Quiet

It has been a very difficult few days.

Aside from Jack's birthday post, which is tradition, I haven't really known what to say here.  Our usual silly little stories seemed frivolous and disrespectful.  Yet I really don't have anything novel to say about any of what happened in Connecticut that hasn't been said a dozen times already.

Debates rage on Facebook about gun control, (mental) health care reform, who's at fault, who's to blame... and I grow so weary.  I just want to hug the families, the friends, the community.  I want to weep with them and tell them how sorry I am that this unthinkable horror occurred.

Eight of the little girls killed were Daisy scouts.  Two of the boys had sisters in Girl Scouts.  As a Girl Scout mom and leader, that hit me hard.  Eight just happens to also be the number of little ones in my kindergarten troop.  I'm sending a trefoil on behalf of my kindergarten troop, even though I won't be talking to my little Daisies about it.  We had a moment of silence tonight at Mary Grace's Investiture and Rededication Ceremony.  We told the parents what it was for, in the program, but not the children.

That's been the big choice for parents and teachers, especially those with kids who are 5, 6, 7...  whether or not to tell them what happened.  BJ and I chose not to, for a variety of reasons.  First, we don't watch broadcast TV or 24 hour news channels in the house when they're awake, so they're unlikely to see coverage of it at home.  Second, the school was not planning to bring it up with the kids (although of course they will respond to questions, concerns, anxiety on a one-on-one basis).  Third, while there's a chance that they won't hear about it at all if we don't tell them, there's no chance that they won't hear about it if we do.  And if they hear it elsewhere first, we still will have the opportunity to explain it to them after the fact (as if there's anything about it that we can explain away).  Finally, they're just not old enough to understand.  Claire, at 5, barely understands death...  And Mary Grace is so sensitive that she freaked out during the movie Tangled when the mother turned back into a crone.  She can't handle the reality of this.  Not yet.

I've quizzed them carefully every day after school - "Did you hear any funny stories today?  Any sad stories?  Anything that made you happy?  Anything that worried you?" and so far, the only reply I've gotten is, "It might snow!"

For just a little while longer, we can maintain their illusion that the world is safe and happy, and so that's what we chose.  A lot of parents chose other paths, and I respect that decision.  There are no right answers, and a lot of it depends on how old your kids are, how "plugged in" they are, and their personalities.

We received beautiful emails from both of the kids' teachers, basically saying, "I love your kids and I will protect them."  I am in awe of all the teachers and school staff who dried their tears and went to school this week, who did their jobs with a smile in spite of what happened.  They are heroes, every single one.

I'll try to get back to more regular posting around here eventually, but know that my heart is heavy.  When I start telling cute stories and posting pictures again, it'll be because I think it's important to celebrate life, especially when we mourn.

Still?

It's 2012.  Why are we still debating about breastfeeding in public?

Why why why?  Babies need to eat.  Mommies can't sequester themselves inside the house for two years - which is the length of breastfeeding that the World Health Organization recommends - with their babies.  Therefore, babies will need to eat in public.  Not everyone can pump (I only got drops, ever).  Breasts are for feeding, their sexual assignation is secondary, and OMFG the world is on fire and don't we have better things to worry about than boobs?

But a professor at American University breastfed her sick infant during a lecture and now the blogosphere is all "ZOMG!" debating it.  Yawn.

The only question I have, which may or may not be fair, is, "Where was the baby's dad?"  Why couldn't he take the baby for the hour so that Mom didn't have to cancel class?  I breastfed all three of my kids - Jack for 17 months, Claire for 22, MG for 28.  And I would not have been able to do it without BJ's support.

Moms can't care for children in a vacuum - we need the support of our children's fathers, of our friends and family, of our community...  It's just crazy that in 2012 we still expect that 1) moms should be solely responsible for the care of their children, and 2) moms should never ever breastfeed in public.  It's insane.

I just find the whole debate so tiring, now that I'm out of that phase of parenting.  After 5 years of personally breastfeeding, I can only shake my head that it's still an issue at all.

Sexual Politics

Yesterday I pointed out absurdity of a bunch of non-uterus-havers making decisions about women's reproductive health and freedom (in 2012, for Susan B. Anthony's sake!) and Ann had this to say:

I enjoy reading your blog and stories about your family, but I couldn't let this one go. It is called religious beliefs and values. You would not ask the Amish or Quakers or any other religion to do anything that is fundamentally against their beliefs why is it ok to demand and force Catholics to abandon one of their core teachings. It is not a male/female issue. It is a religious belief issue. Would it make you feel better if it was a table full of catholic women holding their babies sitting at that table? 

Leaving aside the irony of an institution which has sheltered and enabled sexual predators for generations throwing any stones when it comes to sexual politics of any kind... Here's what's going on:

The Catholics don't want to cover birth control for their employees.  So, for example, if you're an agnostic or Buddhist or whatever secretary who happens to work at a Catholic university or hospital, or even a private company owned by a Catholic, they have the right, under the law, to not cover birth control pills under your insurance plan.  This actually happened to me in my early 20s.  Irony of irony, I was taking BC for raging PMS, and not for the sake of contraception, but it didn't matter because the family owned company I worked for at the time was owned by an Italian-Catholic family, and they refused to cover BC.  It kind of pissed me off.  Guess where I went for my pills instead?  (Planned Parenthood)  Guess what organization the religious right would love to see wiped off the face of the earth??  (Planned Parenthood)  ARGH!

