Saturday, March 24, 2012

All my flaws, explained

I recently came across a really interesting post. I found it quite by accident. It was all about the development of the mouth/jaw/palate and how it relates to the way you breathe, or vice-versa really.

Part 1
Part 2

This may not sound really interesting to you. You probably have a normal mouth. With normal teeth. You probably didn't have eight years of orthodontic work, speech therapy and five oral surgeries of various types.

I have. And that's why I thought this was really neat stuff.

This is a mold of my teeth in 4th grade:

That was biting down. I couldn't even eat normally. I would bite off pieces of sandwiches with my molars.

Fast forward to now, and I've got decent enough teeth. I mean, if you're not looking hard, and we're just talking and what-not, I look fine. But the reality is that I still have a pretty darn big overbite and I'm really self-conscious about that. My teeth are healthy and everything, but despite all those years of work, they are far from perfect. When the years of torture drew to a close, I was told that my bite was not perfect, but it was as good as it would get with braces. I was told that if I wanted to achieve something better, I'd have to have my jaw broken and reset. I thought, "Well, they're good enough for me!" And I still feel that way if the alternative is a broken jaw wired shut.

But trust me, I'm self-conscious a lot. I feel like a beaver. I've been told that I just have a tiny jaw. But nobody ever explained WHY.

So that brings us to the point of this post: the blog I came across the other day. To sum it up, how you breathe (mouth or nose) as a baby/small child determines how your whole face looks. Why? Well, if you breathe through your nose, like you should, you close your mouth and it forms a seal. Your tongue goes to the roof of your mouth a bit of a ways behind your teeth and spreads out, which in turn spreads your palate.

On the other hand, if you breathe through your mouth all of the time, you don't have that spreading effect and end up with a narrow jaw -- but not just that. It affects the development of the entire middle part of your face. And you can end up with an overbite, weak chin and protruding nose.

People this totally describes me. And you probably are imagining I look a bit like this:

And, well, I kinda used to. See this post for more on that and what I really look like.

But I'm not that bad. Not really. I just think it is fascinating that all the things I've always sorta disliked about my face are entirely due to the way I breathed when I was little. I don't know for a fact that I breathed through my mouth, but I'd bet money. It's like the chicken and the egg: Do I find myself keeping my mouth a bit open because of the overbite, or do I have the overbite because I didn't keep my mouth closed? I don't really know. But please don't call me a "mouth breather." My dad already says we have hillbilly blood, and I just don't need that.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Watch out, ladies

He's been working out.

(and yeah, this is an exact replica of a Facebook post. Because I lack creativity tonight.)

Working on something

A little project in progress. It's a gift. I am pretty sure this person doesn't know about my blog, but I'll still keep quiet for now.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Did you miss me? Oh, you didn't even notice I was gone?

So ... it's been a while. A really long while. I think about you often, all 3 of you who come to visit. But I keep telling myself I will wait till I have something interesting to say. But I never do. Isn't that sad?

Or I'll think of something semi-amusing but then realize that it's more Facebook status update material. And I think that the only people who bother to read this blog are probably friends of mine on FB anyway.

The more I hope for inspiration, the less it comes to me. I used to share creative projects, but I have absolutely no time for myself anymore. You know, work, 1-year-old, dirty house, husband. That's how it goes.

I still work at a newspaper 3 nights a week as a copy editor. I've been there 10 years. But I also work for Warehouse Fabrics Inc. doing a sewing blog. And then I started handling their social media. And then I started handling their monthly newsletter. And then I started handling their new inventory, posting it to their website. This is both thrilling and tedious because, on the one hand, I get to admire many beautiful fabrics, and that's almost better than sewing. It's like hanging out at a fabric store all day, and who doesn't love that? On the other hand, sometimes I feel a bit swamped and struggle to find time when Brock isn't whining and pulling on my arm to get up and follow him.

Last month there was a particularly huge amount of new fabrics and it took me weeks to finish. Now we are working on a temporary project to recategorize everything on the site for search purposes. I love me a good organizing project, so for that reason I like it. But, again, sometimes I stare at my kitchen floor and think about how it would be nice if my feet didn't stick to it and I didn't have to worry about my son picking up typhoid as he rolls his cars around on it.

I'm eternally grateful to Warehouse Fabrics Inc. for the opportunity to earn money from home doing stuff I really like -- sewing, working with fabrics, writing and computer stuff. It's fantastic. But I am definitely not finding the time to blog much over here. And, you know, I don't really care. I'm so totally lucky to have this gig.

On top of regular life, I was dragged into helping to plan my high school reunion. It's this summer, in July. July is kind of freaking me out.

First weekend: Stepsister's wedding/dad's birthday
Second weekend: Son's birthday
Third weekend: 3-day class reunion that I'm responsible for, in part.
Fourth weekend: 7th wedding anniversary


I'm a little worried about how Brock will deal with the reunion weekend when we have to be out late. We could get a room at the hotel, but he refuses to sleep in a bed with us (there may be a baby-sitter on-site). As a matter of fact, he flat out refuses to sleep anywhere but his crib. Which is why we haven't traveled with him. I know that eventually he has to fall asleep, but by then, will we all be exhausted to the point of not having any fun? We don't have a baby-sitter, and my husband isn't very quick to trust a stranger in our house. We don't have any family members who would want to sleep at our house or stay there till 12:30 a.m.

The things I fret about for half a year, I tell you.

So that's my life. Busy. Kind of unexciting to everyone else, but really, really good.

I'll leave you with a slew of cutey-pie videos of the BrockMonster. Like you're going to watch them all, I know.

Locked in the Closet

Carousel Jabbering

Carousel Heaven

She's Not My Girlfriend!

Crazy Hair

No iPhone