my butt when I’ve stepped out of line, but there’s no doubt in my mind that she loves us. She tells me often I’m her favorite little white girl and I tell her she looks just like the woman on the Aunt Jemima Butter Lite Syrup bottle. She croons a belly laugh and while she’s wiping the tears from her eyes, she tells me “All you white people look alike too.” The best way to describe how she loves us is the way that she will come find me after a bad day at school. Dean innocently enters my bedroom to “lemon Pledge” something else and finds me sprawled on my tummy across my bed, hiding my tear stained cheeks in the crook of my elbow. Dean refuses to cautiously wait for an invitation. Her method is to scoop me up in her arms (even though I’m growing too big to be ‘scooped’ in anyone’s arms) and sit on the bed rocking me until the muffled sobs have turned into breathy attempts at composure. And I’ll be okay because of her.

            When Mom and Dad go out of town on business, Dean becomes our surrogate. Our meals are no longer eaten in restaurants - they morph into fried chicken or ham, spinach or green beans, cornbread and huge glasses of milk. We usually end up on the other side of town to join her at church – which I love! She lets me sing in church choir with her, swaying back and forth with the other altos and surprised by the sudden “Oh, yes sir!” or  “Amen!” that will be belted out during a good harmony or heartfelt lesson. She likes to “gussie me up” and braid my hair into multiple ponytails coming out of every side of my head as she watches her soap operas and puffs on a Marlboro. I am well taken care of – as are my brothers. Dean is ours and we are hers. To us, a comforting smell is that of stale cigarettes and Lemon Oil.

My bike is sparkly pink with a big white basket that I fully intend to carry a bunny rabbit in (as soon as I find and catch one.) I’m no stranger to animal capture. Not but a few weeks ago, I snuck a kitten up to my bedroom. I planned to feed it milk through a bottle and be so good to it that it’d never leave. That was short lived. I hadn’t planned on dealing with kitten bathroom issues. It must’ve been sick because within just a few minutes, it had leaked diarrhea all over my white shorts. Mom often wanted to know exactly what composed of the stains on our clothing so she could get them out. I can’t imagine surviving that conversation when I revealed it was “kitty cat diarrhea” so I changed my clothes and discarded the shorts in the alley dumpster. I returned the kitten where I’d found it and went on with my day.

Mom is pregnant and I will soon have a baby brother or sister. I figure it’d be best if I laid the animal-in-the-bike-basket plans to rest and just plan on driving the new baby around in that plasticbike basket. I announce my plans to Mom and she quickly suggests that I can certainly transport diapers in the basket, but not the baby. Somehow, that doesn’t sound near as fun. 

Baby Jessica Recounts.

Every morning in the small town of Pampa, Texas, I wake up in the flowers of my room. Today would be no different – as I opened my eyes, the pink and green wall-paper that my mother had carefully selected greeted me as it always did and the window light filtered through the venetian blinds softly so that I could open my eyes slowly and gently. Most little girls would love to live in my bedroom. My dresser drawers were covered in green gingham to match the pink and green theme. A small Jenny Lind table and chairs holds the bust of the lifesize Barbie head that I play ‘hairdresser’ with. A white toy box with my name printed in pink serves as a window seat. Looking out my window is one of the things I frequently spend 5 minute blocks of time doing since being on the second floor gives me the ability to see into our neighbor’s back yard. They never mow the back yard. Just the front yard. I suppose that’s partly why my neighbor friend always plays in ours. I’m glad she does.

I have an extension on my light switch so that I can reach it and turn my bedroom lights on and off. I’m not quite tall enough. My absolute favorite thing is a medium sized round plastic toybox, hot pink on bottom – but the best part is the doll house feature on top. I will save this for my own children one day.

I scamper down the stairs in my nightgown. It’s easy to scamper with great speed. Carpeted stairs just make me feel more sure-footed somehow. I’m hungry and I know Daddy’s probably awake and ready to make my breakfast. I enter the kitchen and see him (still in his bedtime clothing) rinsing something at the sink. My Daddy and I are tight. Like best friends. We hug ‘good morning’ and he asks if I’d like some eggs. I nod my head and he brings a large glass of milk for me to sip as he begins preparing my breakfast. I daydream. I don’t much care to visit this early. I’ll probably grow up to be a coffee drinker. It seems to wake up Grandma and Grandpa just fine.