Fine, whatever.  Religious freedom, blah blah blah.  So Obama said, "Whatever, jerks.  We're going to require the non-religious insurance company to extend birth control coverage to your employees for free, so that your non-Catholic or Catholic-light employees who choose to use the pill are able to, without having to go get it for a discounted price at Planned Parenthood and have eggs thrown at them by protestors."  Obviously I'm paraphrasing.

Egg Throwing Protestors

And apparently that wasn't good enough.  Because it's not just that Catholic companies and institutions saying, "We don't want our money going to pay for something we disagree with."  That's not it at all.  They don't want you or I to have access to birth control of any kind, period, regardless of what church you belong to or what you believe or whose money you use to pay for it.  (Incidentally, insurance companies are cool, because it's a lot cheaper to give away birth control pills than it is to cover pregnancies and to insure children until age 26.)

This also isn't about Catholics' closely held religious beliefs - because according to recent polls, 98% of Catholics have used birth control themselves (that link contains a very good description of what's going on, by the way, if my little lecture hasn't been enough for you).  This is about a very small group of (celibate) men trying to dictate the terms of what goes on in your relationship, your marriage, your bedroom, and your body.

If that doesn't piss you off, well, I don't know what will.

Reproductive freedom is a basic human right.  The World Health Organization says:

Reproductive rights rest on the recognition of the basic right of all couples and individuals to decide freely and responsibly the number, spacing and timing of their children and to have the information and means to do so, and the right to attain the highest standard of sexual and reproductive health. They also include the right of all to make decisions concerning reproduction free discrimination, coercion, and violence.

If it's true that "every sperm is sacred" for you, fine.  Good for you.  I hope you have a great job because I don't know how we're going to put our three pretty babies through college.  Assuming that you get married at age 25, like I did, and that you hit menopause at age 50, you've got 25 years of fertility there - and let's assume you have a kid every 18 months - we're talking 16 or 17 kids.  You must either come from money or plan on winning the lottery, or maybe you have different goals for your kids.  I don't know.  But it doesn't matter.  When YOUR religious beliefs start infringing on MY right to determine the size of my family, we have a serious, serious problem.

And furthermore, this planet just passed 7 billion people.  We can't all be Duggars.  Where are we supposed to put all these people?  Who is going to pay for them?  Two cats, if left to their own devices, can have over 80 million kittens in just 10 years.  Now, can you imagine how many people 7 billion people can have in the same time period?  Who is going to take care of all of them?  A bunch of celibate Catholic priests?  HARDLY.  (On the other hand, we may need all those people to take care of all the cats).

And what about the people, like my good friend Julie, who would dearly love to have more children but who can't because a pregnancy would literally kill her?  She has a heart condition.  She's a non-Catholic Christian.  Should she have to risk a pregnancy, and risk leaving her husband a widower and her children motherless because some celibate man thinks that his God is going to be pissed with her if she doesn't?  Should she and her husband have to endure a sexless marriage because of someone else's religious beliefs?  Why does the religious freedom of the Catholics trump her reproductive rights?  (Hint: it doesn't).

(And we haven't even touched on the whole abortion thing.  I do not have it in me to go there today.  Migraine.  Ugh.)

Even if it had been a table full of Catholic mothers, Ann, it wouldn't matter.  It would have been marginally less offensive, but frankly I get offended when any person of any religion tries to impose any of their religious values on anyone to whom they haven't personally given DNA.  And honestly, if you have a functioning uterus, I think you should too.  Because they aren't going to stop at not allowing their own employees access to birth control.  This is just one step in a systematic plan to strip all women everywhere of their basic right to determine the course of their own lives.

Why?  I wish I knew.  Maybe someone can explain it to me.  I welcome open discussion in the comments.

(And since they haven't thought of this, maybe the Catholics ought to start their own insurance company - Lord knows they have enough money - so that all the Catholic churches, universities, and companies can be insured by a Catholic insurance company which would therefore be religiously exempt from providing birth control.  But until they smarten up and do that, they're just going to have to STFU.)

Oh crap, one more thing.  Amish and Quaker people pay taxes, right?  And those taxes go to fund all kinds of things like war and electricity, that Amish and Quaker people don't believe in.  That's called "being a part of a society."  Sometimes your money gets used for things you don't personally approve of, but unless you're also willing to give up roads and police departments and fire departments and national security, you just have to freaking deal.  Personally, I choose to believe that all of the money we pay in taxes is the same exact money that comes back to us in research grants and contracts, which makes paying taxes a lot less painful.  I suggest that you adopt a similar belief.  If you're a really big fan of NASA, imagine that all your money goes directly to them.  If you hate NASA but love farmers, imagine your money being redistributed in the form of subsidies.  See how easy it is?

Proud to be a Hoosier

Driving home from dinner last night, we got caught in a terrible storm.  It was crazy windy, the clouds were all different colors of black and gray, there was hail, driving wind, and rain so heavy that the highway slowed to a crawl.  It didn't last long, but it did a lot of damage.

By now, you've probably heard about the stage that collapsed during the same storm at the Indiana State Fairgrounds Saturday night just before a concert by country group Sugarland.  The video is horrifying:

Watching it made me cry.  But I had to back it up and watch it again, because look at 0:13.

The people ran BACK.

Even as the storm worsened, even though no one knew if the debris was stable (it was safer to assume that it wasn't), my fellow Hoosiers rushed back toward the stage less than a second after it hit the ground, to help those who were trapped and injured.  They could have been electrocuted by the lighting wires, they could have been hit by lightning (standing near a huge metal thing on the ground in an electrical storm), but they went back.

That's why I can't imagine living anywhere else.

Well done, Indiana.

Our family's thoughts are with all the victims of this tragedy and their families, and all of those who witnessed this horrible scene in person.

