What I (Polyvore) Wore Wednesday

I have a new baby girl. None of my clothes fit at the moment and I refuse to buy some that will hopefully only last a few months while I try to work off my muffin top. Don't get me wrong, I love me some muffin tops, but I prefer apple cinnamon strudel or cranberry orange, to wearing it around my waist (and trust me, you don't want to see this). So, in the mean time, I will be doing my wardrobe via polyvore.

Enjoy!

Everyday wear by babyruth30 featuring 18 karat gold jewelry

Happy 30th!! Here's some acne...

"What the heck? I'm 30 and getting acne??"
I've heard this a lot. Seriously, it happens to almost every woman. They swear they've never had acne as a teenager but all of a sudden they're starting to break out now that they are in their late 20's and in their 30's. To which I reply that they should consider themselves lucky. They were fortunate enough not to have to deal with this disfiguring disease while trying to navigate through the shark infested water that is highschool.

Okay...So, I don't actually say that.

Ladies, there is a logical explanation for this:
Like we do with almost everything, we need to blame men. Oh, wait no...it's the second thing we blame everything on: hormones.

Your body isn't turning cells over as quickly (thanks to the loss of hyaluronic acid) but it's still cranking out testosterone (which produces sebum, aka oil). Also, your estrogen is decreasing. Estrogen gives you that youthful glow and helps to keep acne at bay.

What to do about it:

* Practice a good skin care regimen: cleanse (don't go to sleep wearing make-up! I would suggest a cleanser that uses glycolic, lactic, or salicylic acid ), moisturize (seriously, you actually produce more oil when you skip this step), treat (weekly masks, spot treatment using a zinc and sulfur mask, night cream, and of course a good sunscreen).

* Exfoliate (at least twice a week. You need to help your skin slough off the old skin so the oil is less likely to get trapped. But start off slowly and for heaven's sake do.not.scrub too hard! This just aggravates your skin and causes even more breakouts).

* Use Hyaluronic-acid-fortified lotions

* Also, using hormone skin creams with plant estrogens like soy, red clover extract, and grapeseed extract can help if you start using them early

* I don't necessarily recommend this, but if you're okay with it, using birth control pills can also help to regulate those crazy hormones

* And probably most importantly- reduce your sugar intake. Sugar boosts testosterone, suppresses estrogen levels, and robs skin of elasticity.

* Drink plenty of water. I'm talkin' like you think you're going to float away.

* Try not to stress (HA!)

* Try to get your eight hours of beauty sleep (double HA!)

Also, when choosing your skincare products, don't over do it. Too many harsh chemicals can just irritate your skin more.

Fairy Tall Tale

Fairy tales are just that. Tales. We try to tell ourselves that everybody else's life is not a fairy tale, but that our lives will magically turn out that way. We will find our prince charming and he will live up to all that his name implies. He will be romantic, sensitive yet masculine. He will always be there when we need him. He will always put our needs first. {FYI- Reading too many love stories and watching too many chick flicks may or may not encourage you to try to kiss a guy who, by the way, has no interest in you like that, in front of his best friend. Awkward.}

My husband and I were engaged only a couple of months after our first official date. I didn't know him. He didn't know me. We hadn't even had time to become friends. I caught a glimpse of who he really was the night before our wedding. Don't worry, it wasn't a sign of any abuse to come. It's just that he was...grumpy. I know, right? He obviously hadn't read the Official Prince Charming Handbook and he wasn't aware that grumpiness was definitely not part of the code. I was a bit shocked, but like I said, it was the night before we became married for all.time.and eternity. I couldn't cancel it. What about the gifts? What about the reception? What about the dress?? No. I assured myself that he was just having prewedding jitters. Well... I was wrong. It turns out that his grumpiness (and not to mention nagging and lecture telling and impatience) were terminal. There was no curing this. There was no training it out of him. The opening-doors-for-me stopped. The flowers stopped. He had won his prize, there was no need to try any longer. At least, that's what I was thinking.

