One Hot Mess, Vol. 10: T-straps

You guys didn't think I could go on a overnight backpacking trip with my five children without having one of these, right?

It's clearly something the 7 year old did, right? Oh, no? The 6 year old, then. No? Ok, ok, Johnny!! It MUST be Johnny. What did he do?? NO? Really? Clemmy, then? 
Peter?...

YOU ARE SO KIND.

(It was me.)
(As usual.)

I forgot to bring my shoes.

(weeping emoji)

I hiked in $14 Target pleather T-straps. I really did.

************ pause for laughter**********take your time****************

It's been a few weeks (I've missed you!!) so I hope you've got some good ones stored up for us. Post yours with the link-up button when you're done telling all your friends about this stupid girl you know from the internet. (Me)

An InLinkz Link-up

When we hiked up the mountain

On the drive back last night I admit I felt pretty wounded. It sounds silly, maybe, but the hike had been hard. Very hard. The most hard, even... for me. It wasn't childbirth, but it was the most strenuous mental/physical thing I have done. My shoulders were still aching from the weight of my pack and I thought to myself, "You've gotta give this a few days to process before you start writing things down." I showered a heavenly shower after we carried all the dirty-footed kids into their beds last night. When my head hit the pillow my legs tingled with the tingle of about 26 P90x dvd's. I slept a deep, dreamless sleep. So did everyone else. The baby didn't wake until almost 8 this morning. Johnny slept until 10.

Kirby and I were both admittedly surprised at how hard this trip actually was. The first 1/4 mile of the trail wound through the forest floor and I snapped a million pics of my cute little hikers. We started to climb a bit and I figured we would climb a little here and there so, no big deal. But then we kept and kept and kept for 1200 feet. After the first few inclines we stopped slapping each other on the shoulders and just started working. Heads down, feet moving. Thinking back on it, I am amazed at my kids. There were whines and complaints and tears, yes. But never "why are we doing this" "let's just go home" "this is the worst trip ever"... none of that. Just recognizing what it actually was - "This is hard." Yes, it is. "My feet hurt." Mine, too. "I'm so tired." So am I.  I'm sure for many (fit, childless, experienced, etc), it wouldn't have been so bad. But the climb was brutal, and it was brutal together. No one was skipping up the trail. And because of that we felt totally united. We were all a little bit the same. 

I recognize still that this was pretty insane. I did zero research on the trail or the elevation. It was my first backpacking trip ever and I did it with an 8 month old on my back + my bed roll + my sleeping bag + a bear canister + Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets (HUH?). Why didn't we start with a mile trail on level ground? Why didn't we get a feel of the route beforehand? Why? I don't know. This is the faulty planning gene I've talked about before, I suppose. But, maybe we wouldn't have done it had we prepped and planned. I think sometimes the ability to just go is a sweet silver lining. Kirby has a shockingly high tolerance for endurance so when he said, "It'll be fine," he wasn't exaggerating. For him, it was. And maybe if he and I were alone on the trail, it would have been ok for me, too. In a hard, exhausting sort of way. But being on this trail with our kids added a new element of mental and emotional exhaustion that neither of us could have foreseen. 

It's one thing to just have to get yourself to finish a thing. It's another thing to get 5 small people to finish it, too. 

I found myself wondering what we would do if someone just gave up and flopped in a heap of tears in the dirt. What if someone refused to go on? What if someone fell and sprained their ankle? A hike back down is still a hike. With Clemmy and Peter in tow neither of us could possibly carry anyone else. These little worries never quite went away and they were pretty draining. We also faced the challenge of not being able to carry on as you think you must when you are pushing a physical limit. You know when you need to put your head down and just go? I wanted to do that lots. But I couldn't. We couldn't. We had to stop... a lot. We had to soothe tears, we had to answer "How many more minutes?" countless times, we had to chat about that lizard there, we had to be present. And that was a different kind of exhaustion that I hadn't anticipated.

But don't stop here and think I told you so, this sounds like a mess.