Knorr Fried Rice

I am so excited to be participating in a recipe contest sponsored by Knorr.  They're launching a super new product called Knorr Homestyle Stock - concentrated chicken stock in these convenient little 1 ounce cups.  They come four to a package, and each one makes 3-1/2 cups of stock.  They're definitely more convenient than those giant cans of broth I've been using.

Sorry about the crummy lighting in my kitchen.  I turned on every light I have.

I wanted to come up with a recipe that would use the unique qualities of the Homestyle Stock, and I thought that what was really different about it is that it's so concentrated.  You can really get a lot of flavor out of these little guys!  It dawned on me that it might make fantastic rice.  I was right, and here's what I came up with:

First I made the rice.  I did it the night before because leftover rice makes better fried rice.

The Jasmine Rice package called for one cup of rice and 1-1/2 cups of water to make 3 cups of cooked rice, so I doubled it.  I used two cups of rice and 3 cups of water, and to that I added two of the little cups of Homestyle Stock.  This was a kind of radical act, because that's more than twice as concentrated as the label recommends, but I wanted to take advantage of the strong flavor.

You can see, even in my poorly lit kitchen, that the rice has a definite yellow tint.  I was glad to read that the product doesn't contain any added MSG (except for a trace amount that naturally occurs in autolyzed yeast extract).  Sometimes too much MSG gives me a headache.

I couldn't resist, and I tasted the rice at this point.  It would have been super just like this, maybe with a little parsley, alongside a chicken breast and a nice salad, or in a chicken and rice soup.  It was really flavorful!

But plain rice isn't going to win me a trip to BlogHer, so I pressed on.

Here's the rest of the ingredients:

That's my pre-cooked rice, two eggs, sesame oil, a package of frozen edamame (be smarter than I am, buy the pre-shelled stuff), a package of frozen peas and carrots, a can of water chestnuts, an onion, some green onion, and a package of chicken breast tenderloins.

I like to use chicken breast tenderloins for things like this because they're cheaper, and they're thin so they cook really quickly.

Chop the onion and the green onion, and beat the eggs.  Feel smug that you have cute bowls for just such an occasion.

Then realize that no cute bowls are enough to save you from bad lighting and bad photography, but persevere!

Close enough.  Put some sesame oil in the pan.  Debate the use of flash photography and food.

Scramble the egg, and completely forget to photograph the process.

In the same pan, cook the onion until it's translucent and starting to brown.

Once the onion is almost done, add the chicken tenderloins to the pan.  I didn't even cut them up, I just threw them in with the onions, then I used the spatula to break the chicken up into bite sized pieces as it cooked.  Meanwhile, I nuked the peas and carrots and the edamame in the microwave.  Because I'm a rebel, that's why.

Once the chicken is cooked through, add the rice and realize that your pan is too small.

Add soy sauce to taste.  I used about 1/3 cup.  

Be sure to get some on the stove, too.  Fry the rice over medium high heat, until it looks done, about 5 minutes.

Add the egg back in and heat it through.  Then, because your pan is too small, drain the veg that you nuked and put them in your biggest mixing bowl, and toss them with your rice, chicken, and egg mixture.  Nearly forget the water chestnuts, but remember to put them in at the last minute.

 

Top with the green onions and serve.

 

Pretty!

We had ours with frozen mini-egg rolls.  Aside from having to make the rice ahead of time (which, honestly, is pretty optional), this would be a great weeknight meal for a hungry family.  It only took me about 25-30 minutes to put it together, and that was stopping every 10 seconds to take pictures.  It makes a ton.  Best of all, it has a really good, chickeny flavor.

Chickeny is not a word, apparently.

My husband voluntarily took the leftovers to work the next day, so it must be good!

I guess we can all be relieved that I'm not a food photographer for a living.  Wow.  At least I have white dishes.  They say that's important.

I really appreciate this opportunity to compete for a trip to BlogHer!  Thanks Knorr!  I will definitely be looking for your product in my grocery store.  It tastes great, and is a lot easier on my poor back than giant cans of broth. 

Printable Recipe

2 cups Jasmine Rice
3 cups water
2 tubs of Knorr Homestyle Stock (enough to make 7 cups of stock!)

2 eggs
1/4 cup sesame oil
1 onion, diced
1 pound boneless skinless chicken breast tenderloins
1/3 cup soy sauce
1 package frozen edamame
1 package frozen peas and carrots
1 can water chestnuts
1/2 cup green onion, chopped (optional)

Cook the rice according to the package directions, adding the Knorr Homestyle Stock to the water prior to cooking.  Chill overnight.

Scramble the eggs in hot sesame oil, then remove (about 2 minutes).  In the same pan, saute the onion over medium high heat until it begins to brown (about 5 minutes).  Add the chicken and chop up with the spatula into bite sized pieces (about 5 minutes, depending on thickness).  When the chicken is cooked through, add the rice to the pan.  Add soy sauce to taste - between 1/4 and 1/2 cup.  Heat through (about 10 minutes).  Return the egg to the pan and heat through (about 3 minutes).

Meanwhile, microwave the frozen peas, carrots and edamame until hot (5 minutes, depending on your microwave).  Drain.

Toss the rice mixture and the vegetable mixture in a serving bowl.  Garnish with green onion.  Makes about 12 one-cup servings.

Torin's Story

My friend Cate, who knows Torin and his family personally, asked me to share this video with you.



Precious boy, I wish continued health and healing for you and your family.

If you are moved to help Torin raise money for the hospital that saved him, please click here.

