Like Riding a Bike

Exactly six weeks ago I was driving my car and talking to my kids about their falling grades and sagging attitudes.  I had to admit that I, too, was not quite myself in the home-stretch of waiting for our home to be built.  My kiddos, who are usually good students, were seeing their second-quarter grades drop into oblivion.  They both admitted that they could do better, and they just hadn’t been putting forth the effort like they used to.  I in turn admitted that I hadn’t been doing all my “mom duties” like I used to either.  I let stress wear me down, almost to the point of illness again.  My purpose-driven-ness got put on autopilot, and many of my own “Oh-no-I-WON’Ts” morphed into “Oh-what-the-hells.” It was a rough autumn, to say the least.

My own parents are Super-Heroes for taking us all in.  For four solid months I did not cook, clean, wash laundry or make a bed.  I think I only fed my dogs twice in all that time.  Knowing how hard it was for all of us to be without permanent residence, my mom made good-and-sure that we were spoiled like last week’s fruit.  I vocalized only once, but secretly feared for at least two months, that I would completely forget how to maintain a household.  (I love you, Mom!)

We moved in to our new house on December 7, and though we were so glad to have our own place, I wondered if I would actually find my feet again in my new kitchen and utility room.  I am pleased to say that I have.

Baby Girl was sick the entire first week after our move, and while I felt I really needed to be at work, the cosmos and my husband felt otherwise and set me straight pretty quickly.  As the Hubster pointed out, “She is sick.  She needs to stay home and rest.  And, you have more sick time than I do.”  Point taken.  So in between reading to Vic and checking for fever, I unpacked a box or two and then decided we were going to need to eat, and if I had anything to say about it, we were NOT eating more fast food.  (Yes – I had regressed THAT far!)  I pulled out the dutch oven, washed off the summer’s storage dust, and proceeded to make Red Beans and Sausage.  Then I whipped up some olive mix, made muffalettas and baked a whole chicken in my sparkly new-fangled oven.  I’m sharing all this to express my surprise that my domestic abilities have not faded with the season.

I bet I could still ride a bike if I tried!  But it’s rainy and cold, and I’m a weather wimp, so that experiment will have to wait.

Rites of Passage and Rules of the Road

Tags

beauty, cosmetics, girls and makeup

I came home one day last week to a slightly made-up version of my 10-year old daughter: a little eye shadow, some mascara and lip gloss.   Mom had prepared me that Vic was asking to “practice” with some cosmetics and had been provided with her own sampling of some Grandmama-approved colors.  Mom knew that I would have no problem with the quality of the cosmetics because we both buy our beauty products from the same place.  (That would be from Lisa at Style Essentials, for those of you who might be curious.  We love her!)  I asked Mom over the phone if Vic’s friends were wearing makeup already.  She replied, “Apparently, there’s been talk of it.”

Ohhhh, great.

I admit I get a tad squeamish when I see little girls with their faces made up.  I try not to go all judgemeister on the moms; I know we all pick our battles.  But two things instantly blaze through my mind when I see pre-teens wearing makeup reminiscent of 80’s glam rock:  1) what ungodly chemicals are seeping into that baby’s face? And 2) what message are we giving our daughters?  Do we really have to wear makeup to be “pretty?”  Is “being pretty” all that it’s cracked up to be?  Is it the be-all/end-all of womanhood?

While I want my daughter to answer “NO!” to each of those questions, I admit that I rarely (if ever) leave the house without at least a hint of powder and mascara.  I don’t walk into a store wearing my pajamas and sporting bed-head; a little makeup, to me, is as important as getting dressed and combing my hair.  At some point, the line is crossed from showing respect for ourselves to drawing attention to ourselves.  I’d like for my child to keep it all in perspective.

I hope to teach my daughter that beauty is on the inside.  It’s what you see with the heart, not with the eyes.  Beauty is who you are when you think no one is looking.  Women will always be their own worst critics; I know I am.  Ultimately, who my daughter is on the inside is far more important to me than how she looks on the outside.  As she matures, nothing would please me more than for her to hold the same values.

