Author: he brought me ice cream

For the Love of Glee

Posted by

3

Years ago, I took a brief detour away from beloved Karen Kane for a job that turned out to be nothing short of misery. My core beliefs clashed with office policies and I could not adapt to certain things that made me uncomfortable. It grew to the point of me being incapable to make a decision. I am not kidding when I say that my refuge, aside from my husband, was television. In particular, Beverly Hills 90210 reruns. Television gets a bad rap. There are articles written about how it rots brains, etc. Have you ever thought that if you saw a live, staged episode of your favorite tv show, it would be called a play? Munch on that one for a moment….Television was therapy for me those LONG 6 months.
In 2009 a television show came on the scene that changed what we expected from a series and introduced a nation to what a select few of us already knew was fabulous: show choir/swing choir/glee club. Aside from numbers being perfectly executed in a week’s time, some of what “Glee” showed was remarkably true. Social standings from the hallway never mattered in the choir room. The choir room was a refuge. I passionately loved high school and did not want to leave, but like all teens, there were tough times. I forgot the words to the National Anthem in front of the entire school. My choir friends consoled me. A girl in my grade did not like me for a month. My choir friends wrapped me in their friendships. A breakup was never that awful while practicing your favorite songs for an upcoming competition. I participated in many things during high school, but show choir was my very favorite. “Glee” made show choir cool and exposed what some of us have loved for years to many generations at one time. It brings all genres of music to us weekly, and makes school fun.

choir
My heart broke today when I read that Cory Monteith died. I loved him on “Glee.” Through his character, I recognized different boys I knew from my own days. He had such a sweetness to him. Because everything now revolves around my child, I mourn for his mother and wonder if she is thinking about her child as a baby. My own mother wondered if it would impact teenagers to stay away from drugs. I think not, but I think it can inspire us as parents to work harder, to be more present, to be enough. I heard that somewhere, to be enough, and it stuck with me. Please let me be enough of a disciplinarian to keep him safe. Please let me inspire him enough to help him find his own passion. Please let me show him enough of my love so he always knows his self- worth.

choir2

At the end of the school year, there was a song that was always sung and it was really in honor of the members who were graduating. It has been running through my mind as I think of the artist lost. It wasn’t a good bye as much as it was passing on to another phase of life. Rest in Peace Cory and let the river run.

“Let The River Run”
We’re coming to the edge,
Running on the water,
Coming through the fog,
Your sons and daughters.

Let the river run,
Let all the dreamers
Wake the nation.
Come, the New Jerusalem.

Silver cities rise,
The morning lights
The streets that meet them,
And sirens call them on
With a song.

It’s asking for the taking.
Trembling, shaking.
Oh, my heart is aching.

We’re coming to the edge,
Running on the water,
Coming through the fog,
Your sons and daughters.

We the great and small
Stand on a star
And blaze a trail of desire
Through the dark’ning dawn.

It’s asking for the taking.
Come run with me now,
The sky is the color of blue
You’ve never even seen
In the eyes of your lover.

Oh, my heart is aching.
We’re coming to the edge,
Running on the water,
Coming through the fog,
Your sons and daughters.

It’s asking for the taking.
Trembling, shaking.
Oh, my heart is aching.

We’re coming to the edge,
Running on the water,
Coming through the fog,
Your sons and daughters.

Let the river run,
Let all the dreamers
Wake the nation.
Come, the New Jerusalem.

choir3

The Dress That Launched 1000 Ships

Posted by

1

There are two things my husband regularly requests of me:

  1. Please wear something short and tight.
  2. Please consider dyeing my hair so black that it has purple undertones.

In reference to the latter, I keep trying to explain that a pasty white girl cannot pull that one off without looking deathly ill.  He is not buying it.  As far as short and tight goes, it just isn’t comfortable, but I am working on it.  Enter Diane Von Furstenberg.  Every woman should have a go to brand that you know will work in a crunch.  My crunch is that the tiny one and I flew to Omaha much earlier than anticipated and I am completely unprepared for the big, upcoming reunion.  I have ordered several dresses to try, and one of them is a DVF because I know it will fit.  It is my ‘sure thing’, my bff of the closet.  Diane Von Furstenberg is known for her sexy and feminine wrap dresses, and her impeccable taste in prints.  She is the queen of femininity, in my book, and my heart beats a little faster when I see new collections.  She manages to bridge the worlds of super trend and timelessness.  I have little loyalty to most things in my closet, but I horde my pieces by her.