Because what else happened is this: I saw my family. I mean, I really saw them. I saw what they could do, who they are. And it is impossible for a love to not grow deeper when you can really seeing someone. I watched Hero, who can be the floppiest, laziest one of them all, power her way up and down that mountain with a strength I didn't even know she had. Head down, no complaints, silent and happy and strong. I watched Mary grab Johnny's hand so that he could get an "energy boost" from her (eye-roll of cuteness). I watched Johnny encourage his exhausted baby sister when she cried- "You can do it, Clemmy! Isn't this a fun hike?" - when he himself was at the end of his little rope. I watched Kirby carry an enormous pack and a 2 year old almost all the way up and down a mountain. I watched him keep us going with his happy tone and his easy way (even when he was working the hardest). We cheered each other to the end of the trail, we celebrated together at the top. And I saw Kirby off to work and I washed their dirty hair this morning with a new affection. They are all a little bit new to me today. A little bit more.

I loved the magic of being deep inside a busy National Park in a place that felt so secret. I loved that fellow hikers are actually the nicest, coolest people you could possibly meet (not serial killers!). I loved that everyone we passed cheered on our kids as they went. I loved the feeling of meeting another tired, smiling face on the trail, who is working hard just like you. I loved that clear blue sky and the deep quiet.

I'm grateful that Kirby took us on this epic trek. It felt like a true journey, with dirt and tears and aching backs and victories and challenges and getting to the top together. When we finally saw the lake the happiness leap from our lips. It was pretty magical to feel so sincere about the same thing. It was pretty magical to be so deeply happy together in a moment I don't expect to fade even though many others will.

Anything that gets this kind of sap out of me is good.

Why you should spend your money on a swimsuit

I'm a big fan of the last minute. Maybe that's why I'm just now packing our JUST RECEIVED sleeping bags for our trip that starts in 4 hours. Maybe that's why I am writing about swimwear at the end of July.

I have two major cheap holdups when it comes to what I wear. I have pinched pennies so that I can buy good jeans or a nice jacket but when it comes to undies and swimwear I have tended to spend the least amount of money possible and wear them down to the threads. This is not good. Under-things are important for... reasons. I'm not in 4th grade anymore so it's time to really start caring. And I am (starting to care). But that's about as much as I am going to write about underwear. On to category 2: swimwear.

I cannot offer a good explanation as to why I haven't felt justified in spending money on a swimsuit. Perhaps its because it's seasonal (even though the season is long here in the CA sunshine). Maybe because it's not something I will wear all the time. Maybe because it's something I would have to plan for and save for. Maybe it's because my body has been in a constant state of flux for the past 8 years. Either way, I've always been able to swoon over suit but not drop change. But, in reality, I have dropped change. Just in $25 chunks at Target. Over and over and over.

This year I decided to really drop the change. I waited and I managed to budget it in and I pulled the trigger. And it was the right decision. Yes, all that good, important stuff about feeling confident, about enjoying your children, not hiding under your beach umbrella. But also yes to looking beautiful in a swimsuit! Yes to a well made garment that will last you year after year. Yes to ruching across the belly so that you have the freedom to expand/contract as you must. Yes to boyshorts because 76 reasons. Yes to a halter because flattering on anyone. Yes to the Seafolly Boyleg Maillot! Cheer! Cheer!!!

If I were really 31 I would have got it in black, like this one here. But I didn't. I went with the overwhelming garden/fruit basket pattern (see above). And I wish I could say this was a Seafolly sponsored post because I would honestly be one of those sign flippers on the street corner about this suit. I'm postpartum-y and this suit is like, "I don't give a damn, girl. Ima make you look good anyway."

(And it does)

Have you ever treated yourself to a good, good suit? Dooooooo it!! Do it! I promise you and your baby-having curves will not be sorry.

(*Happy Birthday to my sweet friend, Grace!! *Almost baby girl time, Jenna!! *No large wild animals, please!!)

