Giveaway! Era Organics Baby Care Line

As a mom, I am always looking for healthy, safe, natural products to use on my little ones.  With 3 very young children, I try to research the heck out of anything I put on their skin and in their bodies.   I’m sure you’ve seen the news stories that have popped up within the last year about Johnson & Johnson having cancer causing chemicals in their products, and also Jessica Alba’s company Honest Baby and their mini-scandal of using a chemical in their products that they tell consumers to avoid!

 

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With those being two top contenders in the baby care world, you may be wondering what other options are out there.  I am really excited to share about my new favorite baby care line from Era Organics!  I’ve always used natural skincare products on my children, but haven’t ever been blown away by the products I’ve used, so I thought I would take a break from our usual Babyganics and try something new for Peach’s sensitive skin.  Queue a middle of the night nursing and Amazon perusal and Honeybuns baby wash showed up 2 days later on my doorstep. (Thank you Amazon Prime!)  That night we gave it a test run for bath time and I was an immediate fan.  The texture of the baby wash was concentrated, and a little went a really long way.  The scent was calming and pleasant.  I really dislike heavily scented skincare products (so I’ve never been able to stomach the scent of products like Burt’s Bees for babies). The scent of the Honeybuns wash is very mild, but appealing and calming.  

 

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I started talking with the folks at Era Organics because after trying out a lot of other brands like California Baby, Mustela, Babyganics, and Aveeno (which is owned by Johnson & Johnson!), I was so glad to be using a product that was natural AND effective, a combo really lacking in the natural product world. They informed me that they had just released an entire Honeybuns baby care line, and I knew I had to try the rest!

 

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One of the great things about the Honeybuns line is that it cares not only for baby but for MAMA!  YAY!  It’s really telling when a company chooses to care for moms, too!  Their baby and mama line includes Honeybuns Baby Body Wash, Healing Balm (incredible for dry skin and also works on cradle cap!), diaper balm, and Baby Powder (talc-free! Uses organic cornstarch and arrowroot as its base).  The mommy components of the line are Mommy Balm for sore nursing breasts (I’m past the ouchie newborn latch stage, but I love this for when I am tender nursing during my period), and Belly Oil for stretch marks and dry irritated skin on your tummy and thighs– this stuff smells like HEAVEN, it’s like a mini-spa treatment every time i put it on!  Each of the products are organic, cruelty-free, and non-GMO.  There are NO PARABENS!  This is a big deal to me, and the reason why I switched to all natural products as a new mother 4 years ago.  

 

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As I mentioned earlier, I feel like there’s a great divide between products that are natural and safe, and products that pack a powerful punch but are full of stuff I don’t want on my baby’s skin.  You can tell that the formulas that Era Organics uses are thoughtful and science based, not just thrown together willy nilly.  These products have made a difference on my skin and on Peach’s skin (and its been great on my toddler and preschooler’s skin, too!)

 

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I truly believe in these products and I am SUPER excited to share with you that Era Organics has offered a set of their ENTIRE  Honeybuns skin care line for one lucky winner on our Facebook page, so head over to She Rocks the Cradle on Facebook to enter through April 24th!  Era Organics has also offered a 25% off discount for She Rocks the Cradle readers using the code CRADLE25 through the end of May in their Amazon storefront!  I am so thankful for their generosity, and I can’t wait for you to try out their products.  You’ll have to let me know how you like it once you try their products out– you wont be disappointed.

 

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Here are the quick links to the Honeybuns products on Amazon! Don’t forget to use our CRADLE25 coupon code for 25% off, and be sure to share your purchase through the social share buttons on Amazon when you add these items to your cart!

 

Honeybuns Baby Wash

Honeybuns Healing Balm

Honeybuns Diaper Balm

Honeybuns Baby Powder

Belly Oil for Mama

Mommy Balm

 

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It’s Not a Season, It’s a Baby.

“It’s just not your time.”

 

“It’s only for a season.”

