Still Free

About 18 months ago I embarked on a ‘poo free diet. No, not that kind of poo. I would be one hurting unit right now if that were the case. I gave up shampoo and conditioner. I don’t like not knowing what is in products I use and food I consume. I hate the use of chemicals in my house, let alone on my person.  Since I have no real idea what is in ‘poo and conditioner (and when did we stop calling it creme rinse?) I decided I could better my health and my hair by going without.

Of course this was not done without copious amounts of research. I voraciously read blogs and articles on the horrors of shampoo and conditioner.  When I read about the possibility of carcinogens in products I rubbed all over my head every day, I said “Enough!”

I have been using baking soda to wash my scalp at least every other day. I use a apple cider vinegar/vanilla/water mixture to condition my hair.  I haven’t looked back. Yes, it is easier to toss your shampoo and conditioner bottles in your overnight bag and away you go. My baggie of baking soda has been affectionately dubbed “my cocaine”.

It’s all good, but every time I see a police car on my travels I get a little scared. Not because I’m speeding. But because I have that little baggie of white powdery substance. Yes, one taste could prove my innocence, but who wants to eat raw baking soda?  I’m also concerned that they won’t taste it until after I’ve been booked and fingerprinted. Then they’ll run my prints through the computer and find out I’m an ax murderer from the 1860s.  And I’ve never even killed an ax, nor thought of killing one. I’m sure I’ve handled them in my time but kill one? Not on your life…or the life of the ax.

Yes, my mind really goes there.

Almost three weeks ago I gave up gluten. It hasn’t been easy at all. All of our go-to snacks are now off limits. We eat a plethora of fruit and nuts. The only problem with those two thing? You are what you eat.

Mr. FullCup told me the other day eating out is losing it’s appeal in his eyes. He misses the days when he just went somewhere and ordered what he wanted and ate it without a second thought.

I refrained from telling him, “Welcome to my world.” I’ve been white flour and sugar-free (for the most part) for a few years and it’s hard to eat out. It seems everything anymore either comes with bread or is breaded.

It’s not easy. But it will get easier, right?

Bueller? Bueller?


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