In defense of the mess

There has been a smidgen of chit chat on the internet as of late on living in a culture that doesn't much like children. And what kind of influence us children-havers might have or not have within the larger scope. I'm not disagreeing or intending to beat a dead horse, but when I read what Kendra had to say, in light of what Haley had to say, compared to what Cari had to say, my mind wandered in a different direction. And it wandered in a direction it's wandered in before. It wandered there when I first read a post about nursing in public, and then again when I read a few posts about covering up while nursing, and it sort of wanders back every time us moms chat about they way we do things or the way we think we should do things and why. It makes me wonder about who we are doing it all for and, in a way, how to measure whose opinion matters most.

See, I can read all the "nursing cover" posts without feeling offended in either direction. Sometimes I cover, sometimes I don't. When I do, it's not in protest- it's because I want to. And when I don't it's not in protest either... it's just because I don't want to. The longest I've nursed a kid is 3 years. But I don't consider myself a "lactivist" by any stretch of the term. And perhaps some of my both/and feelings come from the experiences I've had of other mothers who have lived both/and and how heavy the weight of self-imposed expectations can really be.

When I was a young(er) mother, I was really worried about appearing like I was doing it right. I remember fidgeting with my changing pad and my diaper bag and my nursing cover and most of the time I was a sloppy mess. I wanted to have it all just so. But I didn't. And let's be honest, we never do. Not at the start, and not even in the middle and probably not at the end, either. I would sit at the park with a crew of seasoned mothers and I'd watch them handle their newborns with a grace and finesse that I longed for. No one was judging me, no one was chastising me for my wobbly-legged newness, but I saw the divide. I felt it. I saw a picture of the mother I wanted to be, it was the same as them- capable, relaxed, composed. And so I kept fumbling under that nursing cover, because if I didn't, I would be the one distracted from conversation with my shirt pinched under my chin, one hand on a boob and one hand on a newborn's head. And I didn't want to be her. I didn't.

But one day I watched a veteran mother of many pop up from her shady spot under a tree to chase a wandering toddler away from the street. I watched her run with a newborn at her breast, soft, postpartum belly exposed, underwear bunched up above the waistline of her jeans... yelling, running, towards the 2 year old on the sidewalk. And I loved her for it.

I loved her for being a mess in that moment. I loved her for allowing me to see her- breast, belly, running, all of it. Of course, she wasn't putting on a show for me, she was just being a mother to her wandering little one and to her nursing baby- but she gave me a profound gift. And in that moment, I mentally untied all of the tightly wound expectations I had given to myself. Because I saw a good woman being a little bit messy, just like me. And I realized that meant I was just like her.

This isn't a post about how to blog, what to share, or pretty vs gritty, or nursing covers, or any of that. And it's certainly not negating the fact that I think it's important to find joy in it all and to share how worth the crazy all these babies really are. But I found a special blessing in the mess. And I can't ever shake how important it is to me.

I still think of it often. When I find myself changing a gross poo diaper with not enough baby wipes, or when I'm standing next to Johnny, peeing on a palm tree in the Trader Joe's parking lot (yesterday). My default emotion might be "oh my GOODNESS, I am so embarrassed" and maybe even "OH MY GOODNESS THE PEOPLE AROUND ME WILL NEVER WANT CHILDREN AFTER THIS" and, maybe, maybe, that's true. But there might also be a young, struggling mother that catches me in the chaos and smiles. Maybe she will go home blessed, renewed, a little more confident, and, at the very least, not feeling so alone.

And so, I don't necessarily disagree that a window into the mess might encourage one community to dislike children even more than they already do, particularly with no positive as a counter weight. It very well might be true. My point is that I don't really care. I have a special affection for that other community. Mine. The ones that might really need to see us with a little postpartum flab exposed. The ones that might need to see us toss off the nursing cover every once in a while. The ones that maybe need to see those crumpled up Taco Bell wrappers spill from the slider door of the van.

I think that's why it's either/or, both/and for me, and why I really hate to be part of any parenting clique. Lactivist, homebirthers, bottle feeders, pretty, gritty, blah blah. I just want to a friend to you, wherever it is you are. Just like that woman in the park was a friend to me in her awkward, exposed moment of messy when she didn't even know it. Maybe that moment appalled one or two, but it changed me.

So, you there, fumbling around with that newborn baby. Don't you forget that I am a mess just like you.

Because you are a mother, just like me.