Habiba

Please go to this link and read about Habiba - a woman whose 15 month old child was removed from her custody by authorities in Morocco.  Her mother's crime?  Breastfeeding her child.

I am horrified.  Just sickened.  I breastfed my girls until 28 months and 22 months.  I don't intend to stop nursing Jack until around the same age.  Please sign the petition and join the Facebook group, and spread the word.  Let's use the power of the internet and the power of mothers to help this woman get her baby back.

Thanks to PhD in Parenting, one of my favorite blogs, for getting the word out.

Bossy and Cecily are Cooler than Amy

When one is talking about Bossy, one must do so in the third person, which is why Amy is writing this, to inform all of you (Council?) that Bossy, and Cecily and Brad's Deals are over at Bossy's blog giving away an iPad 2. 

Amy would like to win it for her children.  Amy took Claire to Best Buy recently and Claire was playing Angry Birds on the iPad 2, and the sound had been turned off.  Claire said, "I want the sound on."  Amy said, "I think they've turned it off so it doesn't drive them nuts."  Claire then proceeded to go into the settings, turn on the sound, and return to her Angry Birds like it was nothing.  Council, she is four years old.

Good luck!

Your Cesarian Baby Will Never Love

A well-meaning stranger recommended the movie Birth As We Know It to Rebecca of Girl's Gone Child.  When I read about dolphin midwives on her blog, I had to look this up.

Unless you're an OB/GYN or a midwife, this 10-minute promotional video is not safe for work.




Ok, folks, it's time to rope. it. in.

4:50 - "We come into this world wide open to give and receive love, and when that is our primal experience, our nervous system is hardwired for the undeniable rightness of being." Cut to video of a Cesarian birth. "If our early impressions are anything less than loving, then that anything imprints in our nervous system as a valid experience of love, regardless of how painful those experiences might have been. And throughout our life we will subconsciously recreate the conditions and feelings that were imprinted at birth and early childhood. Because in spite of all logic, that is our comfort zone. The dramatic journey from the womb out into the world, whatever form it takes, reinforces that imprint.  In addition, our early impressions of life also have an enormous impact on our future capacity to experience intimacy and love."

You heard them.  If your "birth experience" is anything less than a transcendent zen experience, preferably including orgasm, your baby will never have a successful intimate relationship.  Never mind that a pretty significant portion of the children who are born via c-section would never have an opportunity to form an intimate relationship if they had not born via c-section, because they would have died before they had the chance. 

In spite of all logic, indeed.

Folks, this kind of hogwash is what you get when you listen to the woman who sells lotion at the mall on the subject of medicine.  (Is it just our mall that has thickly-accented women pushing lotion?)

I would love it if Dr. Amy would do an MST3K-style response video to that thing.

Look, I had three natural childbirths, not because of any hippy-dippy crap, but because the possible side-effects of the pain medication reached my personal threshold of "unacceptable risk."  I figured that if I could get through it without meds, I should, because the pain meds carried risks.  And honestly, the thought of a spinal headache or a big ol' needle in my back scared me more than the idea of natural birth.  I also was blessed with really speedy labors, so I had the option.  If I'd been in labor for a week and a half, I would've happily accepted the pain meds.  I was screaming for an epidural in the elevator on the way to L&D when I was in labor with MG.  Little did I know then that the screaming meant I was almost done.  I thought I had 12 more hours to go.

Parenting is all about managing risk, really.  It starts when you're pregnant, and whether or not you take that Category B medication that you really need, even though there's a chance that it poses unknown risk to the baby.  And everyone's risk threshold is different.  Everyone's pain threshold is different.  But it's profoundly stupid and cruel to insinuate that someone's baby won't ever be able to LOVE if it's born via c-section.

Why can't the "natural childbirth advocates" just be honest?  Why do they have to hitch their wagon to all this "newage" (rhymes with "sewage") crap?  Why the guilt?  Why the blame?  Why the drama?

Claire might have died in utero if we hadn't induced, because I had intrahepatic cholestasis of pregnancy and that's just how it works.  I also had pregnancy induced hypertension with all three of my kids, which could have killed us if we hadn't induced, too.  I wouldn't have to go far to find a dozen friends who wouldn't have survived, or whose kids wouldn't have survived, a water birth in the sea with dolphin freaking midwives. 

There is a time and a place for interventions, and that time and place needs to be determined by a woman and her caregiver.  That's it.  Let's take the competitiveness, and the drama, and most of all this pseudo-scientific pseudo-spiritual bullshit out of it.  It's not helping anyone. 

And quit traumatizing the poor dolphins.

Anniversary

We're going out of town this weekend for our anniversary, and I am going to be unbelievably pissed if the world ends while we're gone.

source: Wikimedia Commons

We had planned to leave the kids with Uncle Stu and Aunt Kathryn, but Ian has spent the bulk of this week fighting off a nasty tummy bug, so instead the girls are going to chill here with Grandpa Bob.

We stopped at the grocery store tonight and grabbed a few things, and I asked Dad, "Is there anything else I can do to make this weekend easier on you?"  He replied, "Yeah, don't go!"

Aw, Dad, you'll be fine! Jack will be with me, so the #1 thing they fight and/or get into trouble over will be gone. Give 'em Angry Birds and the occasional juice box, and they'll be great.

But God help you if the power goes out during the apocalypse. No iPhones? No videos? Yikes!

I get so aggravated with this "the sky is falling!" crap.  When I was a kid (13, to be precise) some mental giant decided that the world was going to end on June 7, 1989 at 01:23:45 am, because it would be 01:23:45 6/7/89.  Obviously it didn't (or if it did we all missed the memo), but it was very disconcerting to me at the time.  I mean, I still remember it 22 years later, so it made an impression.  There were the Hale Bop people, the Y2K people, there have been other Nostradamus "predictions" since then, and it's all b.s.

