Sometimes when it's quiet here it's because we're out living life to its fullest and I can't make time to write.

Other times it's because it's hard to find the words for the thoughts that are filling my head. And sometimes the words I do find are less about inspiration and more about grief. And those are even harder to share.

2014 has been heavy with goodbyes. There were the lambs we lost last winter, the llama, two cats, a guinea pig, a goat, and a goat kid.

So many tears. So many goodbyes. More than my tender heart can bear. Many more than I've had the courage to share here.

And as it all unfolded I have watched this dog of my heart growing older.

Jasper. My forever dog.

Sixteen years ago when I wandered into the dog pound with an hour to lose before an appointment I wasn't looking for a puppy.

I'm not sure what brought me there, unless it was the soul of the sweetest dog I've ever know calling me to him so we could spend a lifetime together. His lifetime.

Sixteen years ago, at twenty-five, I wasn't wondering what our life would look as we grew up and grew older together. I didn't wonder at how this guy would fit seamlessly into my world as my family grew to include two kids and countless other animals.

Nor was I thinking of the heart-full of worry you tend to pick up along with a heart-full of love.

All I knew that day was puppy love.

And when I brought him home from the shelter, curled in my lap in the front seat of the car, the last thing on my mind was that someday we would have to say goodbye.

But every loved one comes with a first hello and a final goodbye, I suppose.

But that's best not to think about most days.

Jasper. My shadow. My biggest fan. My first baby.

This dog has shown me unconditional love, endless patience, and a boundless adoration that it's hard to feel worthy of.

He has been by my side – literally and figuratively since I brought him home.

And as I look into his ancient eyes today I ponder how our children spend a small fraction of their lives in our home, but our pets give us their everything.

Their babyhood, their adolescence, and their old age.

Their birth and their death. We are their center for all of their days.

And today we're nearing the end of those days.

Jasper and I are standing on the cusp of goodbye. 

Well, I stand anyway. He's laying down. It's all he can muster.

During the past few months his aging has accelerated, and in the past few days he's nearing the end so fast it's hard to catch my breath.

We're doing our best to make him comfortable and show him more love than he'll know what to do with until he takes his leave.

But, oh my this is hard. My heart is in my throat.

Because in the end more loving means more pain. And yet it's beyond worth that exchange.

This is what it means to give your heart away. I think it's the point of being alive.

But it's damn painful.

 

And so here we stand. Near the end of our path together.

Sixteen years of love culminating with my heart breaking in my chest? That's about right.

And as I type this he lifts his head just a bit, watching me from his pillow in the corner.

He knows.

Oh, Jasper. I love you, buddy. And I will miss you so. More than any animal I've ever known.

 

Yes, it's time for him to go alone on his next journey. I think he's ready.

Me? Not so much.

 

Safe travels old man. It's time to romp and run once more.

 

Edited to add: Jasper died peacefully on Halloween eve. I was home alone with him and as he crossed over to the endless fields of dog heaven. Thank you for all of your kind comments. Love and light.

It has been several years since I promised to write you a post outlining how we managed ECCs (early childhood caries) in our home, as well as we handle normal oral hygiene and tooth troubles like decay.

Finally it’s time. I’ll be sharing three posts with you during the coming weeks:

Part One: Hygiene

Part Two: Diet

Part Three: Supplements

I’m starting with hygiene because you can do this today.

You don’t need to order supplies or learn a new way to feed your people. This is the easiest step of all.

That being said if you are dealing with decay this step is not a stand-alone. Changing how you brush is key, but changing how you eat (and how you supplement what you eat) will be critical if you want to stop or even reverse decay.

I hope that these posts will give you hope if you are in a place of hopelessness about your teeth or your child’s teeth. Because I’ve been there, worrying about my baby and her (literally) crumbling teeth.

So let’s get started, shall we?

The Backstory

We are no strangers to tooth decay.

The picture above shows Lupine at six, the day after she lost her first tooth. You can see that her upper teeth look a little off in this picture.

That’s because they were capped, along with her four molars just before her second birthday.

When Lupine was 1 1/2 her four upper front teeth became discolored around the edges. We suspected decay and took her to a dentist right away. He picked at the dark spots and told us there was no need to worry, her teeth were simply stained.