Possibly wonderful/possibly not

I am on the holdiest of holds with AAA. I had planned on blogging today but I thought I'd just make this call real super quick before I started but here I am going on minute 846 of le hold so I figured I might as well start punching out this post while I wait.

(Still waiting.)

This last week was weird. All the kids had this strange fever virus that lasted 24 hours and came with zero other symptoms. And they just went down like flies, one by one... every new day came with a new person saying "I feel great!" and another new person saying "Blerggggh." Much time spent caring for fevers, no time spent tending to the internets. By Saturday morning everyone was back to normal just in time for weekending and a little smidgen of this.

Kirby and I never got the bug and so we've been feeling pretty puffed up in the immune system department but 1/2 of us just schlepped in the door asking me to clear half the bed of folded laundry so he could lay down.

:(

I suppose it'd be premature to say we are in the clear.

But guys, more importantly (sorry husband), I've been holding out on you all. Something big is happening.
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In the form of not a pregnancy.
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We are going backpacking this weekend.

Kirby had an epiphany around the time of our luxury vacation that taking our kids on a for real backpacking trip would be "amazing" and "life-changing." I tried to argue him out of it I swear I did. But in the end, I came alongside him like the supportive life-partner that I am. I figured, worst case, it's harder than we thought, we trek back down the trail, have a laugh, and talk about that time we tried to go backpacking with 5 kids 7 and under ORRRRR it really is awesome and we are really glad we did it. Either way it'll be an adventure and we like those. And we like our kids to like those. I suppose if we make it back down the mountain intact our kids (AND I) will feel an incredible sense of capability and confidence. And I'll sew a cute woodsy patch on everyones pack. So, to the wilderness we go.

I cannot wait to blog about it after. In fact, that alone might be worth the entire thing.

Here is our plan- all kids (minus Clemmy) carry their own packs with their water, a few granola bars, a sleeping bag, a sleeping mat , a change of clothes and a swimsuit. I got them all a pair of these shoes... (on ebay, very used and very cheap.) I will carry Peter, my water and my sleeping mat (Maybe I can squish my clothes in that?). Kirby will wear a big pack with both of our sleeping bags, our tent, our food and diapers. I even found compostable diapers so heyyyo! All Clemmy will be in charge of is herself (fingers crossed).

The trail is a "scenic" (easy?) 6 mile loop to a lake where we will camp. No cliffs or waterfalls to fear. What else are we missing? A friend of mine mentioned flares yesterday which terrified me was fantastic advice. I plan on making the kids wear a whistle around their necks because, you know, safety. Other than that, what's the best way to kill a scary wild animal or serial killer w/out a gun?

Tips? Tricks?

Can we do this? Are we crazy? (Don't answer)

Special wilderness prayers please, St JP 2!

Busy busy busy and an Answer Me This

Goodness, where have I been? Friday we had only 2 children due to respective sleepovers and so we raged. We raged so hard. We let Clemmy eat peanut butter cookies for dinner and we drank wine with friends around the fire. Perfect.

Saturday-day we had a dear old friend (Kirby's college roomies) swim party, b-day fete in which our bathing suited child (hint: 2, still poops in pants/diapers) was the only one to come sauntering through the gorgeously landscaped backyard paradise filled with a few parents but mostly non-parents, drinking margaritas and looking hip, saying "MY POO'S COMING OUT, MY POO'S COMING OUT."

And it was. All out and down and everywhere. I'm sure we converted all party-goers to the "have many children" camp.

Speaking of 2 year old's. I just noticed this lovely public art as I sit here typing...

And later that evening we were able to reconnect with our beloved Rhodeses, as they made their way towards Hawaii. We are positive that the California stop-over will now become an annual tradition. It was a perfect night filled with Peter climbing all over Lucy June, getting both babies to sleep, trapping our other kids inside with a movie, and (again) drinking wine outside by the fire. We miss you already, Rhodes. Kate is a self-proclaimed detail-less observer so she complimented our yard over and over even though there is an old pull up half-buried in the chicken coop and crayons melted into the patio pavers. Just another reason to call her a treasure.

