2

Adventures in Oil Pulling

Did anyone else see that Pinterest piece running around social media promoting oil pulling? I did! There was already a giant jar of coconut oil in my pantry, so when I saw this dealy-bob about ‘oil pulling,’ well, picture me completely geeking out. I knew coconut oil was a substitute for butter. And the ultimate deep conditioner. And, did I mention it’s great on baby’s bum for diaper rash?! Needless to say, when I discovered a new use of this heavenly substance,  I immediately jumped on the bandwagon – only to discover I suck at it. And by ‘suck at it,’ I mean I decided to spit the used oil into the sink in our bathroom.

Here’s the thing – it’s not that I didn’t think that it might clog. The thought crossed my mind! But I’m familiar with coconut oil, and I know it’s super sensitive to temperature, so I just figured that in the event of a clogged sink I would run hot water down the drain and it would melt away. Problem solved, right?

Image

No. Definitely not. This photo was actually taken 24 hours after the incident. The water was halfway up the sink before, and has slowly receded.

Guess what else oil pulling taught me? I don’t know how to use a plunger.

Picture the above water – with flakes of what I imagine are moldy poop dislodged from the aforementioned plunger – all over my sink, and mirror, and skincare regimen, and, yes, even my face. (Excuse me while I go take a bath in some bleach.)

This goes out to all those who are dear to me. Family, friends, or even acquaintances on the interweb who may have been equally as stoked about this oil pulling deal as I was. If you decide to test the oil pulling water, please spit that shit in the trash. Otherwise, you could end up with a different ‘organic’ substance in your mouth. The picture speaks for itself. You’ve been warned.

2

The Day I Forfeit.

Since baby came around, I’ve somehow become ensnared in the mommy competition. It was a slow downward spiral, and I’m not sure I was entirely cognizant of it until the other day. I was surfing a website I’m subscribed to which focuses on natural childbirth, etc., and something they said made me rather sad about being unable to have an intervention-free birth. And then I had a light bulb moment – why the hell would I be sad or mourn for the birthing process I went through? Our story is our very own, and it wasn’t perfect, but I didn’t have a stroke, or an embolism. My son and I both made it through alive. I have so very much to be grateful for, yet I let my idealism blind me to all of the good fortune I’ve had.

Perfectionism. Bleh.

My life is messy. Yes, yes it is. In fact, I’m pretty sure I found a dirty diaper at the bottom of my diaper bag, today, that had been there for God only knows how long.

…That was an overshare, huh?

I went to a mommy group today and we (inevitably) traded birth stories, and I can’t begin to tell you how good it felt to hear other women tell me they asked for an epidural as soon as they were admitted to the maternity ward.  The truth is, nothing is quite as humbling as raising a little human.  The standard is oh-so-high (this ‘standard’ I’m referring to is my own, but I suspect every mom has this imagined standard in her heart), and entirely impossible to live up to. I could never give my little man everything that he deserves, despite my best intentions. Today, I watched other mommies smile and laugh about it (as opposed to beating their heads against a wall for being the worst mommies ever!), and I decided that I forfeit.  What does that mean, exactly? Well, for me it meant going through and unsubscribing from any webpages/blogs/facebook feeds that left me feeling the slightest bit inadequate. Yep. I am no longer an attachment parenting, babywearing, breastfeeding, natural birth advocate according to social media. I am just a mom. The best mom I am capable of being, and that’s just gonna have to be enough for my son. I love him so, so much, that I will never be able to doenough to express that. I give up holding myself to the ‘right way’ of doing things according to all of the latest research.  Because, quite frankly, the anxiety that I’m going to screw my kid up if I don’t do A, B, and C is keeping me from being emotionally present. And in the long run, I think he will appreciate having a mother’s open, joyful heart much more than he will appreciate the time and money she spent dicing up organic avocados in a futile attempt at baby-led weaning. 

Perhaps I simply have too much time on my hands! Maybe tonight I’ll lobby for Baby #2.

 

(…Still laughing…)

 

Okay, friends! Any advice for REAL parenting and letting go of the perfect mommy in my imagination is highly encouraged! 🙂 Please and thank you.