Within a week a small chunk of enamel fell out as I brushed Lupine’s teeth before bed.

It was terrifying.

Her teeth continued to crumble at a frightening pace. I took to brushing her out in the backyard because in the direct sunlight I could better see how much tooth we were losing every time we brushed.

Because of how fast her decay was progressing we made the terribly difficult decision to have her sedated and have her four front teeth capped rather than lose them completely before her second birthday. 

Our new dentist called her cavities ECCs – early childhood caries. He told me to stop night nursing. (Many dentists tell moms to wean completely.) He called it “bottle mouth” and asked us how much juice or soda she drank. (None.) He blamed the problem on night nursing, genetics, and possibly poor brushing habits.

I didn’t buy it.

So after I pulled myself together I do what I always do – I questioned and I researched and I questioned some more.

I spent every night at the computer, researching tooth decay and holistic care. Our dentist’s suggestion that I night wean her sounded like rubbish.

Our species evolved as a bed-sharing, night-nursing people. How could night nursing suddenly be the cause of this post-industrial style decay?

My research was fruitful and I discovered so many amazing facts about our evolution as a species, the pitfalls of our modern diet, and what it really takes to heal damage and create healthy teeth.

We made the changes that I outline below and in the next two posts during the month we we waited for her appointment for caps.

During those four weeks her decay – which was visibly worse each day before our changes – stopped progressing within days.

Let me say that again: her decay stopped within days.

She never lost another chunk of tooth, nor did her cavities worsen at all before her caps were applied the following month.

Even our (skeptical) dentist was amazed.

The steps I will outline in this series is what we did during that month (and for the most part have continued since then) to stop her decay. It has worked for us, better than I ever imagined.

Here is what we did.

Holistic Tooth Care Part One: Hygiene

Until this week our family hadn’t been to the dentist in over two years. (I know. I know!) And while avoiding the dentist is not an official part of my holistic tooth care plan (quite the opposite), it does demonstrate how well what we’re doing is working.

Because get this: our dentist said our teeth didn’t even need a cleaning.

Three of us brush our teeth everyday with LuSa soap (that’s right – soap instead of toothpaste). We also use activated charcoal on occasion if see some staining or want to make creepy faces in the bathroom mirror with our temporarily black zombie teeth.

Edited in 2019 to add: at long last (and dozens upon dozens of requests), we now offer a Tooth Soap! You can find it here.

The fourth member of our crew has brushed mostly with baking soda.

After a two year hiatus the dentist told us that three of us (yes, the three of us who brush with soap) didn’t even need a cleaning. He scraped at a little tartar and called it done.

“I could clean your teeth,” he said, “but they don’t need it. At all.”

This has never happened to us before.

Two years would have left us with an epic cleaning when we used toothpaste. But not anymore. After two years he didn’t even clean them.

And the three cavities he had been watching in various people the last time we came to visit? They hadn’t progressed at all. Our decay has not progressed in more than two years.

Why do we brush with soap?

No, it’s not to prevent swearing. It’s to prevent (or lessen) decay.

Here’s how. Our saliva is rich with minerals. Those minerals really, really want to soak back into your teeth to help keep them healthy and strong. The thing is, most commercial toothpaste (perhaps all) is made with a glycerin base. All that glycerin leaves an invisible film on your teeth, preventing the minerals from being absorbed.

Soap, on the other hand, doesn’t do this. (Yes, soap does contain a small amount of glycerin, but it’s negligible compared to a toothpaste tube full of the stuff.) Soap rinses clean.

Brushing with soap? I know. It’s one of those things that sounds super crazy but trust me, it’s not bad at all.

And the process couldn’t be easier.

Here’s how we use soap instead of toothpaste.

How to Brush Your Teeth with Soap

1. Take a bar of (natural and/or organic, no funky ingredients) soap or, better yet, LüSa Organics Tooth Soap. I prefer my LuSa soap because I make it, I love it, and it’s our bread and butter but seriously use what you’ve got. (That being said, make sure you read the label and if yours tastes horrific please try mine just once before you go back to the paste.)

2. Wet your toothbrush.

3. Rub bristles gently across the bar of soap. (Don’t take so much that you see little chunks of soap on the bristles. That will taste terrible. Just a little invisible layer of soapy goodness.)