But, I put all my worrying to the side for the moment and focus on the rules of makeup with her.  I have a few. (You knew I would.)

Makeup Rule #1: Makeup should not look like makeup.  If I can see it before I see you, it’s too much.

Makeup Rule #2: If you put it on your face, you must take it off before bedtime.  Skin care is of utmost importance.  No sleeping in makeup, no matter how natural the product is.

Makeup Rule #3: You do not share makeup with other people.  Ever.  (Ewww.)  In fact, I hereby invoke my Mom Authority to limit the sharing of personal items to tee-shirts and shoes, even though the shoe thing is still against my better judgment.

Makeup Rule #4: I will approve and buy the makeup.   There is no need for you to ever even entertain the notion of putting mainstream, chemical-laden cosmetics on your skin.

Makeup Rule #5: You will read the ingredient labels.  You will become familiar with and knowledgeable about what you are putting on your skin.  Then, at the very least, when you go off the rails in college and sport CoverGirl to your heart’s content, you can’t use ignorance as a defense.  In other words, Mama’s not gonna raise no fool.

For now, Vic’s experience with cosmetics will be limited to learning how to use a few select things (pale shadow and lip gloss, cleansers and moisturizers).  I began wearing makeup in middle school at age 12; my baby girl will be there next year at age 11.  I’m not ready for her to be glammed out by next August, so we will navigate these waters slowly, carefully and together.

She is, after all, the reason I know all this stuff in the first place.

Crazy from the Ashes

Today begins the liturgical season of Lent for many religious denominations.  In my Catholic household, dinner table talk centered last night around what each of us is willing to “give up” in observance of the sacrificial season.  Among the suggestions, my wisenheimer kids offered to release their hold on such things as “homework,” “messing up [my] room,” and even “Mabel!”

Har, har, har.

Finally…and I might have sort of, um, maybe, well, suggested it…it was decided that the males would give up donuts.   We make considerably frequent visits to Southern Maid, so it’s a pretty fair sacrifice.

Vic decided to give up talking on the house phone.  It will take half of Lent to spread the word to her friends, but, like the donuts, is ultimately worth it in my opinion.  Even if I get only one week at the end of Lent without the house phone ringing off the wall at hours well past my own children’s bedtime, it will be sooooo worth it.

And then came the magic question:  “Mom, what are you giving up for Lent?”  Ugh.  Here goes.  Once I verbalize this thought, there is no going back.  Should I? Do I dare utter it aloud?…

“Snoozing my alarm clock, and…oh dear…Starbucks.”

Shocked and horrified gasps echoed off of our freshly painted and still bare walls.  I know, right??

To be fair, at the start of the last three Lenten seasons I have considered this option, and casually convinced myself that sacrificing coffee (of all things!) was really not the point.  Unnecessary.  I mean, I don’t live at Starbucks, after all.  I’m there once, maybe twice, a week.  Okay, okay…sometimes three times a week.  (Sheesh!  Let it rest, will ya?)

And so, in light of this confession and the fact that this year I will focus on the sacrifice of something I really and truly enjoy rather than trying to avoid sacrificing by swearing that I’ll pull extra duty on some chore I detest, here goes.  The anchor is dropped.  I will buoy here in my Starbucks-barren waters for the next forty days.  Wish me luck.

Dear Lord, please please please let Starbucks be open on Easter Sunday.  Amen.  

Weighing In On Childhood Obesity

Good Morning America ran a news report last week that addressed whether or not excessively obese children should be taken from their parents.  I watched the report with suspicious interest and a you-have-got-to-be-seriously-HIGH look on my face.

Let me get this straight…People really think it’s okay to split up an otherwise functional family because of a child’s size??

We are high.

Weight issues aside, here is what ultimately irks me about the whole darn thing:  It’s not the parents’ fault.