Every culture for the last 2000 years, at least, has thought that the world would end in their time - and so far they've all been wrong!  And this crap about the Mayan calendar ending in December of next year.  You know what?  The world ended for the Mayans a LONG time ago.  When was the last time you met a freaking Mayan?

And it's not going to end based on some coincidental lining up of the numbers on the calendar or the clock (11/11/11 or whatever) because those numbers are arbitrary!  They're numbers that we assigned!  There's no cosmic alarm clock out there past Jupiter that's going to go off because all the numbers lined up in some magical pattern.

Personally, I think the whole thing is a sick trick used by immoral people to manipulate weak, desperate people. Reading about people selling their homes or paying an atheist to care for their pets in the event of rapture makes my blood pressure rise.

The other part of it that gives me an ulcer is the unbelievable arrogance of the people who believe they're one of the "chosen."  It's pretty well accepted in these end-times cults that only 144,000 people are good enough to go to heaven. 

Let's break this down mathematically.  The population of the planet is estimated to be around 6,775,235,700 (2009).  So, if only 144,000 of the people living today were "saints," that would mean that each person has a 0.002125% chance of being one of those 144,000.

You're far better off playing the lottery.

But that's not what the good book says!  It says that 144,000 people are getting in.  Period.  This website estimates that 106,456,367,669 people have ever lived on earth.  Therefore, your chance of being one of the special 144,000 is actually 0.0001352%.

Nice.

I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure that I'm not in the top 144,000 people out of 100 billion.  Not even close.  I'd be happy to fall somewhere in the top billion.  I'd also be shocked if that were the case.

Yeah, yeah, I know, not by good works, but by grace alone....  Well, apparently God's grace is pretty darn limited. 

I'm going to go ahead and take my chances that the world will continue to spin, and that there will be a bunch of disappointed people running around making excuses, Sunday, for why their prophecy didn't come true.  Again.  And in the meantime, I'm going to enjoy the jokes, and our anniversary trip.

Thank You Planned Parenthood

I went to Planned Parenthood for reproductive care from the time I was 17 until I obtained health insurance when I was 28.

During that time, I obtained birth control, STD tests, yearly pap smears and breast exams, all the standard "woman stuff" that most of the folks who are so anti-PP don't have to worry about because they don't have pesky things like vaginas, breasts, uterusses, and ovaries.

Every time I went there, they asked me if I felt safe in my current relationships (in other words, was I being abused). They counseled me about safer sex, AIDS, and other STDs. They asked me if I was addicted to drugs or alcohol. They had dozens of pamphlets on the walls about a range of women's health and women's safety issues. Everything from where to go for WIC to how to deal with menopause.

They never gave me an abortion. They never needed to, because they gave me safer sex education and birth control pills instead.

And the care they gave me throughout more than a decade as their patient in four different cities was consistently affordable, compassionate, professional, safe, and reliable.

When I was 23 or 24 I found a lump. I was terrified. I called Planned Parenthood in a tizzy and they got me in immediately. Thankfully it was normal. They educated me about the difference between normal and abnormal lumps.

At Planned Parenthood, 97% of the services provided have nothing to do with abortion and everything to do with education, STD care and prevention, cancer care and prevention, contraception. And 0% of the abortions are paid for with federal funds. ZERO. It's already law.

I don't know why the republicans have women and children in their crosshairs. I don't understand how they can justify spending squajillions of dollars to kill people in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Libya, but not a $300 million on Planned Parenthood.

It doesn't make any sense, because the Planned Parenthood issue is a red herring. They are fighting over something that they know people have passionate feelings about to DISTRACT us from the real issues and to get people too stirred up to pay attention to what's really going on.

It's government theater, and it's shameful.

If the government shuts down, they'll have failed us all, and Congress should NOT receive pay or benefits (health insurance, etc.) as long as they continue with the shutdown.

The whether-or-not-to-pay-the-military thing was probably a red herring, too. They probably intended to pay them all along, but they were able to waste time writing a bill, getting it through, debating it, and then passing it at the last minute to look like heroes even as they're failing us.

When are people going to start paying attention?

What's Wrong with Food

I've read her book, The Unhealthy Truth: How Our Food Is Making Us Sick - And What We Can Do About It, but if you don't have time for that, here's a 20 minute summary:



Brilliant.

This is important stuff, folks. We need to start paying more attention - especially those of us who are responsible for feeding growing children!  Yes, it hurts to spend $6 or $7 a gallon for organic milk, but having my children get cancer later would hurt more. 

Jillian Michael's latest podcast talked about how (and why) to find the money to afford organic food.  If you have another 20 minutes, you can listen to it here.  (It's at the beginning of the show).

We don't do all organic food, but we do spend the extra money on organic milk and humanely raised beef (we get it from BJ's uncle).  We avoid fast food.  I cook at home using whole ingredients as much as possible.  One person can't do everything (especially when our food supply is so completely saturated with these products) but everyone can do something.  We do our best to find balance.

I strongly encourage you to look at what you're feeding your kids, and think about what small changes you could make for the better, and to remember this issue when it's time to vote in the fall.

(video via Mrs. Q)

Aw, shucks

Someone wrote today and told me that she'd been struggling with the same issues I've been battling, and that reading this blog has helped her.

That's why I write.  The worst part of it all was when I was a new mom, and I didn't know anyone who had gone through PPD, and I felt so alone and so crazy.  It was terrifying.  I didn't see how I could ever find my way out of the dark.  Of course, now I know that it's common and treatable and survivable, but I sure didn't know then.