 

“It doesn’t last forever, this is just how it is for all of us.”

 

“You can get spiritual feeding in AFTER your kids are older.”

 

These are just some of the responses I have received many times when I have lamented that I am struggling with my place in the church since having children. But guess what? I got sick of it.  I’ve talked to my spiritual advisors, to my elders, to my husband, I’ve cried out to the Lord about it, and here’s what I came up with in response to those statements:

 

This is absolute crap.

 

Okay, okay, so maybe that’s not the nicest way to put it, but that’s what I’ve wanted to say.

 

When I had Captain in 2012, I spent an entire year worshipping apart from my husband.  I use the term “worshipping” very loosely.  I spent a year in a room either alone, or with 2 other wonderful nursing women and their babies that had a TV with the sermon being piped in, while my husband sat in the service and got to listen to the sermon like the rest of the church, because he wasn’t lactating and I was.

 

At the year mark, after countless Sundays and Thursdays being stuck in a room apart from my husband where the audio or the visual wasn’t working at times, I had had it.  I went to my wonderful husband, my sweet spiritual head and with tears pouring down my face I said, “I can’t do this anymore. I haven’t heard a whole sermon, let alone a quarter of a sermon in a year.  My daily devotional time suffers, I never get to fellowship with the body anymore, I am sick of being in a room apart from you and not hearing the word preached.  I need help because I feel like I am drowning.”

 

My husband held me while I cried and we decided it was high time I made my way back into at least the lobby, if not the sanctuary of our church.  Thankfully, the lobby of our church at the time has two large glass windows and the sermon audio piped in, so we were able to take Captain into the lobby from the sanctuary if he got too loud, without me being segregated from my husband, and without feeling shut up in a dark room by myself.

 

Once we had Mamitas, we were told by a well meaning woman that there were people uncomfortable with me nursing in the lobby– even with a cover.  Back to the nursing room I went– feeling alone, defeated, and an outcast.

 

Even for women’s functions, I was told were for adult women, and to leave my nursing child home with daddy.  Women’s teas, retreats, and social events weren’t the place for my nursing baby.

 

I began to see a common trend.  The people who were the most unsupportive of me in my young motherhood were not some chauvinistic, patriarchal men– it was women.  Every time. And not just women who didn’t have husbands or kids, no!  It was always middle-aged to older women, who had children at one point in their lives too.  These same women had probably sat in the same dark rooms, nursing under blankets in bathrooms or lobbies or hallways, not hearing the Word preached, longing to be fed, and they were probably placed there by other older women themselves.

 

I’ve talked to many young mothers about this in the church, and we all seem to be frustrated with it, but for some reason, the squeakiest wheels seem to be the older women, and so, we young moms end up in a dark back room because we have noisy babies and milk in our breasts.

 

I can’t help but think this has only become an issue in the last 100-150 years in the westernized world, due to two things:

 

  1. The change from biological feeding with breasts to bottles and thereby making breasts single (and sexually) purposed in our societies.
  2. The popularity of segregating children from adults into their very specific age groups– namely because of the public school system and the rise of Sunday School and mandatory nursery care in churches.

 

Tell me that Ma Ingalls had to nurse her baby in a cry room, or that Mary had to take Jesus to the nursery each Sabbath.  That just wasn’t a thing.  This has not been the norm for thousands of years, and because of tradition and popular culture, the church now has no place for young mothers and babies.  How is a church to grow and sustain itself without young families?  It can’t.  It will die out without children.

 

What other sector of the body of Christ do we tell, “It’s not your season to listen to the preaching of the Word of God”?  What if we told teenage boys that they were excluded for this season, or old women, or elementary aged children?  We would all be in an uproar.  The gospel message and preaching of the Bible is for ALL Christians.  Its commanded that we be in fellowship and following good, solid teaching and doctrine, and yet, I hear it constantly. “It’s just not your time– we all go through this.”