Yes, I get that overweight children can face more harmful health consequences.  I believe with all my heart that parents set the example that their children will follow.  I believe the parent is the primary educator of the child and is responsible for how that child grows.

But I absolutely in good conscience CANNOT blame childhood obesity on parents who are trying to live the day-to-day, buying FOOD and products that are 1) produced to be unhealthy, 2) marketed to cost-conscious consumers, and 3) directly responsible for our nation’s health problems, obesity included.

For any group, government or otherwise, to promote the idea of taking children away from parents who are simply buying what is allowed to be marketed as sustenance, when that same group refuses not only to admit that our food supply is basically oil and antibiotics but also refuses to hold the food industry accountable for the crap they are selling us is not only asinine, it is inhumane.

I want to slap people over this.

Consider, please: I was one of those people – a mere year and a half ago –  who scoffed at organic, let my children eat Skittles and drink sugar-free beverages, went through bottled water like toilet paper, and rolled my eyes at everyone I deemed a “nutjob” who told me things like, “Chicken is the nastiest animal you can eat.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Pass the McNuggets, would ya?

The problem is not that we don’t care; the problem is that we are not informed.  I believed the words on the front of the package.  I thought the food companies were the good guys.  I thought the FDA protected consumers from carcinogens and toxins.  And I thought I was doing just fine.

One children’s obesity expert is cited in the news article as saying “In severe instances of childhood obesity, removal from the home may be justifiable, from a legal standpoint, because of imminent health risks and the parents’ chronic failure to address medical problems.”  This makes me want to spit nails!!!

We all want to look at fat and sugar and blame them for our lots.  So we lower the fat and the sugar, but then the food tastes different.  Not bad, but different.  In a society that has been trained to hold dear a singular, constant taste this can be detrimental to sales.  So we add in all sorts of synthetic ingredients that won’t affect fat or sugar, but still manage to “beef up” the product so that it tastes no different from the fat-and-sugar-laden items.  It is these synthetic ingredients that do us the most harm.  In my opinion, fat and sugar should be ingested in moderation.  Synthetic ingredients should not be ingested at all.  So when a parent reaches for a low-sugar version of the real thing, thinking that he or she is making a healthy choice, and the (immediately-) unseen result is more damage to the family’s health, can you honestly say that the parent is to blame?  I can’t.

And what about the people who aren’t reaching for low-fat and low-sugar items?  The synthetic ingredients and the corn products and the hydrogen-inflated oils are cheaper to make and use. (Yes, pump oil full of gas – what happens?  It expands.  Wow, look!  Now we have MORE for the same price!)  This means that we can market “foods” (geez, I use that word loosely!) to sell at lower prices while keeping the food industry’s profit margins high.

Look, I can sell you a mud-pie full of sugar and call it a chocolate cake.  And my icing will be made from used motor oil.  The motor oil version will be cheaper because I’m going to drain it right out of my car, and this way I can call it “fresh.”  Oil is a natural product of the earth’s structure, so I can now advertise my cake as “made with fresh, all-natural ingredients!”  I’ll have to add a lot of ingredients you’ve never heard of so that I can make it taste just like real chocolate, but when I’m finished with it you won’t be able to tell the difference.  It will be sold right next to more expensive “real” chocolate cakes, but you will buy my cake because of the buzzwords on the package, and the lower cost.  Oh, by the way, some scientist in Switzerland knows that consuming the ingredients of this cake eventually makes children grow a second head, but his report will never reach your ears as long as I make sure our legislators keep the FDA impotent.   But that two-headed kid of yours?  Probably gonna see foster care against your will.  After all, YOU bought the cake!

What say you?

Day 346: A Quick Start Guide to Healthy

My friend Alison over at The Secret Life of a Warrior Woman has compiled a weight-loss guide that is fully downloadable FOR FREE.

For reals.

When I read her post introducing the guide her words resonated with me so strongly.  She talks about the power of food — the power it has to control our moods, our body function and – of course – our weight.