4. Brush. (This is the critical step, you see. Because, well, brushing.)

5. Marvel at the amazing bubbles frothing out of your mouth like some kind of rabid dog.

6. Rinse. (Yes, you’ll probably want to rinse, even if you don’t with toothpaste. Otherwise the soap will leave a soapy after-taste.)

7. Be wowed at the unprecedented clean feeling of your teeth.

 

I bet you have some questions.

Like…

Doesn’t that taste unbelievably inconceivably terrible?

Not at all. Yes, it tastes a little soapy (being soap and all). But this isn’t supposed to be dessert. We’re brushing, remember. It’s really fine. I prefer it to toothpaste. The Tooth Soap we now sell is formulated with xylitol and tangerine, so it’s downright tasty, in my opionion.

Edited to add: three people emailed me that they tried liquid Dr. Bronners they had on hand and it burned like fire. Two of them also had my bar soap on hand and tried that next and said it was totally different. So: bar soap. Not liquid.

My kids will hate this. Right? Capital-H Hate.

I don’t know. Mine don’t, as the photos here attest. To them it’s just brushing. (And yes, once-upon-a-time we also used that strawberry toothpaste from the coop.) Truly my kids adjusted to it completely after just a couple of brushings.

Any other great ideas?

Sure. If you’re trying to warm your kiddos up to soap, sprinkle a bit of powdered stevia or xylitol on the bar. Barely any but enough to make it a little sweet for the first couple of days. (I haven’t needed to pull out this trick but I suspect it would work like a charm.)

What’s our favorite flavor for brushing?

The new LüSa Tooth Soap is hands down the tastiest option around.

Since you brush with soap does that mean you never swear?

Never. (I swear.) Okay. We all swear. The washing your mouth out with soap thing is a myth. Sorry to be the one to break it to you. Sigh.

I can’t do it. I’m not even going to try. Sell me on another idea.

Okay. You can also use soap to make homemade toothpaste using this recipe. It’s still soap but it’s a good transitional soap method since it’s blended with other goodies that turn it into toothpaste. (Details below.)

How to Make Homemade Toothpaste

If you just can’t get over the weirdness of brushing with soap, how about brushing with a sweet-tasting soap-based toothpaste? Here is the recipe that helped us transition from toothpaste to soap. We made it monthly for years and only switched to soap when we ran out and I didn’t have time to make more.

Another promising recipe is found here.

It’s just as good for your teeth and will please a more discriminating palate.

Anything else?

Brushing with soap and flossing regularly is all we do around here. However if you’re hooked on mouthwash this recipe looks wonderful.

We also use activated charcoal for polishing now and then (I get tea and coffee stains on occasion and they work beautifully on this).

Because Lupine’s enamel was very soft when we started down this path I stayed away from anything abrasive. That being said, tooth powder is a lovely alternative for many. If you’re sold on tooth powder instead of soap both this recipe and this one look promising.

Some people swear by oil pulling with coconut oil for tooth decay, pain, and other mouth troubles. I’ve personally never done it nor do I know enough about it to speak on the subject.

And finally, this: If your child is suffering from ECCs check them for tongue tie and lip tie.

A blog reader who was also dealing with ECCs in her family shared fascinating theory with me that has held true with most everyone I have asked. Toddlers with ECCs may have a tendency to be tongue tied (or lip tied). It is a fairly simply intervention to remedy and might help the child latch better to prevent milk from pooling on the upper front teeth. It’s just a hypothesis, but when I ran it by a pediatric dentist friend she was intrigued and could see how it would make a difference in the decay of the upper front teeth.

Next Step

Soon I will bring you part two of this series: diet. (Edited to say: it’s up! Have at it.)

If you are dealing with a tooth crisis in your home I suggest you do a little homework now by reading this thread on Mothering.com. It will take you several days to work your way thorough (take your time) but it’s absolutely rich with information that can help get your family moving in a healthy direction.

That’s it for today. Happy soapy teeth, friends!

And thank you to my kids who happily let me photograph them while they sleepily brushed their teeth this morning. Mwah!

Please note: I am neither a dentist nor an expert. The information above is based on our unique experiences as a family, and is not intended as medical advice. Work together with a holistic dentist and find a course of action that works best for your family.