You're not alone.  I'm here if you need to talk to someone who understands.  And there are so many wonderful resources on the web.  We're so lucky to live in this time, when we're all so connected to each other.

In the news

Listening to the news on NPR this morning on the way to work, this kept running through my head.  (Embedding disabled, so you're going to have to click through to see what I'm talking about).

This is definitive proof that in spite of the husband, three kids, business, mortgage, two cars, picket fence, dog, retirement fund, will, etc. and being 35 years old, I am not yet a grown up.

Chai Creamer

I was surfing around this morning and came across this recipe for instant chai tea powder at Butter and Oven Mitts.  I knew it was something I had to try, ASAP.  I got into my cupboards to see what I needed to have BJ pick up at the store, and I found that I had every ingredient except the instant tea.

Hmmmm....

So I went ahead and mixed it up, and added it to a cup of hot (decaf) tea.  It's AWESOME! 

Here's the recipe I used:

1 cup non-fat dry milk powder
2 cups powdered Coffee Mate (French vanilla flavor - I didn't have plain on hand)
1-1/2 cups white sugar
2 tsp ground ginger
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp allspice
1 tsp nutmeg
1 tsp cloves
2 tsp ground cardamom
1/2 tsp white pepper

In a large bowl, mix all of the above together.  In a food processor (or a Magic Bullet, if you're me) blend ingredients one cup at a time until it is a fine powder (this step evenly distributes the milk and sugar, and eliminates pesky chunks of Coffee Mate).  Store in an air-tight container.

To make chai, add two teaspoons (or a big ol' tablespoon full if you're crazy like me) to a cup of hot tea.

This recipe is going to save me about a zillion dollars at Fourbucks Starbucks.  Love it!  Thanks Cassandra!!

 

Psychology Today - Ticking Me Off All Week

Normally I really enjoy Psychology Today's blog, but lately, they're just honking me off.

First there was this post about "Why Your Child Cries."

Bottom line, "most of the kids, autistic or not, cry mainly for one reason: it works."

Grrr...

I wrote a lengthy comment, but with the way the website is set up, no one ever sees the comments, so I'm going to copy it here because I can.

I can think of a good half a dozen reasons why children cry that have nothing to do with manipulation. Stress, overstimulation, pain, fright, frustration, anxiety - and those are just off the top of my head. Hunger, fatigue, and other physical needs are other legitimate, non-manipulative reasons for crying.

Children cry to communicate, not to manipulate. Young and non-verbal children may cry because that is the only way they can express their needs. I've already learned the difference between my 6 week old baby's hungry cry and his tired cry. We're dealing with awful reflux that makes him scream, but he rarely cries because he knows that I'm here, responding to him and comforting him, and that he doesn't need to cry because his needs are met, in spite of his pain.

Your advice to "move slowly" so that the child won't learn that crying will get him his way seems misguided at best, and cruel at worst. Children of responsive, engaged parents cry far less - they learn that they don't need to get all wound up to get their needs met - whether they're autistic or not.

When my older children cry, I teach them to use self-calming techniques ("breathe," for example) and to communicate with words instead of tears, because I understand that their tears are an attempt to communicate with me, not to "get their way." I generally comfort them through the tears, "Calm down, it's ok," and once they're settled we talk about what happened and what needs to happen next. That's not being manipulated - that's being a loving, engaged, responsive, compassionate parent.

If nothing else, you should have fleshed this post out a LOT before publishing it. I think you recognize that there are legitimate reasons to cry (as you said, "Of course, that's not the only reason...") but you should talk about how to tell the difference between manipulative and other types of crying, and when it's ok to "move slowly."

I can't imagine anything sadder than being in real distress, and having the people I rely on to care for me move deliberately slowly in an attempt to... what? Show me who's boss??

Ironically, the very same night I wrote this, Mary Grace had a big old neon screaming hissy fit, pitched for the sole purpose of getting out of cleaning up...  But hey, I'm not stupid.  I know that kids DO manipulate, and when they do I react accordingly.  I just think it shows a fundamental flaw in one's parenting philosophy if one assumes that a kid is manipulating first, and attempts to find other reasons for crying later.

I finally calmed down from that one, and then I see this article today (comments seem to be disabled, so I'll just comment here).  Fortunately, this time the author seems to agree with me - although we arrive at the same conclusion via two very different routes.

The author of the post seems to think that all parents have some bizarre version of Stockholm Syndrome - that we love our kids because we can't quit them, so like a kidnapping victim we fall in love with our captors.  Not only do I think that's a weak argument, I think it shows a basic, fundamental flaw in psychology's interpretation of how people operate.  (Besides - people can and do quit their kids every day, whether they physically leave or just mentally check out - it happens all the time).

Psychologists seem to equate happiness with a lack of work.  (Maybe that's why they became psychologists?  Who else gets paid so much to sit around and say, "Tell me more about that..."?  Sure beats construction when it comes to ease!*)  I, however, have noticed that when I look back over my life, the times when I worked the hardest are the times that bring me the most joy.

Here's the best example I can come up with - I went to IU and slacked off and partied and watched soap operas for two years before I dropped out.  Later, I returned to college at Purdue, where I worked my ass of to maintain an awesome GPA, was on the Dean's List every semester, and I worked full time while doing it.  Guess which time period in my life I look back on more fondly.  Purdue, hands down.  It wasn't because I was with BJ when I was at Purdue - I had boyfriends at IU too.  It wasn't because I had more friends at Purdue - in fact, I left some of my best friends behind when I left IU.  It certainly wasn't because working 40 hours a week and taking 15 - 18 credit hours was easy.  No, I look back at my time at Purdue fondly because I worked hard, and I did something difficult (earning a degree) that not everyone can do.  My self-esteem was higher at Purdue because I was achieving - I was earning it!  That hard work paid off.