My dress arrived today, and true to form, it is an incredible fit.   I looked in the mirror and grinned.  It manages to be proper and racy in one dress.  Like a mullet, it’s business up front and a party in the back.  It hugs curves like a race car and is just as exciting.  My mind is relieved.  I know I’ve got a dress that makes me feel comfortable, but is as tight as second skin for my husband.  Life is about compromises.  In this situation, this compromise is definitely a win-win.

Here is the dress.  It’s offered in 2 colors.  Nordstrom has the purple on sale.  Saks has both colors at full price, but really fast shipping!

dvf purple dvf

 

Workin’ On My Fitness (quote by Fergie)

Posted by

0

I recently decided to take my fitness to the next level.  And by that I really mean that I would like to reduce the circumference of my thighs before my husband’s high school reunion pool party.  I think of myself as a relatively fit person.  I run, hike, and participate in Pilates classes, AND I was once a competitive gymnast.  Yes, it was over 20 years ago, but I strongly believe in muscle memory, and I am quite certain I could still do a back handspring if pressed.  I’m not interested if you have a differing opinion, by the way….  Anyhow, the tiny one isn’t always interested in a long walk, so I ordered 2 videos off of Amazon.  This was new for me.  I figured I could do them while he napped.  I ordered Jillian Michael’s “6 Week 6 Pack” and Insanity “Fast and Furious”, the 24 minute workout.  My reasoning was that I want to be friends with Jillian because I like her energy and this was a way to bond with her, and for Insanity, my friend wet her pants shortly into the video—it was that difficult.  Normally I would not try something that induces someone to wet their pants, but I took it as a positive in this situation, and I want smaller thighs desperately.

I convinced my husband to do the Insanity video with me.  He agreed on the condition that we close all the shades so no one could see us doing it.  5 minutes into the video, I could barely breathe and I kind of hated Shawn (the instructor).  10 minutes into the video and I would have quit if Pat wasn’t there to see me quit.  15 minutes into it I no longer cared if I was doing the moves correctly and was randomly shooting limbs in different directions, hoping that I was somewhat close.  Shawn was cheering me on and I was certain he was secretly mocking me.  Shortly after that, Shawn instructed us to “Jack those Jacks”, I felt something pop in my ankle.  Shawn had no mercy for me.  I finished up the video without jumping and felt extremely proud of myself, and wished I had a video of my performance.  While it nearly killed me, it is an excellent workout in a short 24 minutes that I WILL conquer….after my ankle heals.

Afraid of Flying With a Baby? Go Southwest.

Posted by

1

flight

The tiny one and I have taken 2 roundtrips together.  We have flown Southwest both times.  The first flight was fairly dreamy.  I carried the small bundle of love inside a Moby wrap.  The bestie flew with me on the outbound flight because I was scared to fly alone.  We had an entire row to ourselves and Teeny only cried when people eyeballed our middle seat.  He was cute and sleepy the rest of the time.  On the way home, it was the same.  The first leg of the flight was so empty that most people had their own row.  A woman across the aisle said she was moved by the way I looked at him.  The biggest challenge I had was convincing the person in front of me that the gaseous, adult-like noises were not coming from me, but a 3 month old infant.  That particular plane did not have a changing table in the bathroom.  I thought that was rough.  Little did I know….

We flew again when he was 5.5 months.  I was not nearly as nervous.  I felt I knew his behavior.  I was a little worried about missing his afternoon nap, but he slept almost the entire time on the previous flight, so I assumed he would again.  The first leg was challenging, but doable.  We again flew Southwest and again no one wanted the middle seat.  He fussed, but we walked the aisles and it was ok.  He fell asleep 20 minutes before we landed.  We sprinted for our gate and all hell broke loose.  He was a complete and total mess for the next 1 and a half hours.  I would like to say that when people boarded after us they saw a woman with large blue eyes and youthfully tousled hair, discreetly nursing a baby with just a hint of womanly cleavage showing.  In all actuality, I had a crazed look in my eye with hair that could have housed beavers, and I would have offered my fully exposed teats to anyone who could make this baby stop screaming.  He would not stop.  He missed his nap.  I took his clothes off because he’s a little nudie.  I sang to him.  I offered him a bottle.  I walked the aisles with him and apologized to passengers.  He.Would.Not.Stop.Screaming.  The ‘dude’ (you fake hipster) in front of me kept turning and looking at me, and it certainly was not because he was interested in my still exposed breasts.  I finally yelled that there was nothing I could do to make him stop crying.  He did not turn around even once more.  The kind, princess-of-the-air flight attendant came over when we had to buckle up and offered to walk with him.  I burst into tears and sobbed the rest of the flight.  She assured me over and over again that it was ok.  She walked with my screaming mess and appeared to like him.  I am certain she was the only one on the flight who did.  She was an angel at that moment.  The way back was not nearly as traumatic.  The amazing, fabulous, professional flight attendants let us take our car seat on the flight, which helped immensely, and told me that mothers drink for free on their flight.  I am flying back in a few weeks (with reinforcements) and I had no problem paying an extra $40 to fly Southwest*.  Southwest, you are amazing and are a luxury for terrified mothers.  I am yours….for life.