Edited to add one final note: after I originally posted this series, a reader whose child had ECCs asked me if Lupine was lip tied. I checked, and indeed she was. I began asking everyone I knew whose child had ECCs if they were lip tied, they ckecked, and with few exceptions they were.

I called a pediatric dentist friend and asked her what she knew of this connection. “Nothing.” She said. “I’ve never heard of that being discuessed or researched as a factor for ECCs. But it makes so much sense.”

She went on to explain that a lip tie could cause breastmilk or formula to pool on the fronts of the upper teeth, where decay normally begins. If your child is dealing with ECCs I urge you to check them for a lip tie and if one is present to have it addressed. I’m a low-intervention gal when it comes to our bodies, but fixing a lip tie would have been a much simpler journey than dealing with greater decay.

Be well, friends!

When was the last time you didn't stop to worry about "practical", "economical", or "realistic"?

When was the last time you allowed yourself to believe in a dream you have kept wrapped in your soul for so long?

When was the last time you said "to hell with it" and did exactly – exactly – what you wanted to do, fueled only by your insatiable passion for an idea?

When was the last time you let yourself get carried by a dream?

Lupine has wanted a roadside flower stand for as long as I can remember.

And it doesn't matter that we live on a back country road with zero traffic. It doesn't matter that she didn't get around to much planting this spring. It doesn't matter that it's 85 F and sunny at the top of the driveway.

It matters only that she's wildly, madly, passionately head-over-heels with this idea. This idea is her everything.

And watching her up there in the afternoon sunshine she became my zen master teacher. (Again.)

She has so much to share, if only I put down my work, show up, and quietly listen. All children do.

And watching her work it all came clear.

Because when was the last time you remember feeling like this about something – about anything?

For real. And how could we not want to feel this way again?

When your heart swells from excitement and possibility, and you can't think of a single more inspiring way to spend your time.

Most grown-ups suck at this. It's true. But only because we've forgotten.

We've forgotten what it feels like to be unable to sleep for the potential before us. When we have dreamed of something so long and with so much focus that there was no other option than it coming to be so we watch for it – wait for it – create it.

When the "success" or "failure" of your journey are irrelevant because the reward was simply in the doing.

It's been a long time for most of us. Way too long.

Caught up in the daily grind our passions sleep. Most days we're so busy with life and work and distraction we forget they are even there.

But our passions are only comatose – not dead – hypnotized by busy days, media, and fear.

Perhaps it's time to wake them.

So I ask: what do you want most of all?

You only get to live this lifetime once. Are you living the life you desire?

 

Your dream is in you.

Watch for it. Listen to it. Wake it up.

It's time.

 

(Yes. That would be Lupine in the lupines.)

Goodness. That was a week of the nicest sort.

No internet, no clock, no agenda.

Only this old cabin (built by my grandpa and my great grandpa) alongside the river I've know since I was small.

A river that my mom knew when she was small and my grandma before her.

The river where I played as a child, floating bark boats where my kids do today. The river where I said "yes" to Pete's proposal and later married him along her banks. The river where I grieved my grandparents and later spread my grandmother's ashes, watching them swirl through the water where my children now wade.

Circling back. Family. Home. Roots.

This river is familiar in the deepest sort of way.

The river itself is family. Wolf. We even took her name.

 

Our week at the cabin was three holidays in one.

There was a one-day visit with my sister, five days for just the four of us to relax and play, and finally two days with my mom and dad – foraging, eating freshly caught fish and wild mushrooms, and talking until late in the night.

And then suddenly it was time to go.

Back to the farm, the animals, the garden, and our business.

Back home.

We arrived last night to find our garden brimming with ripe strawberries. The first of the year!

And even sweeter were the two newborn goat kids frolicking in the pasture. Also a first for our family and our farm.

Oh! Such a homecoming.

And now we're getting settled back in. Checking e-mail, milking the cow, pulling weeds, and planting the rhubarb, balsam trees, and blackberries we brought home from the cabin. We are finding our farm groove once more.

And yes, snuggling goat kids every thirty seconds or so. (Of course!)

Today I'm feeling relaxed, patient, grateful, and slow.

I'm aware of the depth of my roots in so many ways.

I'm present.

I'm right here. Right now. And nowhere else.