And yesterday, we celebrated my mom's birthday with a constantly-freezing live stream of the World Cup championship game in which we watched the motherland bring it home. We barbecued and swam and sang Happy Birthday even though all my candles/giant fireplace matchsticks, blew out the second I emerged with the cake. It was perfect. And even more perfect was/is that my brother is home. He is home!

The other day the kids dressed up as girls/boys and had a dance party. It was amazing.

And hero made a baby trap in a rolling-self cart.

Other than that I realize I totally ditched One Hot Mess this last Thursday but I think I'm going to make that a habit. I'm finding lately that I can squeeze 2/3 posts out a week and that makes roughly 1/2 of all my posts hot messes. Which they practically are anyway, but I think I'm going to experiment with just every so often or once a month. Maybe that way more friends will be able to link-up? What do you think? Good idea?

I loved all the interaction happening after my last post. For the record I don't cloth diaper. I could swing it here and there with my first few but at this point, I just don't want to have to touch/wash/rinse any more poo than I already have to (see paragraph 2). I adore all you who fight the good fight- but I should have maybe also linked my fav and best diaper choice in terms of cheapness and a smidgen of eviro/healthness- Up & Up, Up &Up, Up & Up. I wish I could give you all a coupon or something but I can't.

And nowwwwwww......

Hey, Kendra.

1. How did you get your name?

I am going to direct this question to my daughter. But I can answer it because I named her. I'm sure one or two or 67 of you have wondered what the hell is wrong with my naming process. Hero Victoria, Mary Josephine, John Campion, Clementine Lee, and Peter Raphael.

I fully admit the Fike family name flow is a bit haphazard.

But Hero, let's talk about Hero.

Hero was named after one of my most favorite, favorite characters of Shakespeare- sweet, virtuous Hero of Much Ado About Nothing. I've always loved the story. Che romantico! Quanto tragica! (Google translator, did you work?) Kate Beckinsale didn't hurt either... Anyway, I always, always, always wanted to name my first daughter Hero. And so I did. It wasn't until years later that a friend pointed me to the Magnificat for the day. And, what do you know... it was the feast of an obscure 3rd century martyr named Hero. Quanto Perfetto.

Victoria was my mother's middle name and is mine, so, we loved the idea of passing it on. We are all 3 named after the only religious we know of in our lineage. My mother's Aunt, Sr Victoria. Who, I am sure, has prayed our whole family into the Church.

Kirby and I do tend to ride opposite sides of the fence when it comes to names. With the exception of Santino (yes, he wanted to name Peter Santino... can you even...) Kirby's names typically roll like: James, Joseph, Peter, John, Bill, Mary, Lucy, Dave, Chuck. And my names tend to be all like: Cosimo, Shepherd, Pia, Luz, Rocco, Paloma, Otis, etc.

I gotta admit Kirby kinda keeps coming out on top in the name department but Peter just had to be Peter. Maybe if another Fike rolls around we will stick him with something wild and cray. Let's hope!

2. Do you have a set time of day for prayer?

I try. Scheduler I am not, orderly I am hella not. But these are things I sincerely want to change. And so I'm trying. With the help of my handy app I've already gushed over and over about, I try to do a few daily prayers and I check them off when I do. Check! It feels good.

I try to say the Morning Offering when I wake up, because- it basically covers everything. I try to spend about 15 minutes in a combo Gospel/something else- reading/prayer time sometime in the morning. I'd like to do it before people wake up but sometimes it's at 10:37 when I'm drinking my fourth re-heated cup of coffee. I try to say the Angelus at noon, because it is good to just stop and connect. I try to say the Rosary but honestly that usually only happens when we are driving somewhere, which isn't every day. I try to say a quick prayer before bedtime, too. I'm sure this all seems very Opus Dei-ish and that's because it is. My confessor is a priest of Opus Dei and these are the areas that I'm gently, gently working on. It's funny because sometimes the impression I get from people who are familiar with Opus Dei or it's members is that the ones involved in Opus Dei are so because they are "so Opus Dei." You know, early risers, daily communicants, achievers, etc. And I imagine some are attracted to Opus Dei because it really suits the person they already are. But for me, it is the OPPOSITE. I am a schleppy, un-hairbushed, mess- most of the time. But I love the virtues that I lack and I want to grow in them. And because of that I love Opus Dei. I love that I'm slowly growing in discipline and order, and learning how to make my whole day a prayer- the dishes, the diapers, everything. I love that I can be learn to be a saint where I am. I love that I have an incredible confessor who helps me to do that. A teensy bit at a time.

