Posts
I have, again, been diagnosed with...Stress.
I went into the doctor with abdominal and menstrual complaints. I couldn't decide if I needed a gynecologist for the constant period or a GI for the ensuing stomach issues. I settled on my PCP when I broke out in a rash on top of it all.
And, after taking enough blood to twice collapse my vein (although the phlebotomist was awesome and I didn't even pass out this time) and doing a pelvic ultrasound to examine the female organs (during which I *did* pass out, oddly. Something about drinking too much water on a hot day...) The nurse called with good news.
I'm perfectly healthy.
Which, I guess, explains why I'm so tired and nauseous.
Now what?
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Dyes Must Die
She's been at it again. My friend, the one who kept prodding me to go gluten free. Whose whisper haunted me until I decided to just do it and prove once and for all, to myself, the doctors and her that it was NOT the gluten. (And of course, it was)
This time it's dye. My youngest has some, well, issues. She's unique. She's wonderful. She's aggravating. At one point we were advised to have her tested for autism. But, since she was cuddly, bubbly, bright and happy to interact when there weren't strangers around, we never followed up on that. Now, she has few if any of the hallmarks. However, some days I can't decide whether I should fall down laughing or curl up and cry at her antics. She's usually doing both. She finds our buttons, and not just pushes but POUNDS on them. And then she pulls them out, just for the sake of doing it again.
The thing is, she doesn't seem to want to be acting up. She gets in a state and can't seem to control herself. And the bigger she gets, the harder it is to help her gain control. It's one thing to pick up a screaming 4 year old and deposit her in her bedroom. It's quite another thing to disentangle a 7 year old who weighs almost half what you do (granted, I'm way too skinny for my own good) from on top of her sister, gently manhandle her down the obstacle course of a hallway and keep her in her bedroom for the duration of a time out. Especially when she realizes that acting like dead weight until she sees a hand hold will definitely slow you down, and might even grant her a 3 minute reprieve. During which she can strip and run screaming through the house "Mommy hates me, Mommy hates me, Mommy hates me!"
(Why does shethink I hate her? Because I'm sitting there, gently prying her hands away, and taking away privileges while I try to get her to the quiet area that she can simmer down in. When the problem is obviously her sister's lack of malleability. She won't give up her share of a treat [at least, not all of it] or abandon her game in the middle without whining or just let Bumblebee win if they're playing against one another. It's what you'd expect in a 4 year old. But she's 7.)
She's not always this way. But when she is, I'm tempted to sell her to the gypsies. Or maybe just run away and join the circus, myself. (Wait, they sell popcorn there, don't they? Nevermind.)
The school called in a counselor when they tired of prying her sobbing arms off of me as I slipped away as quickly as I could, then slunk back to sneak peaks through the window, trying to reassure myself she'd recovered. The counselor seems as baffled as we are. Is it anxiety? PDD? SID? Is there something physical we're missing? Something else entirely? Best not to label, just wait and see. (But stop peaking through windows, its spooking out the kids and some of the parents.)
My friend has patiently listened to my frustrations. At each outburst she covers the same bases. "Now, Penguin has issues with dye...have you thought about that?" "Could it be some sort of food dye?" "Do you think she's reacting to something in her diet? Artificial dyes?"
Like an ostrich, I've stuffed my head in the sand. Reassuring her, and anyone else, that Ms. Bumblebee does not seem to have any issues with food dyes at all. She doesn't get headaches from them. No vomiting. She's my healthy kid.
Except when she has these outbursts. And then, she's still healthy. Just in danger of being disowned.
It's not the food dye. There wasn't much in my house. Occasional fruit "snacks" for only her, some medecines, valentine and Halloween candy. Our staples are dye free (And if you think yours are, check the ingredients on marshmallows, pickles and tooth paste.)