 

And for that I am thankful.

Oh, yes. It's so good to be home.

 

 

The four of us slipped away last week for a simple, old-fashioned summer vacation.

We headed to the cabin, just a few hours from home.

To sit by the river, to hike in the woods. To swim.

I brought my phone so I could share a few photos via Facebook and Instagram during the week, and check in on email now and then. Not a lot – just enough.

But within minutes of arriving Olive unceremoniously kicked my phone into the river.

Splash! Smash! Done.

It was poetic.

The message was loud and clear.

Unplug. Be here. Nothing else matters.

And I heeded the call. For an unplugged vacation.

It has been delicious.

There has been knitting, crafting, playing games, and reading books.

Plenty of catching minnows and crayfish, exploring the "fairy woods", and talking around the campfire.

Oh, yes. And catching up on sleep and eating lots of delicious food. We've been quite busy with that, too.

So busy, in fact, that we're still at it. For just a few more days before we head back to farm and work and life. (I'm writing this from a nearby small town library that the kids were wanting to visit.)

But this complete unplugging and slowing down for a few days? (Even for our usually-pretty-slow kind of life?)

Oh, yes. This feels so right.

And with that, it's time to unplug again.

Time to get off this screen and back to the campfire. To my family. To my life.

Because that is where good things are happening and memories are taking shape.

And there is no where else I'd rather be.

See you in a few more days, friends!

 

Love,
Rachel

When I was 25 my cat was hit by a car. I was heartsick.

A week later Pete met me at the door when I came home from work. There was meowing coming from upstairs.

He had found a stray, the strangest looking cat I had ever seen. My first question was, "Did you shave him?"

No, he hadn't. That was just how he came.

He also came with only one functional eye and the worst case of worms our vet had seen in her almost twenty year career.

We found his owners but they never showed up to take him back home.

That was sixteen years ago.

Spike has been with us since we were just starting to figure out what "us" even meant.

Every house.

Every job.

Every unfolding of our life.

Marriage. Parenting. All of it.

There was Spike. The almost hairless one-eyed cat.

A few years ago cancer set in. We had one of his ears removed, then the other. In the past few months it began to spread across his forehead and to his nose and throat. Open sores that never healed. He was hurting.

It was time.

Today we said goodbye.

Sixteen years, six houses, two kids, three other cats, three dogs, one family.

Oh, Spike.

Travel well, old man. You were truly one of a kind.

And you will be missed.

 

The day after my birthday Pete found a deer tick attached behind Lupine's ear.

We've been monitoring her closely ever since for signs of Lyme.

She's been treated twice already, once when she was five and had a bull's-eye rash on her neck and face, and once when she had a mysterious swelling and rash on her abdomen, accompanied by an on-again-off-again fever.

When she had Lyme the first time her personality changed. Her moods swung unpredictably from deliriously happy to debilitatingly sad or angry. She wasn't the girl I knew. When Pete and I saw the rash we shared a collective "aha" moment and gratefully picked up her 30 day supply of antibiotics.

She was back to herself within two days.

And then last week we found another tick, attached under her chin after another day in the woods.

Yesterday I found two more. Attached. In her hair.

And then, just before bed, a third.

Five ticks in two week. Three of them in a single day.

I won't lie. Sometimes the fear gets me. Sometimes I want to shave their heads or never let them go outside. Ever.

Or maybe we'll just move away.

But the truth is, there's nowhere else to go.

Because there is something for us to fear in every corner of the world.

You have crime, they have a nuclear reactor, someone else has hurricanes, a volcano, tornadoes.

We have ticks.

 

From the creek yesterday I watched chickadees flit from tree to tree I wondered if they had Lyme. Being birds, they don't. But regardless they didn't seem to care either way. 

And all I could think was that I want a chickadee's life. Free, wild, and fearless.

Because even a short carefree life seems better lived than a long and troubled one.

 

After I pulled the ticks off of her head yesterday she had sighed and slumped into my lap. "Now I can never go into the woods again," she said, her voice high, on the edge of tears.

Because mama is afraid.

Because you might get sick.

Because – ticks.

 

And to be honest my first thought when she expressed her feelings was "Is she being emotional because she has Lymes?"

No, really. It was.

And as the thought bubbled up I decided that fear might a worse poison to us than Lyme.

