Hello Internet,

Do you forgive me? I know I’ve been a terrible blogger, but sometimes I have a life. Baseball season ends Saturday. Running club ended last week. I’m the room parent for both classes and trying to arrange end of year parties and son #1’s birthday party. I’m looking forward to having my life back in a few weeks. I’m on my second round of antibiotics and really hoping I’m going to get well. Between this and my ribs, I haven’t worked out in so long, I’ve noticed my arms are getting flabby. Sigh. Look out if you’re standing next to me and I point or wave. I might slap you across the face with my flab.

I just deleted the four previous paragraphs. Sometimes I write and end up deleting it all just because I needed to get it off my chest, but you don’t want to hear about how hard it is to make a child with attention issues do a six week long school project, do you? Instead you’d like to hear about me being a soap whore, wouldn’t you?

My life as a soap prostitute began many years ago. My mom thought she was allergic to scented things so everything she bought from laudry detergent to shampoo to soap was all unscented. This was the root of my search for odiferous goodness. I never had the laundry that smelled fresh- like it was dried in the sunshine. The first bottle I ever got of Gee Your Hair Smells Terrific was after I had moved out. And I bought my first bar of Irish Spring that same day. I stuck with Irish Spring until college, when I got a whiff of Coast from my roommate. It was love at first smell.

Now I should tell you, there’s a movement out there of crunchy, tree-hugging people that will scare the hell out of you. These people will tell you that your soap, laundry detergent and shampoo contain all kinds of toxic chemicals and will kill you. So I slowly gave up my delicious smelling shampoos. I gave up my sweet, clean laundry smell. I gave up my beloved soaps. And for several years, I used the all-natural products. I used Dr. Bronner’s lavender soap, which Steve said made me smell like a…..  well suffice it to say, he was referring to the unshaven hippies who smell like farm. The all-natural shampoos weren’t doing it for me either. IF they lathered up, they left my hair a freakish, frizzy mess. Gee, my hair never smelled terrific anymore. And they usually gave me dry, itchy scalp which is COMPLETELY unacceptable. It makes me think of lice. And then I spend all my time thinking bugs are crawling on me. It’s hard to focus.

And the laundry. Oh the laundry. Laundry. Must. Smell. GOOD. Did I mention the deoderant too? OMFG. Seriously. Even the dog said “Uh, that’s not working for you. Breast cancer is better.” 24 hours of all natural deoderant and I am RANK. With an all powerful stink that will. curl. your. nose. hairs. So the first thing I gave up was the deoderant. Who are we kidding? I lasted less than 24 hours then had to shower and put on toxic chemicals. My particular armpit bacteria needs some killin’. It laughs in the face of baking soda and essential oils.

Next, the laundry detergent had to go. I would whimper when I picked up a piece of clothing that I hadn’t worn since I switched detergents and rub it’s sweet smell all over my face. I kicked the stank all- nautral shit to the curb. Eff it. I need my Gain. I will sell you out in a second for delicious smelling laundry detergent. Make no mistake about it.

About six months ago, I went to the salon to get my hair cut and I was complaining about not being able to find a shampoo. He washed my hair with this heavenly scented shampoo than TAMES THE FRIZZ! I was in love. Like the whore that I am, I left the salon with the new shampoo and tossed out the natural shampoo and conditioner that day. Of course, Steve discovered a couple of weeks ago just how expensive my new love is when I asked him to pick me up a bottle after his haircut. He called from the car and said “I had to sell the car to pay for that shampoo. OMFG!” I failed to mention that the conditioner was 60% more. However, I water down the conditioner so it lasts. I am such a slut.

Up until two weeks ago, I still held onto to the lavender soap. I reasoned if everything else smelled good, at least I wouldn’t die of soap chemicals. But then I ran out. I stood in the shower and stared longingly at the Irish Spring. I longed for it’s NEW! anti-bacterial goodness. Finally, I gave in and used it. I smelled SO GOOD. SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO GOOD. And being so completely ashamed of myself, I told no one. Days dragged on and I did not go buy myself more lavender soap. I wanted to savor my soapy goodness. Finally, a couple of days ago, I could no longer take the weight of my sins. I came downstairs, walked over to Steve, hung my head and admitted “I am a soap whore.” To which he answered with explosive laughter “YOU USED MY SOAP?!?!” My face burning with shame, I replied “Yes. And I can’t stop…..”