I had this job once where I was paid about $10, maybe $12 an hour to do NOTHING.  I was in an office alone, working for this internet service provider, and their main office was in another town.  I have no idea why they maintained the local office, but for whatever reason they decided that they needed a person there to provide "customer service" to the one person a week who came in to pay their bill, and the two or three people a day, at most, who called.  I also had to do something or another if the power went out.  The power never went out.  A lot of people think that making that kind of money in their early 20s (in the late 1990s) for absolutely ZERO effort would be awesome.  Those people are wrong.  I was miserable.  I was lonely and bored and tired and cranky.  The days crawled by so slowly.  It absolutely sucked.

Ease does not equal happiness, no matter what your shrink tells you.  If you solved all of your current problems you'd simply find yourself new problems.  It's part of being human. 

So, yes, parenting is really hard.  It's "the toughest job you'll ever love," in more ways than I can count.  But the difficulty, the struggle, is what makes it great!  Without struggle, there is no opportunity to learn and grow and change...  And that's why we'll all look back on our childbearing and childrearing years fondly when we're old and we have nothing that we have to do - not because they were easy, but because they were hard, and through that difficulty we grew and learned and became better versions of ourselves.

Well, that, and because kids are just cute and snuggly and fun, but everyone knows that.

* Edited to add:  The part about psychologists not working is just a joke.  I'm well aware that one doesn't need to break a sweat to work hard, I was just kidding.  Tell me more about how it made you feel when I made that joke.  :)

Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh Gag!

I haven't been doing a lot of writing this year, what with the baby attached constantly to my breast and all, but I've been doing a lot of reading...  And I'm not liking what I'm reading folks.

Seriously?

First Amy Chua came out and called all American/Western mothers wimps, and basically said that we don't love our kids enough to demand that they perform like trained circus animals or something....  I think she wants to be the Siegfried & Roy of parenting, with all her little tiger children jumping through hoops around her.  At least, that's how I pictured it.  And now Blossom is on the Today Show's mommyblog telling us that she has never told her kids to "say please" or "say thank you."  Wow.  I didn't even realize that correcting kids' manners had gone out of vogue for modern mommies.  I'm pretty sure that's a revelation we can all do without.  I've met some kids who really, really needed to be reminded to not act like wild animals. 

Two ends of the parenting spectrum, both telling us that we're doing it wrong.  Both stretching the wild animal metaphors to the absolute limit.  Don't even get me started on Sarah Palin and her Mama Grizzly thing.  Ugh.

Every time one of these articles appears, the blogosphere erupts with praise and condemnation, and everyone has an opinion, and everyone says that the original author is doing this and that and the other wrong, and it goes on and on...

Well, I'm here to say two important words (that Mayim Bialik would never say):     Shut up!

Everyone needs to quit with the mommy bashing and the my-way-is-better-than-your-way-ing and the sanctimony and the catty crappiness.  Just knock it off.

I talk about parenting a lot, both here and in real life, and I work really hard to say, "This is how I decided to approach this situation," but not to judge other moms and their choices.  I think I've been pretty consistent in saying, "your mileage may vary," when I've talked about touchy issues in mothering.  I hope I've succeeded, and that I haven't made anyone feel like this is a "my way or the highway" sort of blog (or worse, I hope no one reads this as an "I'm better than you are!" blog - I would die of embarrassment). 

Yes, I believe in breastfeeding.  I also believe in paying the mortgage, though, and if I had to work for someone other than my husband in order to keep a roof over our heads, and if that environment weren't friendly to pumping or bringing the baby with me, I would absolutely feed formula.  I recognize that not every mom has the luxury of being able to stay home or take their baby to work, and I am just profoundly grateful that I do.  I hope that comes through when I write about nursing.  I also know what it's like to have supply issues, or medical issues that prevent breastfeeding, and you know what?  Even if you had no reason at all to not breastfeed, it was your choice and it's none of my business.

Similarly, I believe in co-sleeping.  You know why?  Because that is the only way I get any sleep.  I would be thrilled if our kids would sleep in a crib, but they have other plans.  Maybe I'm a rotten mother and I just haven't figured out the magic secret to getting kids to sleep in their own beds.  (People are already asking me if Jack is sleeping through the night, and I'm like, "Um, no, we're hoping that the 5-1/2 year old will figure it out soon, then we'll work on the baby!")  If you can get your kids to sleep in a crib at 6 weeks, or to sleep through the night in general, I am impressed, and I think you're lucky that you got kids that sleep well.  Claire is one of those kids, and we parented her the same way we've parented the other two... so I'm pretty sure that it's just luck and temperament, and not some magic secret that I'm missing or some superiority in your parenting style vs. mine.

Do you have anything in orange?

I read an article a couple days ago that said that Graco strollers are the "Velveeta" of strollers, and that other mothers probably judge me because of my Graco stroller.  You know what?  I don't want to be friends with those materialistic mommies, anyway.  I'll take my Graco pushing, Kohl's Sale shopping, Honda driving, Velveeta eating crowd any day over a bunch of one-uppers.  I honestly have never noticed another woman's stroller, except when I was looking at doubles when the girls were little, and I quizzed everyone I saw with a double stroller on whether they liked theirs or not.  I wouldn't be able to pick a Maclaran out of a crowd, nor do I care. 