The microwave beeps and I vaguely hear the door to the microwave close. My daydreams are halted when a hot bowl of microwaved scrambled eggs is placed in front of me. I devour them – Dad’s eggs are the best. Of course, no one makes eggs as often as he, so I don’t have much of a comparison to go by. I spend the night with Grandma and Grandpa pretty frequently. Grandma makes eggs in the pan and there’s always a slice of steak on my plate – and buttered toast. Dad must’ve loved growing up with her cooking!

I will go to school today. Daddy gently instructs me to go get ready for school – “and don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

I climb the stairs, pausing at the landing to play with the handrail. I want to make that squeaky sound of my sweaty hand creating friction on the lacquered wood. I remember my task and quickly zoom up the stairs before anyone tells me to get to it.

Mom always selects my clothing the night before. I see my outfit hanging on the handle of the louvered closet door, remove it from the hanger and put my clothes on.

It only feels like I’ve been in my room for five minutes but I’ve been daydreaming. I can hear my mother holler up the stairs to hurry me along. I jaunt across the hall to brush my teeth and check out Uncle Randy and Uncle Wayne. Uncle Randy and Uncle Wayne are my uncles. They passed away a few years ago in a plane crash but somehow I’ve found their silhouettes in the foiled orange and brown wall-paper of my bathroom. There are little sratches of missing wallpaper right next to the bathtub that resemble their profiles and I find good comfort in having such access to my uncles. I pointed it out to Dad once when he was giving me a bath, but he doesn’t like to talk about Uncle Wayne (his brother) or Uncle Randy. He must still be very, very sad. I try not to push it. I hope we never get rid of this wall-paper. It’ll be a death all over again.

I cannot style my own hair yet, so I see how quickly I can reach the bottom of the stairs. I hear Jason, my big brother talking to Dad in the kitchen, but I have to go see Mom for my hair-do. I am bringing the bow that was in the shirt pocket of my outfit. Mom is in her nightgown standing in the bathroom ready to do my hair. She’s standing next to a mug of hot tea (as she drinks every single morning.) The hairbrush is red and black and the bristles are a bit too long for my small head. It kind of hurts but I don’t want to complain so I watch mom in the mirror. She sticks her tongue out as she styles my hair. It looks bad, so I snicker. She looks in the mirror to see what I’m giggling about and pops her tongue back in her mouth. (That’s just what she does when she’s concentrating or busy.) Mom is finished so she gives me a love pat on my hiney and says “I love you, ladybug.” “I love you too, Mommy. Bye!”

I walk down the open hallway and find my coat slung across the banister that divides the dining room from the hallway. I slip into the piano room to grab my backpack from its’ proper place and wander into the kitchen. I suppose Jason is gone since Dad’s the only one in the room. He’s microwaving water for his hot tea. I can hear the diesel of his suburban growling. That growl is my ride to school.

Dad pulls up in front of the school. I look at him and he looks at me as he suddenly pops a finger into his mouth, moistens it and scrubs a bit of toothpaste from my chin. “I love you! Have a grand-slam day”(which is code for make perfect 100 grades today.) “I love you too Dad! I will!” I climb out of my seat and onto the curb. “Want me to bring a shrimp pizza to school?” Boy, do I ever! I grin big “YES! Yes! Oh thank you!”

Sometimes Dad and grandpa will come have lunch with me at school. You see, they work together at the family oil and gas business. They’re able to take longer breaks and treat me to special lunches. And they frequently do, especially when the cafeteria serves pigs in a blanket. And they share well. The kids who happen to be sitting next to me when Dad brings pizza will likely enjoy a few slices of pizza too… if they like shrimp. That’s Dad’s and my thing. We love shrimp. Dad’s a sailor and I’m his little mermaid. He’s got a J boat – 24 feet, we frequent Lake Meredith and often spend an entire summer in Corpus Christi – the best place I’ve ever been! We just swim and sail and if we’re with mom, we shop! Swim, sail, shop. We share this love of ocean, seafood, sunshine, and sand. It’s special that the Pampa Pizza Hut reserves shrimp for this special request – it brings a bit of the beach to this cowboy/roughneck town. 