 

As for the claim that I have heard the most: “It’s just a season in your life”: I hear the “season” comment mostly from women who have chosen to have 1 or 2 babies.  Most of these women either didn’t breastfeed at all, or they did for a very short period of time. That was the perfect amount of babies for them.  That was the perfect amount of time for them to nurse.  Milkman and I desire a large family.  Thus far, I’ve been nursing 2 days short of 48 months straight.  We choose to let our kiddos wean sometime after 2.5.  What if my “season” is 10 years?  Is it okay for any Christian to miss out on preaching for 10 years?  My grandmother had 15 pregnancies, and raised 13 children over a course of 21 years.  TWENTY-ONE YEARS.  By the season argument, if my grandmother had been in a modern Evangelical church, her season would have been about 23 years.  

 

23 years of no women’s retreats.  23 years of not sitting with my grandfather in church.  23 years of audio/visual mishaps on the CCTV in the nursing room.  23 years of not getting spiritual feeding with the rest of the congregation.  Many years of also not sitting with her older children in church, leaving my grandfather with 4, 5, 6, 10, 12, kids to manage on his own. Many years of being alone and lonely and told by her older sisters, “Sorry, Panchita, it’s just not your season.”

 

Let’s be real, sitting in a sermon with young children and babies is still going to have you struggling to get the full message uninterrupted each week.  I’m not ignorant of the fact that children distract us in church and need parenting 24 hours a day, 7 days a week– meaning I’m not off duty for 2 hours each Sunday, and my kids are still going to need my attention.  But if my husband and I are tackling the parenting in church together as a team, we can support each other, be encouraged that we aren’t alone, be with the rest of the congregation on a Sunday (what a concept!), and most importantly, we can worship together, teaching our children of the importance their parents place on the preaching of God’s Word, and honoring the Lord’s day.

 

I don’t think we should do away with nursing rooms, I appreciated ours when I was in the early stages of nursing and needed 17 hands and a boppy to get a good latch.  I don’t think we should do away with nurseries.  I think they are excellent options for parents of children who are happy to go into childcare.  I don’t think we should do away with Sunday School, I loved Sunday School as a kid, and it serves a wonderful purpose for families who would like their child in a more kid-friendly environment.

 

In fact, this isn’t even so much about where to nurse as it is about women tearing down other women.  I see it constantly, not just in the church, but I see it there a lot.  I am incredibly thankful for a husband who advocates for me, for elders who have listened to me while I weep, and for the few, very special older women in my church who have been there to encourage me and help me through this sometimes lonely journey of being a nursing mother.  But the naysayers are always the ones whose comments seem to be what sticks with you.

 

To those older sisters, I just want to say, I know kids can be a distraction.  I know they can be annoying, believe me I have personal experience in dealing with their frustrating behaviors!  I know it is easy to forget that you were once in my shoes, but dear older sister, would you show me some compassion?  If not on me, then on my helpless infant. She needs love from her church, to hear as a baby what the Word says.  She needs to hear her pastor praying and she needs to see her parents lifting their hands to the Lord in worship.  She needs to hear the Psalms read, so that one day she can say, “There was never a day I could remember that I didn’t know the love of Jesus.”

 

Gather the people, Sanctify the congregation, Assemble the elders, Gather the children and nursing babes; Let the bridegroom go out from his chamber, And the bride from her dressing room.

 

–Joel 2:16

 

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**as an addendum, I would like to share that after meeting with our elders and lots of prayer, we are happily worshiping with the congregation each Sunday, and it feels so good to be with my brothers and sisters while still nourishing my youngest, tending to my olders, and standing next to my husband.**

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a day in the life

I’ve worked at a few preschools throughout the years.  I had recently been hired at a school called… well, let’s call it Kiddie Korral.  Yes, that’s a good name for  it.  Anyways, I had been working for a financial firm for about 3.5 years after my last preschool stint, thinking that a bigger income would make me happier, but although it made me able to afford nicer things, I definitely wasn’t happier.  I decided to go back to working with kiddos and take a 45% paycut.  It was insane, but I knew I needed to work with little ones.