People: read this.  Alison is so on-target with this subject.  She has some great advice for taking it slow and deliberate, and she makes it actually do-able.  This is the stuff we think about but never really formulate a plan for.  Well, now there’s a plan.

When I started changing all of our personal care products and our food ingredients to exclude harmful chemicals I noticed an increase in my own weight loss.  I had been trying
(half-heartedly) for years to rid myself of the last 20-or-so pounds of baby fat.  (Some years it was 15, some years it was 22…my point here being that it was unwanted.) I began by counting calories and increasing fiber – a difficult combination in and of itself.  ThankTheGoodLord it was Lent and there were less sweets hanging around my office!  I found myself slowly starting to lose the weight, and that encouraged me to stay dedicated.

But then summer hit and I plateaued with 5 pounds to go.  I was stuck like Chuck.  And I was not happy about it!

Then came all this ADHD worry and my research began with a focus on dietary changes.  Chemicals.  Rascally, rotten chemicals were everywhere.  I couldn’t read about their
potential effects without becoming enraged.  I read and researched and started a blog. And I nixed just about every manufactured chemical that came across my path and my pantry.

And in the midst of removing the chemicals from my shampoos, soaps, makeup, lotions, foods, snacks, laundry detergent and beverages I lost my final five pounds PLUS an additional three.  My pants were falling off of me but I did not care! I had found a problem and eliminated it to the absolute best of my ability in my own home.

I have so many reasons for eliminating the chemicals and encouraging you to do the same.  Weight loss is just one of the awesome benefits.  I greatly appreciate Alison for echoing what I have been thinking for almost a year now.

Make a purpose-driven choice for better health.  Check out her guide.  You won’t be sorry.

Day 338: Deal With It

You got a minute?  Can I offer some unsolicited advice?  I mean, waaaaaaaaaay unsolicited.  Like, the kind of advice you really don’t want to hear, but I’m gonna eventually say anyway because I love you.

You gotta deal with this matter.  You have to.  Hear me?  It’s going to ruin your health (even more than it already has), your marriage and your family.  This thing is bigger than you, and you need help to get through it.

I’m here.

WE are here.

I’m going to say things you won’t like, and that you may even hate me for.  I have already thought of all the outcomes, and I have concluded that you cannot hate me more than I love you.  So, I’m starting out like this, to give you a heads up that I know what’s up, and I am going to force it into the light so that you can be free of the burden.

It will hurt.  I’m not going to lie and say this is going to be easy.  There will be tears and screams, and possibly even some threats.  Not from me, but from you.  I anticipate it and I am already forgiving it.  But we are still going to deal with it.

A lie is a lie is a lie.  Did you know that the human is the only creature capable of lying to itself?  We can do whatever we think is “justified” and we can say that “it doesn’t hurt anyone,” but the truth is that one lie causes you to make another.  And another, and another…until the lie is bigger than you and it’s spinning out of control, and then you have to lie to yourself and say, “It’s all going to be okay.  Life is temporary.  We should live and have fun!”

Only, you’re not really living.  You’re lying.

Lying is cheating, and cheating is infidelity.  Whether it is committed against your spouse, your friends, or your God. None of us are perfect, but I believe we are put here to learn to love, and we cannot love a lie.  We cannot knowingly support a lie and be truly happy and at peace.

Do you know why we Catholics go to Confession?  Because it forces us to say out loud what we have tried so hard to hide.  Confession often is misunderstood as being punishment itself, until we get in there and participate in the Sacrament.  There is such immense freedom in letting it out – really letting it out.  Once you say it, it’s outside of you, and there’s someone right there beside you to tell you that God loves you and heals you and wants you to experience this freedom.

I want you to experience freedom too.  I know you feel like you will lose freedom if you come clean.  Realize that as part of the healing process, YES, your habits will have to change.  Changing your habits will change your mindset.  Changing your mindset will enrich your life.  Enriching your life will enable you to live and grow to who you are supposed to be.