3. Did your mom work or stay home?

Both! My mom stayed home when I was small, then she did daycare when I was in elementary school, then she worked as Ben Stein's personal assistant all through my Junior High/High School years. Yes, weird. Yes, awesome. Yes, Bueller, Bueller.

4. Do you vote?

By this question do you mean, do I save every absentee ballot sent to our home with the intention of voting but then I find it 3 months after the election and throw it away? Then, yes. The answer is yes. It's not cool, I know. But it's the truth. Maybe I'll vote someday, after many, many, many years of spiritual direction with a priest of Opus Dei. I do vote for presidents, though.

5. What's your favorite drink?

Most often drink: water. Best treat drink: Iced latte with HEAVY CREAM, YES. Best grocery store treat drink: Guava Goddess Kombucha (so goddessy)
Best alcohol drink: see all.

6. How are you photography skills?

Actually, they are good! I always default to iPhone and I'm starting to really kick myself for it. I have a great Canon 40d that weighs 90 lbs and I never drag it out anymore but I need to. Because, the whole camera--->Afterlight--->Instagram/blog can't go on forever.

Okkkkeeeyyy! Bye! Until next time!! Maybe on Wednesday! Maybe tomorrow! Who knows!

Adventures in minimizing and a list of what I love.

I know I've mentioned minimalism and decluttering about 50 times in the past few weeks. It's a process that (I assume) will be ongoing for a while. I feel like I'm still getting a handle on the hows and whys of stuff. One thing I know for sure is my decluttering process always has and always will be marked by the simple phrase- have only what you need, have only what you love. I find that once I honestly ask myself the question, there is a lot I don't need, and a lot I don't love. My general rule of thumb is to get rid of whatever falls in between, and lately, that is proving to be many things.

But as I am learning to be more intentional about what we have, I am also finding that I want to be more intentional about what I buy. I care about quality, and affordability, and usability, and all of that, and I'd rather have less things that really work, really well, than many things that I don't care much for. As I went through our cabinets, the things I got rid of (like the 37 random free restaurant cups in stacks upon stacks upon stacks) have helped me to identify why I wanted to keep what I kept. And I find that I am attracted to having one type of a thing. I think that that's partly because it frees up some mental space for me- these are our plates, these are our bottles, this is my dish soap, etc. Once invested in that particular item, my brain can sort of file that category off somewhere that I don't have to go anymore. I already know these things work, I already like (love) them, and now I have them- so no more browsing aimlessly through a Target aisle for this or for that. But also, having one type of thing, or only a particular brand, pleases me aesthetically. Not at the cost of quality, but still, important. Even when it comes to cleaning bottles. Call me shallow, I don't mind! For me, it makes a difference. In the end, we have less, we spend less, we consume less, without sacrificing quality, what's practical, or what we really love. I mean, that's the goal at least. Talk to me in six months, but HERE'S TO STAYING POSITIVE!

And I like the practical, so I compiled a leedle list of what we kept, and what I love, when I charged through our house like a bat out of hell with a hefty bag. This is sort of a hodge podge of costly, free, diy, practical, easy, etc. Some are affiliate links, some are not. Read on, if you daresies.

1. Klean Kanteens
My kids have two of these each. I tossed all other sippies or travel cups because these canteens can fit sippy lids, sports-style lids and stopper lids, that can all be bought separately. They are easy to clean and the bottles are indestructible. If I accidentally garbage-disposal one of the caps, I can order a replacement easily. If I accidentally garbage disposal one of the bottles, well, it doesn't matter. (It matters in one sense because these bottles are the exact width of our sink drain and are almost impossible to get out, but other than that...)