Don't you think we would all be better off if we stopped judging each other?  Seriously, we're all doing the best we can with what we've got - and we all have limited resources - time, money, breastmilk, ability to deal with a lack of sleep, etc.  None of us have infinite supplies of any of those things, and our limits are unique to our individual situations.  So why not just acknowledge that anyone who is taking the time to read mommyblogs and parenting websites is probably already doing the best she can (otherwise she'd be busy doing whatever people who aren't obsessed with parenting do).  The moms who truly need the advice are NOT the ones reading these blogs and getting into these endless debates, and even if they were, they're probably not going to listen to someone who's saying, "You're doing it wrong!  You need to be more like this wild animal!"

I think this year we should all retroactively resolve to stop judging each other, and we should remember that all of us are just doing the best we can with what we've got.  And we should stop looking to old episodes of Wild Kingdom for the secret to better parenting.  For real.

Don't worry, though, I'm not going to hold my breath.  What would that make me, a dolphin mother?

GUEST POST: Gen Thompson, Pat Brown Profiler

I am entirely too cranky to blog today, so I'm putting this blog in the capable hands of Gen with a G, hilarious new blogger and high school friend.  If you haven't had the pleasure of reading her stories, do yourself a favor and click over and read.  This one is my favorite, so far.  She's awesome.  Her posts make me laugh out loud like a crazy person. 

In case you missed all the Pat Brown brou-ha-ha, you might want to read this and this first, to catch yourself up. ~Amy


I totally wish that I had gotten to read what Pat Brown, Criminal Profiler actually said on AOL because based on Amy’s posts and your comments, it sounded like it was riveting. I’m always behind on these things, but it doesn’t stop me from having an opinion. And Pat Brown, Criminal Profiler knows what that’s like. My educated guess leads me to believe she said something along the lines of this: “PPD is for pretend. I am Pat Brown, Criminal Profiler, so you know I’m right.” But since AOL was all “whoops, our bad!” and pulled her quote before I could read it firsthand, I had to go do a little profiling myself to get a better sense of the woman.

As any good investigator will tell you, if you want to be in the know, go where all the cool kids hang out. So, I went to visit Pat Brown, Criminal Profiler’s Facebook page and found two status updates of intrigue. Pat Brown, Criminal Profiler says:

“More stupidity. Studies say kids who get less sleep are fatter. Probably because they are up eating in front of the television.” AND “Woo hoo! They shot the bastard at Discovery Channel and the hostages are safe!”

So, what I’ve learned: not only is Pat Brown, Criminal Profiler an expert psychologist, she is also a brilliant scientist that can explain the causes of childhood obesity by suggesting every child suffering from a lack of sleep is obviously just staying up late snacking in front of the tv. Plus she is super smart and well spoken, because she begins updates about complicated situations like the violent deaths of dangerous people who take hostages with the words woo hoo!

Very interesting. I must know more.

So of course, experts like me always make Wikipedia their second stop. This handy source tells me that, a while back, Pat Brown rented out her room to a murder suspect. This event inspired her to go into her line of work. Clearly, Pat Brown, Criminal Profiler is an astute judge of character.

So, I’m beginning to wonder, does Pat Brown, Criminal Profiler know everything about everything? Cool!

But then, I hit a bump in the road. Somewhere in my investigation, (I’m not sure where, but who needs facts? I’m Gen Thompson, Pat Brown Profiler!) I learned that Pat Brown had some babies of her own. And now I’m just utterly confused. Because I can understand and accept how a self-proclaimed psychiatrist, scientist, super smart, well-spoken woman (who is an astute judge of character AND, let us not forget, CRIMINAL PROFILER) can bend her mind and proclaim that PPD is a hoax. I mean, a lot of well-meaning people do this all the time – state their opinions as facts. But how can a MOM proclaim that? How is that even possible?

She has to remember bursting into uncontrollable tears at the slightest provocation. She has to remember hiding in the bathroom, running the shower and singing at the top of her lungs to drown out the baby’s incessant crying, if only for a minute. She has to remember a body that literally ached for sleep. She must recall the complete and utter desperation that accompanies the joy of new motherhood. Come on Pat Brown, Criminal Profiler. For real? You don’t believe in PPD?


You’re lying and you know it.

Babble and Breastfeeding

Busy weekend for the PB family, so in lieu of a real post, I ask that you click here and read this article at Ph.D. in Parenting about Babble and Similac.

Breastfeeding is a political issue - and formula companies make billions of dollars while compromising the health of our children.  Yes, thank God formula exists for women who can't breastfeed, or for women whose circumstances make it difficult or impossible.  I agree that breastfeeding isn't possible for everyone, and that it's to everyone's benefit that there exists an alternative for women who must work, women who adopt, women who have to take medication that's incompatible with nursing, etc. etc.

I'm not writing this to judge YOUR individual choices.

However, formula companies have spent years actively engaged in the process of sabotaging healthy mothers who could choose to nurse because they make money when you choose formula over breastfeeding.  It's been well documented and it's been going on for years.  It's especially egregious in poor nations around the world.

Please take a moment to click through to see how formula companies are currently engaged in breastfeeding sabotage, and then use your voice to do something.  I'm sharing this post here and on Facebook, and I wrote a letter to the two Babble e-mail addresses that Ph.D. in Parenting listed, and I told them that they should be ashamed of themselves.  What are you going to do?

Who Knew?

I had no idea that there was a pertussis vaccine for parents.  I'm totally going to talk to my doctor about it (after the pregnancy, probably, because I can't even take a flipping Advil, I sincerely doubt that they're going to give me a shot). 

Thanks, J.Lo!