I am not judging you.  I am not perfect.  We all make mistakes.  But I hope you love me enough to be this honest when you see me heading down the wrong road.

I hope you will force me to deal with it.

I have been vague on purpose, for the privacy of my friend.  This advice could be given to anyone for any situation.  If you got an email from me with a direct link to this post, then I’m talking to you.  And I love you.

[5 minutes later] Oops… this does NOT apply to those of you who are subscribed to receive automatic emails to my posts.  Yikes.  Sorry about that!!

Day 322: Today May Be the Day You Need It…

When my children were born the issue that plagued me the most was car seat safety.  I admit, I read everything in my path related to child safety.  I scoured books and articles with advice on everything from how to do baby CPR to how to save an injured tooth.  I childproofed every cabinet.  All cleaning products went into storage above the refrigerator.  Outlets were safety-capped and cords were constrained.  Bumper guards protected them from sharp corners and gates were affixed at the staircase. 

And the car seats were inspected by me, Dom, my father and the state police, lest any haphazard inattention to detail go unchecked.

I kept close watch on the weight limits of every car seat.  I registered every one of them so I would be notified in the event of a recall. I knew when to replace them, when to adjust them for growth, and when to be done with them completely.

Let me go on the record now and say: We are not done with them yet.

My children abhor the booster seats.  Not that I blame them.  I can vividly recall using plastic booster seats at restaurant tables when I was little, and being SOOOO grateful when I was finally pronounced “big enough” to sit in the regular chair without the boost.  So I get it when my kids complain that they HAAAAAAAAAATE the booster seats. 

But, state law says 4’9” is the magic height to finally be out of a booster.  My oldest has two inches to go.  The booster seats accommodate children up to 80 pounds.  My kids are 58 and 68 pounds.  So, Mom’s Rule is that they still must ride in the boosters. 

They hate me for it.

When we pull up to the school, the children insist on being let out “at the bridge” at the front of the school so they can walk up to the building, rather than going through the traditional carpool line and being assisted by the 4^th and 5^th grade Safety Patrol.  It finally dawned on me that perhaps they don’t want their peers to see them climbing out of a booster seat in our vehicle.  And I so want to help them avoid harassment and embarrassment.  But at what cost?

Having read every article ever published on car seat safety and the necessary regulations that govern them, I recall only one with painful clarity.  A mom let her 6-year old ride in the front seat of their SUV.  He seemed big enough.  He was wearing his seatbelt, after all.  And mom was conscientious enough to have disabled the airbag.  But during the drive she swerved a tiny bit and her tire caught the shoulder in such a way that caused her to lose control of her vehicle.  The SUV rolled.  The passenger door came flying open.  And the 6-year old too quickly and too easily slipped out of the seatbelt’s hold and glided underneath the rolling vehicle.  His little body was just too small, too light, for the seatbelt to restrain him properly.  His mother is now an advocate for child safety restraints in vehicles.

I do not ever want to pay such a high price to care so much.

Vehicle seat belts are made to properly restrain adults in the violent reactions of physics during a crash.   A child is different.  That is why there ARE child safety restraints.  Booster seats raise the child up so that the lap belt rests across their lap in the proper way, and makes the shoulder restraint fit them better, so that in the event of a crash the child has more of the height properties of an adult and is more likely to avoid injury.  Car seats of all kinds are designed to help the seat belt function properly.  If that seat belt is not ready for my 58 pound daughter, then she is not ready for it. 

I see children much smaller than my own riding in the back seat with no booster, and worse, riding in the front seat.  All the time.  I know my kids think it’s embarrassing to be in a booster seat at ages 9 and 10.  But I also know there is nothing the mother whom I mentioned earlier wouldn’t give to have her child sitting safely in the back seat in his booster, to have rolled that SUV and not lost the most precious thing she had. 

When talking about seat belts in general, I heard a guy say this morning that he encourages people to “Wear your seatbelt today.  Today may be the day you need it.”