Anyways, so I get this job at Kiddie Korral.  It had been a long time since I’d worked in a preschool, and when I interviewed with the director at that time I could tell she was a little dodgy, but I figured it was worth it to be back in Preschool.  Now, the last time I had worked in a preschool, I was 19, young, stupid, rebellious, so going into a new school in a new stage of my life, I knew I would approach this job differently.

Working in a preschool was a pretty strange career path for me.  See, I was homeschooled.  My dad worked, didn’t make a lot of money, but he felt that my mom should be home with my sisters and I.  Money was tight for them, I am sure, but we never missed a meal.  (Thanks to my mama’s frugality.  She knows how to stretch a meal!)  My mom is not a college graduate, a teacher, nor did she have any extensive training on how to school her three daughters, but she did it.  I had my mama and my sisters every day, all day.  I never went to public school to sit in a classroom, let alone preschool all day in my early childhood years.   My first time setting foot in a classroom was Mr. Shaack’s math class at a Community College at 16.  This whole concept of rallying a bunch of little ones in the same age group and shoving them in a room with 2 women is an entirely foreign concept to me.  But for now, I digress.

So my first week, was a lot of reconditioning, readjusting, and reprogramming my mind.  While some teachers told kids to stop crying because mommy had to go to work, I would sit and hold those little ones and try and hide my tears along with them.   It was culture shock.  I was out of my element.  I had second thoughts about having taken the job after the first week.  What had I gotten myself into??

And then came my second week.  Something tremendous happened.  I want you to picture this scene.  20 preschoolers.  2 teachers.  Lunch time has just finished and it’s time to get all the kids down for their way too long nap so that teachers can go to lunch.  We call all the kids in to wash their hands, and within 8 minutes one kid had pooped his pants.  It was diarrhea. 3 little boys are peeing all over the floor and each other in the boy’s bathroom.  One little girl is hogging up the girl’s bathroom because she’s constipated.  Meanwhile, another little girl left the water running after stuffing the sink with paper towels.  There are 2 little girls dipping paper towels into the sink water and washing each other’s bodies, clothing, and the walls with the water.  Oh, and little “Sally” wet her pants… for the 3rd time that day.  Once I sprayed poopy boy down with the hose outside and got him dressed, the boy’s bathroom floor had been bleached and mopped (and those 3 boys wiped down with wipes), Little Miss Constipated had been relieved, the girl’s sink had been unstopped and that floor mopped, and the bathing beauties and Sally were in clean dry clothes, I sat down on the floor in a heap next to one of the kid’s napping mats.  I took a 45% pay cut for THIS?  I began whimpering quietly as I sat in there alone with 20 snoring, dirty faced, wood chip sock filled 3 year olds.

I felt exhausted and a failure. Where were those piles of account paperwork I hated so much at the financial firm?  Where was my comfy desk chair and widescreen monitor with access to youtube and my favorite blogs?  Where were those high heels and slacks I hated to wear every day?  This was for the birds.  And ew! Was that poop on my Converse?!

I looked down at the little boy I had sat next to.  He was the hardest kid to deal with in the class, had already had a write up or 2 that day, and was full of energy.  He opened his brown eyes, looked up at me quizzically as I dried my face, and wiped the raccoon eyes away from my dripping mascara.  He picked up my hand lying next to him, and kissed it.  “I love you Miss Rachel.  You’re my favorite teacher.”  He held my hand, and closed his eyes again to sleep.

Ah.  So this is why I was there.  I couldn’t remember a better feeling.  I was the luckiest woman alive.  I knew that I was where I was supposed to be, and that experienced changed my outlook on my job.  I wasn’t just a child wrangler (though that was a large part of the job in an overcrowded school), I was loved, and I had 20 little souls to care for, love, and influence.

That was one of the best days of my life.  Poop and all.