But after reading "The Unhealthy Truth", I resolved to stop spending money on artificial food colorings. I don't want that gunk in my kids, even if it is only the blue that hurts Penguin. I don't want to support the industry that pours chemical concoctions into the bodies and brains of growing kids, but only in the USA. (Many international countries already use natural food dyes in products found in other countries)
So, I sat the kids down and we replaced the occassional cheap fruit snacks with the occasional, not-terribly-expensive Florida's naturals and the not-so-cheap Annie's gummies. Things improved, but of course, it wasn't JUST that we've been dye free. Besides, we did still have melt downs, and occassionally my friend would gently point out correlations. "I did see her eating a popsicle with her class..." "Do you think it's related to that bright blue tongue?" No. No I didn't. Well, I did, but I didn't want to.
And then we had VBS. The kids had a phenomenol time on the "Boomerang Express"; singing, crafting, playing games and earning...starbursts? That's okay. I didn't think twice.
Until Wednesday. We were putting on our shoes, gathering our handpicked canned goods to donate and heading out the door when Bumblebee burst into tears. "Pick me up early!" she entreated.
Huh? The entire day lasted maybe 3 hours. She'd been having so much fun she hadn't been ready to leave all week. "You don't love me! I'm scared. If you loved me, you'd pick me up early!"
This was sounding very familiar. Very after-a-birthday-party-ish. Very I-don't-want-to-go-to-school-ish.
And she'd earned at least 3 starbursts the day before.
During another tantrum that afternoon, I sat down and talked with her. (This isn't easy when a child is screaming that you hate them so they hate you.) I told her that I was worried about the tantrums. And that I noticed that she might be feeling a little more cranky than normal (Fighting fire with fire just gives us both sore throats, so I thought I'd treat her matter of factly, and play down the screaming.) and I wondered if she thought it might have anything to do with what she'd been eating, like the starbursts.
To my surprise, she turned on me and said "NO! I was watching too and guess what? When I eat candy with dye in it you get REALLY REALLY MEAN!!! Even when I don't even tell you that I ate it! You just start hating me for no good reason!"
Wow.
After the storm had blown out she agreed that "everything and everyone is meaner" after she eats dye. She won't agree that it makes HER more upset. But she did say that she might, maybe, sort of, kind of be willing to give it up. She doesn't like crying.
I'm not certain that it is the dye. Like most parents, I'm tempted to blame the excitement of the day, and the weather, and say she's coming down with something. Food should be fun. I don't want to place unnecessary restrictions.
But, echoes of my friend's voice are haunting me. And *shaking sand from my ostrich feathers* I think it's time to say...It just might be the dye.
This time it's dye. My youngest has some, well, issues. She's unique. She's wonderful. She's aggravating. At one point we were advised to have her tested for autism. But, since she was cuddly, bubbly, bright and happy to interact when there weren't strangers around, we never followed up on that. Now, she has few if any of the hallmarks. However, some days I can't decide whether I should fall down laughing or curl up and cry at her antics. She's usually doing both. She finds our buttons, and not just pushes but POUNDS on them. And then she pulls them out, just for the sake of doing it again.
The thing is, she doesn't seem to want to be acting up. She gets in a state and can't seem to control herself. And the bigger she gets, the harder it is to help her gain control. It's one thing to pick up a screaming 4 year old and deposit her in her bedroom. It's quite another thing to disentangle a 7 year old who weighs almost half what you do (granted, I'm way too skinny for my own good) from on top of her sister, gently manhandle her down the obstacle course of a hallway and keep her in her bedroom for the duration of a time out. Especially when she realizes that acting like dead weight until she sees a hand hold will definitely slow you down, and might even grant her a 3 minute reprieve. During which she can strip and run screaming through the house "Mommy hates me, Mommy hates me, Mommy hates me!"
(Why does shethink I hate her? Because I'm sitting there, gently prying her hands away, and taking away privileges while I try to get her to the quiet area that she can simmer down in. When the problem is obviously her sister's lack of malleability. She won't give up her share of a treat [at least, not all of it] or abandon her game in the middle without whining or just let Bumblebee win if they're playing against one another. It's what you'd expect in a 4 year old. But she's 7.)
She's not always this way. But when she is, I'm tempted to sell her to the gypsies. Or maybe just run away and join the circus, myself. (Wait, they sell popcorn there, don't they? Nevermind.)