Oprah's Gone. It's My Turn.

Now that my four o'clock time slot no longer contains an Oprah episode, it's time for Jessica's Favorite Things to surface.

Let's talk personal care!

• Melaleuca Original Shampoo  -  http://www.melaleuca.com/ProductStore/Product.aspx?sku=4906          This stuff is just the absolute best. I love how clean it rinses. I love how my scalp feels when I've gotten a great lather. I just feel CLEAN. But an alternative option (when I'm out of "Mel" would be Paul Mitchell's formula...  http://www.amazon.com/Paul-Mitchell-Special-Shampoo-Ounce/dp/B000MD65FO  

Runner up

• Neolia Organic Olive Oil Body Wash 

This stuff is Ahhhh-mazing! It smells like little drops of Heaven and it's a dual-purpose time-saver. It's perfect for a great, moisturizing lather and blissful for shaving. 

• Body Lotion

I love this. It's completely non-greasy and there's not a chemical one! Seriously. You could eat this stuff. And it smells like an orange creamsicle as you're applying it. And then you're golden. You smell NOTHING! I use it on my baby since her skin is SUPER sensitive and tends toward eczema. No flare ups! I especially love to buy it when Suzanne offers her bulk discounts. 

And if you're avoiding un-necessary chemicals - the 30 SPF facial sunscreen is so freaking amazing, effective longer than even greater SPF's. It's mineral-based and stays on ALL DAY LONG! You can buy it at www.SuzanneSomers.com or www.ShopNBC.com

• Crystalift Microdermabrasion Machine - This sucker uses the crystals from baking soda. That's it. Baking Soda. No chems. A small ergonomic wand glides across your face delivering the intensity you select using the abrasion from baking soda crystals to gently "sand" the top layer of dead skin from your complexion. The best part? It sucks it right off with a gentle vacuum at the same time so it's mess-free. The used baking soda collects in a reservoir that you simply toss in the trash when done. You can use it almost anywhere and can be used once a week. 

• Clarisonic Complexion Brush - After a long day of wearing makeup, sometimes your cleanser doesn't remove it all. Enter the Clarisonic. It's made by the same people who have provided us with our Sonicare toothbrushes.. Philips! This baby is perfect for daily use, in the shower (slough those knees and elbows using a different brush head.) It comes with the Clarisonic line of facial cleanser, but works with your favorite facial cleanser, which leads me to...

• TOTALLY COUNTER-INTUITIVE, right? I know. But DHC's Deep Cleansing Oil is the best. The oils combine with the dirt and oils on your skin, emulsifying and rinsing completely clean. When you dry your skin off and do the skeptical touch to determine if your skin feels like a oily zit farm, you'll be knocked right out of your socks. It's amazing. You'll have never felt cleaner!!!

• Suzanne's Bioactive Moisturizer is light, airy, whippy... perfect. It's gonna be a summer staple for sure. Again - you can spread this on a bagel and eat it. Totally chem-free. Refreshing citrus scent. 

BUT when you want something for REALLY dry skin...

• Enter DHC's Olive Virgin Oil. Again with the counter-intuition. It's fabulous and not at all what you're thinking. This is not the stuff you cook with. It's straight olive oil. You got that part right. However, this stuff does not coat your skin. Your skin literally drinks it in like it's in the Sahara Desert. It's fabulous and a major part of my life. Order it right off of DHC's website and they'll always include free samples. 

And then we also have to smell nice. 

• Wysong Dry Deodorant Catalyst (for humans) or any of their deodorants containing:  Mineral Salts, Methylated Organic Sulfur (MSM), Desiccated Sea Plankton, Aloe Vera are insanely effective for those who tend towards hyperhidrosis (excessive perspiration.)  It's so effective that you can actually dial the amount of help you need. I learned this when I was just dousing my armpits with the catalyst dry. I started to notice the natural moisture under my arms was leaving and I was beginning to feel uncomfortable and bruised under my arms. I came to learn there was such a thing as 'too much.' I now dust only a few sprinkles onto my Tom's Of Maine Aluminum-free solid stick deodorant and apply that way. But I'm dying to try Wysong's others. Maybe the crystal stick next time?  The other benefit is that since it does NOT contain aluminum, you will NEVER EVER deal with those YELLOW UNDERARM STAINS ON YOUR WHITE SHIRTS AGAIN! Mother nature knows best. 