*I apologize in advance for any non-parents on my flight.

Give It Away

Posted by

1

I learned a lesson today.  My father has a philosophy that if someone is desperate enough to stand and ask you for money, you should give if you can.  Once you give, the money is no longer yours to judge what that person does with it.

This was on my list today:

  • Return zappos shoes that were a back up for Patrick’s father’s day present.
  • Hit the Bath and Body Works sale and stock up on antibacterial soaps.
  • Get finger paints to do cool ziplock project for the tiny one that my friend showed me.
  • Buy orange chicken at Trader Joe’s because I’m addicted.

All of these things involve money, and are a part of my life that I do not worry about.  Nothing is extravagant, but nothing on the list is a cause for monetary consternation either.  I hit the sale and scored an extra .50 cents off each soap and decided to stroll to Starbucks because I have serious insomnia.  On my way, there was an old man who was clearly down on his luck.  He was wearing a straw fedora and took it off and held it out as we passed.  I did not stop because of the tiny one and my mama bear instinct, but continued to think about him and how skinny he was.  I decided I would buy him coffee.  What if he doesn’t like coffee?  Ok, they have these cooler drinks; I’ll get him one of those.  No, Patrick says that men don’t like those kinds of drinks.  All right, I’ll get him a $5 card and he can get a coffee and pastry or whatever he wants.

I got my coffee and the card and went back to find the man.  He was there and I gave it to him and said there was enough for coffee and a pastry.  His face lit up and he asked me which restaurant the card was for.  I told him.  He thanked me and hurried towards Starbucks.  I got in my car and cried.  He was so skinny.  Why didn’t I do $10?  That would have gotten him a sandwich.  Why didn’t I do $20?  That would be breakfast for a few days and it wouldn’t have changed my financial situation in any way.

My heart breaks for this hungry man who still got up and dressed himself for the day, and I am thankful for his presence in my life today.  It humbled me and allowed me to think of the lessons from my father and to have a conversation with the tiny one that I am certain he did not understand, but will, someday.  I added compassion to my goals of happy and healthy for his life.

WHY A MUSICAL THEATER GIRL SHOULD NEVER CAMP

Posted by

1

I was not raised in an outdoorsy household.  We were ‘sporty’ but not ‘outdoorsy’.  My mom played tennis at a club, we rode bikes, skied regularly, and my dad even went on fishing trips.  He rested in a very nice condo at night, however.  I had no desire to camp and it was never something that our family even attempted.  When we moved to Omaha, we found a lovely church and one of the youth highlights for the entire year was this church camp thing.  My mom signed us up.  It was a good way to meet and bond with new friends.  We went to Walmart and I chose a sleeping bag that had my favorite shade of green for the lining.  We didn’t ask about temperatures it was suited for, or if I needed a head zipper thingy because we were not campers.  It was cute; I felt prepared.  I packed my matching green nightgown and some hot rollers.  I was set for camp.

The age bracket I fell into slept on “the hill”.  This was something my fellow campers had spent years waiting to do.  It was a big deal.  The kids on the hill did not sleep in cabins.  You dragged your cot into the middle of a field and all slept together.  Oh, and you had to hike to get to the hill.  I did not see the fun in any of this, but went along sure that it would get better.  The hype was that serious.  The first night, I failed to notice that everyone was piling on layers before going to bed because it was dark and I was preoccupied with myself.  I slipped into my nightgown and hopped into my cot.   I froze my tail off.  It was miserable.  My sleeping bag was about an inch thick and my synthetic satin nightgown felt like a layer of morning dew.  Everyone else had bags that cinched around their heads and were toasty with all their layers.  (Thanks for the preparation non-outdoorsy family.)  Making do, I hiked down to the showers with my trusty hot rollers.  Guess what?  No electricity up on the hill.  So I am going to wake up each morning freezing cold and spend the entire day with horrible, frizzy hair, and this is just going to repeat itself for an entire week?  AND there are cute older boys here too?  Super.Fun.Camp.  Just when I thought it could not get worse, I find out you play morning games before hiking all the way back down for breakfast.  One of the games involved filling your mouth with flour and spitting at other people.  DO MY PARENTS HATE ME?  Why am I here?  I am a musical theater nerd with no interest at all in this nature crap and I am stuck here for a week.  I ended up enjoying the friends up on the hill, but I hated the camp.  I hated it the next year too, but at least we got to sleep in cabins with electricity.  It just wasn’t my thing.