2. Lifefactory Bottles
These are tried and true and satisfy my all my crunchy hang-ups. The glass doesn't break and they come in cute rubber sleeves. We have four bottles for Clemmy but could do less if I got better at keeping track of them. I bought them here and there over time so the investment never felt too steep.

3. Shaklee Basic-H2
I was a vinegar + water girl for a long time. Until this. Shaklee is awesome. It works and is actually less expensive than just vinegar and water. I didn't find any savings by using the other products but the all purpose comes as a crazzzzy concentrate. You can purchase three separate spray bottles for making glass cleaner (2 drops of concentrate + water), all-purpose cleaner (1/4 tsp concentrate + water), and de-greaser (1 tsp concentrate + water). That is 1 1/4 and 2 drops TEASPOONS of this for 3 full bottles of various cleaning sprays! Amaze. The bottle of concentrate is $16 which at first sounds like AH NO WAY but it took me a year and a half to get through my first bottle, so....

Ge-ge-get it.

4. DIY deodorant
Stop buying deodorant right this instant. This is seriously the best deodorant I've ever used. It's so basic you probably can make it right now in 2 minutes when you're done reading this post. 1/4 cup baking soda, 1/4 cup cornstarch, 6-8 tbsp of coconut oil (until you reach a good consistency). I also add a few drops of lavender oil, because who doesn't want lavender pits? Mix it up and put it in a jar. Boom.

5. Glassware
As long as I have people in my house that break things, I'm serving you water in a old, free pickle jar. Or maybe a pasta sauce jar. Don't hate me for it.

6. DIY laundry detergent
This works, I'm telling you. And it will make you a lot. I do about 2-5 loads of laundry a day and I think it lasts me something like 5 months. It is easy:
1 box of Borax, 1 box of Washing Soda , 3 bars of Castile Soap, grated, 1 box of Baking Soda,  *and my magic ingredient* 1 tub of OxiClean. Go forth and make. (I store the excess in a *trash bag until I need a refill)(*classy)

7. Enamelware
I already talked about this, didn't I? Well now I've had these for a few months and I still super love them. I love that they are not breakable, I love that you can buy tumblers and mugs, and I love that you can dress them up for a nicer occasion in keeping with the farmer-chic style.

(Why does my wrist look so orange?)

8. Method Dishwasher Tabs
Considerably less than Mrs Meyers and they smell just as good (which is the only reason we all buy Mrs Meyers, right?) Good for the environs and all. And they work. (Psst these are cheaper at Target)

9. Method Shower Spray
I only deep clean my bath when I break down and hire someone to deep clean it. This works great for daily use and the bottle also says this...

Which I appreciate.

10. Seventh Gen dish soap
Again, smells good, works good, no ruining the planet guilt. But don't buy from Amazon (although you're welllllcome to shop through my link), buy through Vitacost where they usually sell it for around $3. When they do, I usually buy 6 bottles so I don't have to think about it for a while. It's all about mental freedom, ya'll.

11. Anchor Hocking Food (leftovers) Storage Set 
Can't quite call it Tupperware so hence the awkward title. Gone are the days of flimsy, half-melted tupperware (Gladware? I dunno) and lids-o-plenty. I have two of these sets. They wash great and they are awesome (and they don't leach cancer into your spaghetti leftovers, so, bonus!)

So, with that I've got my dish/drink/kidware and all my household cleaning needs met plus a bottle of white vinegar for when things stink and a bottle of bleach for when things need to be bleached. As I got rid of all the in-betweens I couldn't believe how many bottles of things we had. And how many random Dodger's plastic coffee cups with no tops we had, and very small, hard plastic straws, and sippy lids, and on and on...

Does this list have anything to do with decluttering and minimizing? YES. Know what you love and only have that. Sell the rest at a yard sale.

Kidding.

The only things I still finding myself buying at random or trying new brands of are wood floor cleaner (Do you steam?? Mop? Talk to me...) and hand soap. I sort of bounce around too much in the toiletry department, too. I've been using Alba hair products and Burt's Bees for the kids and I'm pretty happy... but am I sold?? Let me know if you've got any magical secrets.

What do you need?
What do you love?
How much exists in the middle?