• It's time to hit Sephora for their LaVanila stash. LaVanila is the HEALTHY perfume people. Instead of allowing the transdermal consumption of chemicals with your conventional perfume, this stuff benefits your skin. (They also make deodorant, lotions and sunscreens in a variety of LaVanila flavors.)

• Burt's Bees Honey Perfume - it smells great and does no harm - it's un-tinted to boot, so men will partake too! This goes absolutely anywhere! And if you're going to be in the sun, try Burt's Bee's Lifeguard's Choice - it goes on thick and zinc like (color free)

AND now - One little naughty pleasure. 

• LORAC Multiplex Lipgloss in 3D - There's really no one this stuff doesn't look good on. No one. It delivers shine and moisture. (But it's a conventional product chock-full-of-chems, so it's definitely not my daily driver.) If you are interested in chem-free cosmetics, check out www.PureBodySolutions.com and go hog wild - their buyers research and test before carrying each product! 

These are my favorite body care products.... and the list is ever-growing! 

A little Girl & An Ice Cream Cone

Gigi enjoyed her very first ice cream cone. FIRST. CONE. EVER.

"What's in your hand, mama? Is it for ME?!?" 

"Holy cow! I can't even speak!" 

Chocolate Face. 

Ears (check.) Eczema (wh..a...?)

Gigi had her followup appointment this morning. At 9:15. A.M.
And that's hard. She didn't really want to fall asleep until well after midnight.
And then I couldn't really sleep. My mind was on for the rest of the night.
Sucks.
Coulda been pretty cool if it'd made for some crazy dreams.
But nah. Just woke up tired today. So that made a 9:15 a.m. appointment kinda treacherous.
But we made it. Walked in at 9:12, waited in the waiting room for 15 minutes and then spent another half-hour in the patient room waiting for the doctor. That's actually pretty good. Most doctors make you wait about an hour and a half. Even the good ones out here.
Sometimes I wonder if doctors stick it to us on the time thing because the insurance companies are sticking it to them on the money/coverage thing. I've often wondered if it's just some sort of meanderthon that makes them feel better about their profession. They all probably went into medicine because they 'wanted to help people.' Pretty sure that stuff gets shuffled among all the paperwork and prescriptions. I don't know. But I do know this. NEVER once. Never. Not even when I broke my back. Not once have I ever entered a doctor's office and been seen even remotely close to the time that I was scheduled at. It doesn't really bother me anymore. And I don't recall ever receiving an apology for the wasted moments in the exam room or after sitting next to the sniffly obese woman smelling of curry in the waiting area. It amuses me, as do tongue depressors.
Gigi's ears are looking better. We were prescribed some drops for her left ear though. Help it heal a little more.
And then we discussed the itchy patches on Gigi's arm. (Not detergent, thank you - we've been 'pure and free' for quite some time. Even before it became cool.)
Labeled eczema and was sent to collect the following items from Walgreens: Aquafor ointment/lotion, hydrocortisone creme & Neosporin. Plus a bottle of yellow Gatorade to entice the two-year-old into behaving through the checkout.
Time for a nap. Yeah. I got your Valentine right here and it starts with Zzzzzzzz.

Gigi's got her very first round of ear infections along with a cold, which means my lap is home base, my shoulder is sporting the shiny remnants of the last time she decided to wipe her nose on me, and the house is covered in germy shredded Kleenex (c'mon, we ARE talking about Gigi here.)
The kid is nuts about Barney & Friends and in the continual replay mode that it's in, I just happened to notice the idea bench - and now I want a Barney & Friends Idea Bench of my VERY own! 

1. It rotates/spins.
2. Only two people can sit at it. BONUS!
3. It's a cool river blue color. 
4. Its' base is a tree stump. 
5. It's "S" shaped.
6. It rotates/spins. 

Back to nose-wiping, laundry, and kitchen clean-up. Talk to ya later. 

Holy Cow - Letter On My Doorstep...

Click here if you'd like to see (something sensitive and private) what I'm talking about...