We have friends who invite us to RV with them.  I will not go.  We have friends who invite us to camp in the desert.  Absolutely not….  Why would you go somewhere where you “dig a hole” to go to the bathroom?  How is this fun?  What I do enjoy immensely now, however, is hiking.  My husband and I hiked when we found out our first round of ivf failed.  We hiked on my birthday when I was 6.5 months pregnant.  We hike after an argument.  I can see the beauty in being outdoors and revel in it.   We have branched out a few times, but there is a secret trail in La Canada, CA that we find ourselves drawn to.  You begin with a tree covered path, next to a dancing stream with fallen logs.  It is straight out of a fairy tale.  The best part?  I go home ready for a hot shower followed by my huge, comfortable bed indoors.

hiking

Gifts For Father’s Day

Posted by

2

My husband and I attended high school together.  He is a year older.  When we tell people we met in high school, they assume we were high school sweethearts.  We were not, except for one, very brief, month.  We reconnected when I was in a travelling children’s show that performed in Chicago, where he was living and working.  We hit the town and I made him dance with me in a bar where no one else was dancing.  He was both fascinated and appalled by what he calls my “show boating”.  The bar, Matildas, is famous for its variety of martinis and I sort of believed I was both invincible and invisible after 2 of them.  When I hit 3, I invited him to watch the show.  I played a variety of characters from a witch, to an elephant, to a chef.  My main costume was: a white turtleneck, white culottes, white tights, white tennis shoes, and a white apron.  (You can see why I waited until the 3rd martini, no?) In one scene, I danced around making a pretend salad.  In another, I pretended to be a mouse and ran around the stage making mouse noises.  Patrick declined, and to this day, he regrets not going and witnessing that spectacle.  This was our beginning.

Patrick and I are both kind of dramatic.  He one time told me that he could either be a good husband or a good father, but not both.  I have no idea how he came up with this statement, or how he rationalized it, but there it was.  He also told me that he would like to be the type of man who pulls off a regular hat.  I only include this to give you an idea of how our conversations go and his mind set.  I am not mocking, by the way.  I love this.  It fits us.  Patrick has now been my husband for 8 years and a father for 9 months.  He, like all other tasks he puts his mind to, has exceeded all expectations in both categories.  We are not without disagreements and arguments, but he is mine and I would not trade him, even for Tim Riggins.  While the list could go on for pages, these moments jump out at me regarding his character as a father and husband.

  • For my birthday this year, a part of my present was him coming home from work early (meaning going in freakishly early) so I had time to run or do something on my own.
  • He has always supported every endeavor of mine, encouraged and brainstormed many, and caught me when I began to fall.
  • He went to almost every single prenatal visit and fully participated in child birthing classes.
  • He never once left our side in the hospital except to go home and take care of our puppies.
  • He takes shifts in the middle of the night, and actually wants to.
  • He reads in character voices to Teddy for his favorite book, “Brown Bear”.
  • He regularly tells me that I have the body to pull off short shorts.  (I did not say he was sane.)
  • He is the most optimistic human I have ever met when it comes to life’s potential.

There is not a gift I could give that would be equal to my appreciation to this man, but here are a few gifts important men in my life have said make it a little sweeter.  Here is a little list if you need some help for the upcoming celebration of fatherhood.

Sporting Category:

Under Armour Golf Shirts: these beat out the competition because of their loose fit and cool breathe technology.

under armour

Nike Golf Shoes: The tennis shoe style breathes better.

nike golf shoe

Mizuno: This workout shoe is ideal for flat and wider feet.  www.mizunousa.com

Jawbone Up: “UP is a wristband and app that tracks how you sleep, move and eat—then helps you use that information to feel your best.” –from jawbone.com.  Great new tool for techies and cross fitters.

jawbone up

Fashion:

Hugo Boss Ties: the quality is superior.  They have a firm enough texture to stay tied nicely throughout the day.  Also, not appropriate for Father’s Day weather, but he makes the most incredible velvet blazer I have ever seen.  Neiman’s has them on sale.