Now, you see, I'm a product of a divorce. As a matter of fact, my parents were going through their divorce while I was dating my husband. I promised myself that I would absolutely never get a divorce. My children would have both of their parents. Always. It didn't matter if it was after they were "old enough". There's no such thing. So what was I supposed to do in a loveless marriage? I took a good look at my husband and I realized that it in fact wasn't loveless. I was the one making things harder by trying to fit my perfectly good husband into someone he wasn't. My husband isn't a smooth talker that dotes on my every need, but he's faithful. My husband may not swoop me into his arms as we head to our boudoir, but he holds me close and kisses the crown of my head when I need to cry. He won't challenge someone to a duel to avenge my honour, but he'll get upset with me and jump right in calling the offending person a witch. He takes out the trash, mows the lawn, gets up at the crack of dawn to go to work every morning. He's not prince charming, but the longer I've been married, the more I realize that who knows how the great prince really acted. Only Cinderella. The longer I'm married the more I realize that it's not up to him to make me content and happy with my life...it's up to me. I make up the rules and only I can determine my attitude.

I may not have married the elusive prince charming, but my husband is my King, I am his Queen, and my castle is a messy little white house in suburb America. I'm living my own story and writing a new kind of fairytale. My happily ever after is now.

Where'd She go?

Sometimes I miss the "old me". I want to burn these grown up clothes, put my old studded belt and converse back on, and go riding off on my skateboard. I really don't like trying to conform into what I should be...I've never been good at it. Sure, I can pull it off. Buy designer jeans, a cute flouncy top with a pair of wedges, my hair all teased with a flower in it...but I feel so fake...like I'm acting but I've forgotten my script. Well, tomorrow I think I'll break out the old clothes...let's see what people say...*insert an evil grin*

Me, Myself, and I

Women are social beings. I try not to be, but I honestly can't help it. One Sunday, after a long morning of 4 baby blessings, I was sitting in church determined to sulk in a corner at my barrenness...but as soon as someone I didn't know sat next to me a smile betrayed me, leaping into place and my hand involuntarily went out. Before I knew it a rather chipper "Hi!" had escaped my lips.
Why is this such a bad thing? It's not at first, but friendship is a fickle thing, and I am horrible at it. I will do anything for a friend...except call them. Plus at this stage of life, you inevitably lose those you thought were your friends. Too many things change: jobs, circumstances.
So, is it really better to have loved and lost? I'm sot sure. I'm inclined to say that when it comes to friendship, I would much rather be on my own little island with my husband, kids and stacks and stacks of good books.

Halloween Decor

{Be sure to take note of the little witch's broom on top of the bowl}
Country Living


Pottery Barn

In a car accident, there is only time to do one thing: react. Are my children okay, am I okay? Call 911. I have been in several of these situations. A few of them were minor ones, where there was only a dent to worry about, paperwork to fill out, insurance to deal with. And there have been a couple bigger incidents. I was in a rollover accident. While time seemed to slow down as if we were spinning in a lake of dark brown molasses, the result were the same: am I okay? Are my friends okay? Go get help. I wasn't afraid. There wasn't any time for such an emotion.

Yesterday, I was driving down a somewhat small road when I came to a red light. My thoughts were occupied on trying to plan my route into the city when the light changed to green. Not in any rush to get to my destination, I slowly started to accelerate. A flash of white in the corner of my left eye. Swerving, I slammed on my brakes. The smell of burnt rubber hot in my nose. The car sped on his way. Not even a second went by. I was completely fine. My son was still sleeping in the back. Life was back to normal. There was time for fear.

All I wanted to do in that moment was go running into the arms of my husband and have him stroke my hair and kiss my forehead. However, he was hours away blissfully unaware that life as we knew it almost came to an end. So I settled for a phone call, scaring him half to death when he answered his phone to a hyperventilating wife. Due to my other encounters and the fact that I'm acutely aware that these wonderful machines can in fact kill me, I decided that I was in no conditions to try and navigate the crowded streets of the city. I turned back around and tried to take the "safest" way home.

Nothing happened. I struggled that day with feeling a mixture of anger and extreme thankfulness. Mostly angry because had the car hit me, he would have hit the side where my son was peacefully resting. Yet, I know that I have been so blessed. Had I been on the phone, had I been in a hurry, had I been changing the radio station, there would have been a different story to tell, or perhaps there would have been no one left to tell any story at all.