For as long as my children fit the requirements for booster seats, they will ride in them.  My purpose, after all, is to keep them healthy and safe. And, BECAUSE. I. SAID. SO!

Day 316: Keeping It Simple

My most recent Facebook status update went something like this: “People are always for healthy lifestyle change until it affects their lifestyle.”  I was in a rather sullen mood this weekend, despite it being the most glorious weekend of the Church year.  It felt like everywhere I turned somebody was throwing one more excuse in my face as to why traditional Easter candy with all its preservatives and artificial colors is okay (duhhhhhh, Mom!), frozen pies from God-knows-where are perfectly acceptable, and crappy chemical ingredients are just fine as long as “it tastes good!”  

So I threw a tantrum.  Yep.  Lenten promise #3 out the window.  I actually let out a primal scream.  One dog came to see what was wrong and the other dog ran and hid.  My husband blinked at me in disbelief. I have to admit, I felt much better after that.

I can see a bit more clearly now, and I have profusely apologized to all the heartbeats in my home for the inappropriate disruption to our daily lives.  Many thanks to my sister-in-law, Kasie, who served as my light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel on Sunday, and brought me back to myself. 

So what do you do when it seems all hope for healthy change is spiraling down the toilet at breakneck speed?  I mean, aside from yelling at everyone you love and accidentally wounding yourself in your own Tasmanian-devil-style fit? 

You find something small, and you focus on that one thing until you can mentally (and emotionally) handle everything else.  I focused on my garden and flowerbeds.  They look lovely. 

This whole spiral-into-oblivion got me thinking about little ways in which we can make healthier choices – little bits of good that we can focus on until the rest is manageable.  Here’s my tentative list of little things to do that can eventually lead to big change:

• Change your makeup remover and/or moisturizer.  I’ve been using almond oil as moisturizer exclusively for two months now, and it works really well.  It’s relatively inexpensive, totally natural, and a little goes a long way.  Making this one change will save your face from at least nine chemicals a day.
• Switch to buying organic milk and/or eggs.  Just this one little change to your habits can make a big difference for you and your family.
• Buy small quantities.  Mega grocery stores and warehouses are great if you consume a trailer-load of food and disposables in a relatively short time period.  But I always found that buying food in bulk made me waste more.  It’s very hard to break the habit of thinking I need to “stock up” on something, especially if it’s on sale, but refocusing on what I will actually consume in a smaller period of time helps keep my grocery budget in check. 
• Buy one or two versions of organic fruit or vegetables. Think of the fruits or vegetables you’re going to want to eat or cook with this week, and buy the organic variety this time.
• Plant your favorite herb and use it fresh while you cook.  Fresh herbs make any dish better, and knowing where it came from and how it has been treated is an added benefit you can enjoy every time you cook.  Plus, plants are happy little fellas. 
• Drink 8 ounces of water right when you wake up in the morning.  I have not done this exclusively yet, but I did it for a while during the winter and I noticed that it helped me continue drinking water through the rest of the day.   Water makes your skin healthy.  Healthy skin doesn’t show age as fast.  Where’s my glass????
• Plan two meals a week, if you’re not on a meal planning schedule already.  It doesn’t have to be fancy, but put real effort into it.  Having a plan ahead of time makes the cooking more fun, and the meal more enjoyable.    And just think of the money you’ll save by not eating out!
• Drink a glass of green tea a day.  Add some orange or lemon and honey to it for some flavor. 

Well, that just about exhausts my wee little mind for the day.  😉  I’m off to move the sprinkler so my new flowers can drink up.

Day 306: While I Am Out…

I am presently on my way to a family reunion with my parents, leaving behind Dom and the kids to manage our household and care for each other. Before I left this morning, I assigned each person a chore to keep them busy while I’m away.

I told my son that he is responsible for watering my garden each day when the sun is not shining directly on it. “Water it real good so it’s not thirsty,” I told him, knowing that he would appreciate any chore that involves water.