Donald Pliner Dress Shoes: I love my brother David’s sense of style and he will now only wear this dress shoe since discovering it.

donald pliner

Ted Baker Socks: You have to love a bit of cheeky British whimsy for these.

ted baker socks

Cowboy boots: There is not a manlier, or sexier shoe out there.  Plus, for any men who see themselves taller, there is a little lift in them.  No worries, they will not look like Prince.  Zappos.com upgrades your free shipping to overnight.

dan post

Miscellaneous:

Tumi Wallets: Tumi is a luxury brand with a modern look.  Their products last forever and their wallets are very reasonably priced.  After Patrick washed (and ruined) the Gucci wallet I gave him, I bought him this.  It has been washed and still is kicking 8 years later.

pTUMI1-7880257v400

Meoimi Wine: I am not a wine connoisseur by any means, but my brother is.  He recommends this for a nice, well priced red.

Gold Bond Lotion: It just works for man hands.

Brush Your Hair

Posted by

2

This is simply a tale of caution to let you know that your personal paparazzi can pop up anywhere, at anytime.

The tiny one has an ear infection that started last week.  He had been waking up multiple times during the night for about a week.  It hit its peak Thursday evening and he could not sleep at all.  I held, sang, cuddled, and fed him most of the night.  I have no complaints about that evening, but I was a walking disaster the next day.  He was a crawling disaster and needed extra love.  I brushed my teeth and washed my face with him clinging to my leg and sobbing.  This repeated when I needed to get dressed.  I grabbed shorts off the floor and the first top I could reach.  I debated skipping changing my underwear, but thought that I should have a small amount of personal pride.  I put on mascara for my post pictures and called it a day.  I did not brush my hair and was pale as a ghost.  I did not care.  I felt proud of the small achievement of the updated underpants.

Patrick came home and the tiny one was adorable and charming.  He may have thought I faked the sobbing and clinging.  We decided to go get frozen yogurt because it was a lovely evening.  I looked like a transient and was fine with it.  Just get me sugar and out of this house!  I was excited to try out my new Ergo carrier too.  (It is awesome, by the way.)  Yogurt was a success, the weather was a success, the ambiance of South Pasadena is always a success.  My appearance, not so much, but who would know?  My husband snaps a picture of our son’s cuteness and posts it to Facebook.  I scream that I am supposed to be knowledgeable about fashion and beauty and in one snap, my street cred is gone.  I am pale, smelly, have visible roots (isn’t it called ombre when you brush your hair?), horrible outfit, and the angle makes me look a good 10 pounds bigger.  I threatened to post my nudie of him holding the tiny one, but got paranoid about being arrested for child pornography.

The moral of the story?  While I appreciate the fact that my husband finds me attractive at my worst, take the time to feel good.  5 more minutes to bronze my cheeks, brush my hair, and put together a decent outfit would have made for a picture worth posting, and quite frankly, pulling myself together physically keeps me pulled together emotionally when I am bone weary.  Patrick, I challenge you to a retake this weekend.  Bring it.

Best Mascaras

Posted by

1

Have you ever noticed that when you are within a group of women who do not know each other well, if there is a lull in the conversation, a compliment is shot out?  It is usually over clothing or makeup, because what else is there to compliment when you do not know what another woman is about?  If it goes the makeup route, it is usually eye lashes, sometimes lip color.  I don’t know why we are so obsessed with proper and thick lashes, but we are.  It is a tad creepy if you think about it.  They are short, odd hairs sticking out of a skin flap.  Yet, we spend money to make them prominent.  I have found myself in many awkward conversations in my life; a couple regarding eye lashes.

  • I was part of a big meeting outside of my regular department where many of the employees were meeting the owner for the first time.  During a social lunch, there was an uncomfortable silence.  There were roughly 12 people there who were competent adults, and still I panicked and decided to pick up the conversation.  I started babbling about my last trip to Sephora, and how placing product at the register for impulse purchases was brilliant.  (I should have left it at that as it was a sound statement relevant to the business.)  I continued to talk about how I fell for the strategy and recently had bought mascara based on its name and its location at the register.  I have now told the owner of the company on two separate occasions that I am incapable of controlling myself while shopping.  I have been diagnosed with diarrhea of the mouth with a mild case of melodrama.  (I can and do control my purchases as needed, just not my need to fix an uncomfortable situation.)
  • I joined a group of women with young children and we went out for movie night.  We stopped at Nordstrom for the amazing Laura Mercier promotion and chatted while waiting for help.  One of my new friends asked what kind of mascara I wore because she needed help.  I asked why she needed help and she said, “Oh Asians have horrible eye lashes.”  I had no clue how to respond.  I innately like to make things better and did not know how to here, so I proceeded to get into her personal space and examine them in hopes she would elaborate.  Nope.

