The Daily Fuss

Polite Conversation

As a mother of a five month-old and a two year-old, I am definitely in a place in my life where many of my daily conversations revolve around boobs and poop.

I'm sure one day, Ryan and I will be sitting on the couch enjoying a glass of wine, and one of us will say, "Wow. We haven't talked about boobs and poop in such a long time. I really miss having little kids."

I'm not saying that I don't enjoy having wee ones. I absolutely do. I'm simply commenting on the frequency with which I say those words - "boobs" and "poop" on a daily basis. It's stunning really.

The whole "boobs" talk has everything to do with breastfeeding. They're either sore or exploding or Leighton just jumped on my lap and kneed me in one of them or they don't fit in my shirt or I need to pump while driving my minivan to the city for a meeting while taking a conference call and putting on my makeup. Kidding, of course.

The "boobs" talk will terminate when Mairin turns one year old. I will cry like a baby on that day and I can't really go there mentally, so right now I refuse to take the "boobs" talk for granted. Mairin eats like a champ and has since the day she was born. Many moms and babies struggle with breastfeeding and we don't. So yay for small victories and yay for boobs.

As for the "poop" talk, Leighton has been completely and totally potty trained for a while now. Still, most of the time, she tells us what she's doing on the potty when she's about to do it, is doing it or has already done it.

Lei has no idea that the running commentary on her business is not polite conversation. It's so normal for her to announce to everyone in the room, "I have to poop" - mostly because we've been making such a big deal out of it for some time now. And, because we have no less than eleven books on the subject. When she first started using the potty, we would cheer and clap and call grandmas and grandpas and tell anyone who would listen "Did you know Leighton poops on the potty?"

So yes, of course she believes that our neighbors and friends want to hear about it. They do, or they should, because the fact that my twenty-seven month-old poops on the potty every day without fail is AMAZING.

I am a proud mama. I celebrate the simplest things and tiniest victories - several of which involve poop and boobs today.

What the Fuss? Midnight Recovery

Stop blaming summer, your kids, your age or the fact that you just can't seem to remember to drink enough water for those days when your skin looks less than lustrous.

Two drops of Kiehl's Midnight Recovery Concentrate before bed revitalizes you from the neck up by morning.

Generally skeptical, I may not have believed had I not tried it. But it works. Some days, I wake up looking younger than when I went to bed.

And, at two drops per use, one $43 ounce should last months. 

We regularly buy Kiehl's moisturizers, men's shaving items, sunscreens and baby products - all of which come with amazing samples. You get even more bang for your buck when you split up the orders to meet the minimum free shipping and maximum free sample thresholds. Usually $50.

On my last order, I received three generous samples of Midnight Recovery Concentrate. I'm still making my way through them and I'm hooked. When those little bottles of magic run dry, I will gladly restock this liquid gold. 

Hair Raiser

Our little pumpkin has certainly been blessed with silky wisps of baby hair that dovetail into a mulletous tuft of fuzzy half-curls in the back.

It's a good look for her. This diaphanous cap accentuates the cherubic cheeks and wide eyes, playing up the angelic angle even when she's sassing you. We love it.

She brushes her own hair daily with a soft toy brush and then turns to Bitty Baby's molded plastic mane. Hair gets some attention from her, but has never been a focus. Until recently.

On Kate's last day, she gathered a few strands of Lei's spun gold into a teeny pony and fastened it up with what appeared to be a giant elastic. Leighton looked at herself in the mirror no less than one hundred times with her awesome new look.

Last week, my cousin Kristine hooked Lei up with another mini pony. Something clicked for little Lei that day. She's been pony-obsessed all week. 

Today, she spent twenty minutes, on two separate occasions, hunting in the couch cushions for random elastics. And found a few.

She lamely attempted to use them herself before insisting I oblige. Then to the mirror to admire and admire and admire her style.

I have short hair, so this whole pony-influence doesn't come from me - it comes from her friends - her caregivers whom she admires. Kate, Kristine, Anneke - three lovely ladies with long, beautiful, blonde hair.

Her new obsession is adorable, but I feel a little bit bad for her. Doesn't she know she's not a prime candidate for hair accessories? I can handle ponies and pigtails for now, but she'll be four years-old before I even think about introducing her to a barrette.

Loser Wardrobe Challenge Part I

I see how it happens. You wake up one day and realize that you've been rotating the same two pair of stretchy-fold-over-waist-lycra-blend pants for months and you can't even remember if they're really maternity pants or not.

What's worse, you decide that you will do no more than "trim" your hair until you've lost the last of the baby weight.

Or maybe it's just me.

Nah. If I were alone in this, Oprah would never have makeover shows, Real Simple magazine would fold and Stacy and Clinton would be job hunting.

I have some fabulous pieces in my wardrobe. I just don't know if they will ever fit me again. Or, if I will like them anymore by the time they do. This leads me to the single conclusion that I must inject some rules of reality tv into my life and create my own weight-loss makeover challenge. Kind of like The Biggest Loser meets What Not to Wear.

What Not to Lose? What Losers Wear? I'm not sure what to call it, but I will lose the last of the baby weight, clean out my closets and then buy a new wardrobe. Eeeeeeeyah! I feel motivated and empowered. Loser Wardrobe Challenge maybe? 

Sounds simple enough.

Here's the plan: Step 1 - Clean out closets and make eBay pile. Oh how I do love eBay. Step 2 - Stop eating. Just kidding. Hit the gym. Step 3 - List my eBay goodies. Step 4 - Enlist the help of my cousins-stylists, choose stores and make hair appointments. Step 5 - Makeover/Shopping day is November 7th.

This will be fun. Unless Baby Fever gets the best of me. If it does, we'll do a maternity makeover.

Does this sound familiar, dear readers? If you starred in a reality tv show, what would it be? Please share your fuss with us!

What the Fuss? Butter Fingers

No formaldehyde. No toluene. No Dibutyl Phthalate.  Excuse me?

Dibutyl Phthalate is DBP, another member of the pesky phthalate family. BPA is another. If you don’t want it in your baby bottles and nukkas, why put it on your pretty little fingers?

Three Free Nail Polish from Butter London is fabulous without the three, aforementioned, barely spellable toxins. Perfect for preggies, mommies, women in general or anyone with fingers actually.

Butter London Three Free lacquer covers beautifully in one coat (two for good measure with the darker colors) and dries quickly. I don’t even use a top coat. Frankly, I no longer have time. There’s a reason it’s called Butter. I love this nail polish.

Okay, so $14 for nail polish is decidedly NOT FREE. However, it lasts and works so very well. Worth $14 in my opinion. It helps you to be a tad more discerning about the color choice.

Yummy Mummy is my hands-down favorite. It’s a taupe, grey, purple-ish color that racks up mad compliments. Plus it’s non toxic for your kids’ health and yours. Your fingers will smell yummy, not stinky, and with very little effort you can look … well … polished.

This product review conforms to the Fuss Formula.

Have you tried Butter London? What's your favorite color? Please share your fuss with us!