This post was originally going to be all about making my own toothpaste, but as things in my head have a way of doing, it has morphed into a different topic all together. So, briefly I’ll talk about making toothpaste and how my husband feels about it, and then dive into how my husband’s feelings differ from mine about a lot of these ventures I go on.
I was worried about fluoride and other harmful ingredients in toothpaste. I looked up DIY toothpaste on Pinterest (Because Pinterest has the answer to everything.) and found a bunch of recipes. Once again, I wanted the easiest thing imaginable so I went with this one.
Young Living Peppermint oil.
Mix to form a paste, store in glass jar and brush away. I am loving it so far. My teeth feel cleaner than they have in a very long time and my breath has been much better in the morning. The taste takes getting used to because it isn’t sweet, it is salty. Now that it has been almost two weeks, I like it a lot.
Super easy and effective and then… there’s my husband’s opinion. Driving to work the other morning, I pull down my visor and start examining my teeth in the mirror. They looked so shiny and nice, and they felt super smooth when I ran my tongue over them.
Me: “I’m really happy with this toothpaste I made!”
Mike: (Gives me the old side eye look of disapproval and scoffs.) “You’re going to get some weird mouth infection.”
Me: “What?!?!? Why would I get a mouth infection? Making toothpaste is a real thing Mike. Like, other people do it…”
Mike: “Do those people have teeth?”
And this pretty much sums up how he feels about my oils, my home remedies and my DIY projects. He never tells me not to do any of these things, but he just doesn’t see the need. (I hope that a tiny part of him at least finds it charming.) We don’t disagree on a lot of this stuff, but we don’t share enthusiasm either. He would be completely fine buying everything we eat (or rub all over our skin) from the store without ever reading a label or looking into what the ingredients on that label could potentially do to us. In other words, he is “normal.” The people like me, who obsess over parabens and pesticides, are definitely the minority.
Have you seen Knocked Up? There is a particular scene that I swear could have been filmed in my house. Specifically this line:
Debbie: “So, I’m the bad guy because I’m trying to protect our kids from child molesters and mercury, and you’re cool ’cause you don’t give a shit?”
We are not exactly like Pete and Debbie, but pretty damn close. I generally don’t call Mike horrible names or threaten to rip his f&%$*g head off; and Mike does give a shit, (he gives a lot of shits actually) but about the big important things. The other stuff; the child molesters and mercury, those are my department. I share my concerns with him on a constant basis whether he likes it or not. It is usually “not.”
Do you think Grant sounds like he’s wheezing?
Buy the organic strawberries only!
Make sure that guy in the truck goes far ahead of us – he looks drunk.
Honey, remember that time we gave Truman Motrin? Do you think that bottle was part of the recall?
Is the baby breathing? I can’t see his chest moving…
Don’t let Truman in the backyard for at least three days, the exterminator came!
Don’t take an Advil, let me put some oil on it!
Oh my God, please stop buying pre-cooked bacon!
Can you believe how may chemicals there are in deodorant?
Grant MUST have the shoulder straps on in the swing!
This car seat is…NOT…TIGHT…ENOUGH…
Mike rolls his eyes a lot. He knows that our children’s health is extremely important to me and that I like to look at all of the sides of a story rather than just take someone’s word for it, and he does too. He just doesn’t go the extra mile to do all of the research. I like research. I love questioning the norms and determining if we are doing something because it is truly in our best interest or if we are doing it simply because someone told us we didn’t have another option. I believe that most of the time he appreciates the fact that I do the leg work and report my findings back to him. While I know I irritate the crap out of him by condemning his love of microwave bacon and hatred of all green vegetables, I know that he knows I do it all out of love. Other times, of course, I drive him downright insane for no good reason at all.
Yesterday, Zorro our
asshole old cat (once again!) knocked a wine glass from the wine rack and it shattered all over the floor. Sometime later I noticed that Grant’s eye was a little red. Two completely different occurrences, yet in my brain there could have been a link.
Me: “Mike? Was Grant lying on the couch when Zorro broke the glass?
Mike: “What? No… I don’t think so… why?”
Me: “Well, his eye is red and I was worried that maybe a piece of glass shot over the couch and hit him in the eye!”
Mike: (30 full seconds of silence.)(Laughter.) “WHAT?!?!? He would be screaming in so much pain if that happened first of all, and…and… how do you come up with this stuff?”
Oh yeah, I forgot about the part where shattered glass jabbing into a baby’s eye would probably cause him to cry and scream. Hmmm…maybe his eye was just red. It actually gets red and teary pretty often. He probably rubbed his blanket across it or something. Oops.
I never used to be this much of a worrier. Always cautious, never a dare devil, but never constantly, exhaustingly, round-the-clock on guard. These kids have made me a freak. I think that’s the root of the cause for this non-toxic living quest I’ve found myself on. If I know for sure that the products we are using are safe, it is just one less thing I have to worry about.
It starts with deodorant, shampoo, and toothpaste… and ends with peace of mind.