I have 2 mascaras that I love.  I have deduced over the years that I have greasy eye lashes because most mascara ends up under my eyes, but these do not.  One of them is the impulse register purchase, so perhaps it is a good ending after all.  One is high end, one is low end.  Neither of these have ever irritated my eyes.  Enjoy my make up free “before” pictures.

eye2

Covergirl LashBlast Volume Mascara, $6.94 on www.target.com

cg_lashblast_volume_mascara_1

covergirl eye

It stays all day and thickens the lash line.  It says it is smudge proof, and it is on me.  I have used several of their mascaras and they are the best for drugstore brands.  It is the only brand that does not flake off under my eyes.

Benefit They’re Real Mascara, $23 on www.sephora.com

benefit

benefit after

The finished look is very similar to the Covergirl, but it lengthens the lashes more than Covergirl.  This goes on incredibly easy and does not budge.  The downside to this one, however, is getting it off.  It does not come off with eye makeup remover (easily) or soap and water.  I discovered, off chance, that baby shampoo removes it pretty easily.

Here are both together.  The Benefit mascara is on the left, and the Covergirl is on the right.  You can be the final judge!

eyes w mas

Rest Assured, The Toilet Is Clean

Posted by

1

If you have a planned visit to my home, rest assured that you will have an extremely clean toilet to sit on, should the need arise.  I always clean toilets before anyone comes over.  It’s my thing.  There is a difference between messy and clean.  I sometimes fail the messy part, but I never fail the clean.  Dirty base boards and a dirty kitchen sink bother me, a lot.  I keep my dogs’ hair shorter than I would prefer because it means my hardwood floors are cleaner.  I would much rather walk down the street nude than go to bed without cleaning up after guests.  I think one of my mother’s proudest facts about her children is that we all are this way.  Some of us, ahem David, hire it out, but we are all fastidious.  There are moments in life that have stuck out for me regarding my need for cleanliness.

  1. Patrick and I took a fabulous trip throughout France, concentrating in Paris.  I was appalled that Notre Dame and other religious, historical houses of worship were not dusted regularly.  How can you invite tourists in and allow them to see mounds of dust collecting EVERYWHERE?  Patrick asked me how I supposed they would clean regularly.  I did not have an answer, but is it not embarrassing for the tourist board?
  2. I shared an apartment with my beloved C and another lovely girl, and I was the bath tub cleaner.  I was also the only one who sat in the bath tub.  C came home and found our roommate bathing her python in the bath tub.  C assured her I should not know about this and she should scour the bath tub after the python exited.  Thank the Lord I did not know about this until much, much later.
  3. A selling point in the ad for my first apartment in NYC (34th and 9th) was that it had a dishwasher.  When we looked at the apartment, it was filthy.  There were animal excretions on the carpet and the dishwasher had standing water and dead insects (the worst kind) inside.  The landlord assured us this would all be fixed by the time we moved in.  I came from renting apartments in Texas, so I believed him.  Nothing had changed when we moved in.  I referenced the selling point of the ad being the dishwasher and he said that I still had one; it just didn’t work.  I sat on the curb and rocked myself while sobbing.

One of my very favorite go to products for quick cleaning is Dr. Bronner’s Peppermint Oil soap.

Dr. Brommer's Peppermint Oil Soap

It comes in a huge bottle and I squirt 1 big squirt in a spray bottle, mix it with water, and use it for a million things.  I clean my counter tops multiple times a day, clean T’s high chair, wipe up spills off the floor, clean the living room table, and my base boards!  It leaves zero residue, but a fantastic minty clean smell.  It is my most favorite cleaning product.  A big bottle lasts 2 years.  They make several scents, and while reading about the company, I learned that many of the ingredients are certified organic and the company fully supports fair trade.  I love that you can use it to clean your home and your body.  They have an unscented version that I plan to try with the tiny one the next time we need soap for him.  They have a fantastic website I recommend checking out as there are many products and interesting articles to read.  www.drbronner.com.  Would it be presumptuous to email this to “whom it may concern” at Notre Dame?