Vic began to get offended that Aaron scored the watering chore, and that’s when I told her that she is responsible for making sure Mason (the older dog) gets his medicine each morning and night and gets his ears cleaned. I know Dom will take care of Mason in my absence, but its easy to forget that he needs the meds when he no longer appears sickly, and I know Vic will supply the proper amount of nagging. 😉

And then I asked Dom to please not let me come home to a houseful of dirty laundry on a Sunday night.

Everyone agreed to their assigned chores and bid me a safe trip before they left for school and work. Please send some positive-energy, you-can-make-it-without-mama vibes their way to get them through the weekend.

I’ll be back on Monday, friends. 🙂

Day 296: Magazine Madness, Managed!

I have always been a fan of Southern Living magazine, for no other reason at first than that I truly believed I would grow up to exemplify Southern hospitality, charm and style.  I believed I would grow tomatoes and hydrangeas equally, and that my decorating and entertaining skills would be unparalleled.  I would cook and clean and mother and love everything and everyone, all while holding down a full-time job, where I would bring coffee and home-baked pastries to all my dear coworkers…daily.

Can you see the giant “S” on my chest?  What was I thinking?!!?  I was setting myself up to be Snow White on steroids. Confession:  I didn’t turn out like I imagined (so you can stop gagging now.)

OK, despite the dream, Dom got me my first subscription to Southern Living as soon as we bought our house.  And he has kept it going for ten years.  I do so enjoy reading all the gardening advice and the recipes.  There are such good ideas in each issue.

Sometime around, oh-I-don’t-know 2001 or so, the feature recipe was a watermelon sorbet.  At the time I decided that the sorbet would be a great dessert to serve at a summer work meeting.  So I dog-eared the page and put the magazine in a pile.  (One of those infamous piles Dom has begged me a thousand times to stop making.) As it turns out, I did not buy a watermelon in 2001. I think I was too busy raising a toddler and growing another embryo.  Life… Go figure.

Fast forward to sometime around 2009 when I finally realized I could stop eagle-eyeing my kids to make sure they didn’t bust their heads open on a table ledge or the brick hearth, and I finally bought a watermelon.  Then I wondered what in the world I was going to do with all that fruit.  I remembered the summer sorbet recipe and immediately went on the hunt for it.  What I found was a stack of Southern Living magazines containing every issue published over the previous nine years.  Great.  Which issue was it, again? 

As I rummaged through about 117 magazines, including the special issues that come out during the summer months (yes, really) I realized I needed to get a grip on my magazine love.  I could not find the sorbet recipe to save my life.  I could sense the watermelon giving up on me.  Sadly, I had just fallen in love with a second magazine, Health, and had begun a collection of about 7 issues.  I could already see the danger ahead.  I would end up on Hoarders by the time I hit 45.

So I gathered my magazines, some post it notes and our recycling bin and began to isolate pages I wanted to keep from any issue that was more than two months old.  I tore them out, sorted them into neat little piles, and tossed the remaining bones of the mags into the recycling bin.  The neat little piles strategically went into a divided file jacket with 5 pockets. 

Mischief managed!

Except that post it notes are cumbersome, and I still had to rifle through the mag to find exactly what I thought I had seen.  So I got this idea: page flags in various colors to signify specific topics.  I found these at WalMart and wrote on the back so I can remember what my categories are. 

Now, as I’m perusing a new mag for the first time, I slap an appropriate page flag on whatever I find appealing.  Recipes get the yellow flag; Blue is for exercise, health and medical issues that I need to be mindful of or blog about; green is for the great outdoors; pink signifies decorating ideas and orange is for specific products that I want to find locally or online.  I will leave the magazine intact for just a couple of months.  But when I see a third mag arrive in the mailbox, then it’s time to disassemble the oldest magazine, saving only the pages with flags on them.  The flagged pages can then go into the appropriate file, like so:

 And voila!  Now anytime I think to myself, “Didn’t I see that in a magazine?”  I can go straight to this file jacket and pull out the article. 

That is, if I deemed it important in the first place.  😉