And so I made a choice.

I chose the woods.

Because we make decisions everyday that we hope and pray are right. About kids and life, health and happiness, education and spirit.

And we cross all of our fingers as we say a prayer, hoping we choose well.

We throw the dice.

Everyday.

 

So yes, baby. You can go into the woods.

Out into ground zero.

Into the forest, the brush, down to the creek, into childhood – to live and be and explore.

To be free, a chickadee in the trees.

But before you go we'll tuck your pants into socks and pull your hair back. We'll put a hat on your head and spray the spray all over and rattle the bones and make a wish.

For safety.

For health.

For luck.

And when you get home we'll check you for ticks – like everyday before – and hope that this time we find them before they attach.

Because we live here.

We live here.

We don't hide here or fear here.

We'll live here.

And yes, your childhood may come with more antibiotics, but it will not come with fear where the forest should have been.

 

Because today that's the best answer I can find.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

A few notes –

~ Lupine was first diagnosed with Lyme when we lived in town. Avoiding the woods does not remove the risk of Lyme.

~ I wrote about my own experience with Lyme when I was diagnosed last summer. You can find it here.

~ We make a bug spray that contains rose geranium essential oil. This essential oil (along with tea tree oil and apple cider vinegar) can be an extremely effective tick repellents. The catch is that you must reapply often and thoroughly. (I think that is where we've gone wrong.) We used a goodly amount of our spray before our last outing and haven't found a tick since. I'm hoping this will help and we're carrying it with us into the woods from now on, reapplying every hour or so.

~ Based on the suggestion of a friend we're dabbing a dab of our herbal anti-itch balm on each tick bite. It's helping them calm down and heal much more quickly than ususal. Hooray for small blessings.

~ If you'd like more information on how to manage Lyme have a holistic Lyme disease board here.

~ Please sign this petition. It would help if we could address Lyme proactively. Maybe – just maybe – this could help.

~ When I shared my own Lyme story I got lots of emails asking how we were choosing to treat it. If you are curious about how we are handling these recent bites here is our plan. Our physician recommended Lupine take 1 dropper-full of cat's claw tincture two times a day. In addition he suggested 3 pellets per day of Ledum 30 c homeopathic (which we were already giving her for the bites). If she (or any of us) shows any signs of Lyme we will treat with at least 30 days of antibiotics.

~ And finally, if you disagree with my choice to still let my children play outside I can respect that completely. These are big decisions and unfortunatley we can not know what the future holds. Please know that I'm feeling pretty vulnerable right now so let's keep the comments here extra kind today. Many thanks, my friends.

xo Rachel

 

Today you have a choice.

Between two worlds.

Two stories.

Two truths.

 

Today you get to decide what surrounds you. What frames your life.

What is your life.

 

To choose beauty when first you see only flaws.

To reach for understanding when you are washed with fear.

To inhale and exhale find allowing when you hunger for control.

To accept what you wish to reject.

To embrace what you first push away.

 

In your parenting, in your love, in your neighbor, in yourself.

 

It won't always be easy.

You will falter.

But the next moment will present another opportunity to choose.

 

Because two worlds exist in the same moment.

One is flawed, frustrating, imperfect.

The other is beautiful, welcome, and free.

 

And they are of course one in the same.

 

Only your perspective decides which world surrounds your heart and creates the story of your life.

Which will you choose?

 

 

Today I'm powering down my laptop.

I'm resisting the seduction of distraction.

I'm getting real and getting present.

And I'm asking myself: would I rather look into this screen or into these eyes?

My answer is obvious when I stop to ask.

It's just that I sometimes forget to ask.

 

I get to choose:

Laptop screen or the sledding hill?

Emails or card games?

Facebook or baking bread?

It doesn't seem so difficult when I put it that way.

 

So I'm unplugging today. Even though it will be hard.

Awkward.

A little uncomfortable.

 

I'm doing it anyway.

Because I know what really matters is right here and nowhere else.

Not out there in the interwebs, but inside of my own heart.

 

If you need me, I'll be here – painting with my kids, knitting these slippers, and talking to my partner.

And the silence will be filled with laughter and love instead of the distraction of this screen.

Today.

 

Will you join me?

It has the power to change our lives.