The school called in a counselor when they tired of prying her sobbing arms off of me as I slipped away as quickly as I could, then slunk back to sneak peaks through the window, trying to reassure myself she'd recovered. The counselor seems as baffled as we are. Is it anxiety? PDD? SID? Is there something physical we're missing? Something else entirely? Best not to label, just wait and see. (But stop peaking through windows, its spooking out the kids and some of the parents.)
My friend has patiently listened to my frustrations. At each outburst she covers the same bases. "Now, Penguin has issues with dye...have you thought about that?" "Could it be some sort of food dye?" "Do you think she's reacting to something in her diet? Artificial dyes?"
Like an ostrich, I've stuffed my head in the sand. Reassuring her, and anyone else, that Ms. Bumblebee does not seem to have any issues with food dyes at all. She doesn't get headaches from them. No vomiting. She's my healthy kid.
Except when she has these outbursts. And then, she's still healthy. Just in danger of being disowned.
It's not the food dye. There wasn't much in my house. Occasional fruit "snacks" for only her, some medecines, valentine and Halloween candy. Our staples are dye free (And if you think yours are, check the ingredients on marshmallows, pickles and tooth paste.)
But after reading "The Unhealthy Truth", I resolved to stop spending money on artificial food colorings. I don't want that gunk in my kids, even if it is only the blue that hurts Penguin. I don't want to support the industry that pours chemical concoctions into the bodies and brains of growing kids, but only in the USA. (Many international countries already use natural food dyes in products found in other countries)
So, I sat the kids down and we replaced the occassional cheap fruit snacks with the occasional, not-terribly-expensive Florida's naturals and the not-so-cheap Annie's gummies. Things improved, but of course, it wasn't JUST that we've been dye free. Besides, we did still have melt downs, and occassionally my friend would gently point out correlations. "I did see her eating a popsicle with her class..." "Do you think it's related to that bright blue tongue?" No. No I didn't. Well, I did, but I didn't want to.
And then we had VBS. The kids had a phenomenol time on the "Boomerang Express"; singing, crafting, playing games and earning...starbursts? That's okay. I didn't think twice.
Until Wednesday. We were putting on our shoes, gathering our handpicked canned goods to donate and heading out the door when Bumblebee burst into tears. "Pick me up early!" she entreated.
Huh? The entire day lasted maybe 3 hours. She'd been having so much fun she hadn't been ready to leave all week. "You don't love me! I'm scared. If you loved me, you'd pick me up early!"
This was sounding very familiar. Very after-a-birthday-party-ish. Very I-don't-want-to-go-to-school-ish.
And she'd earned at least 3 starbursts the day before.
During another tantrum that afternoon, I sat down and talked with her. (This isn't easy when a child is screaming that you hate them so they hate you.) I told her that I was worried about the tantrums. And that I noticed that she might be feeling a little more cranky than normal (Fighting fire with fire just gives us both sore throats, so I thought I'd treat her matter of factly, and play down the screaming.) and I wondered if she thought it might have anything to do with what she'd been eating, like the starbursts.
To my surprise, she turned on me and said "NO! I was watching too and guess what? When I eat candy with dye in it you get REALLY REALLY MEAN!!! Even when I don't even tell you that I ate it! You just start hating me for no good reason!"
Wow.
After the storm had blown out she agreed that "everything and everyone is meaner" after she eats dye. She won't agree that it makes HER more upset. But she did say that she might, maybe, sort of, kind of be willing to give it up. She doesn't like crying.
I'm not certain that it is the dye. Like most parents, I'm tempted to blame the excitement of the day, and the weather, and say she's coming down with something. Food should be fun. I don't want to place unnecessary restrictions.
But, echoes of my friend's voice are haunting me. And *shaking sand from my ostrich feathers* I think it's time to say...It just might be the dye.
A Vegetarian Waivers
I've always been vegetarian.
No, that's not true. My commitment began when I was around 6. I'd just wheedled my vegetarian-leaning mom into buying me a hamburger instead of a fish sandwich at a fast food place. My brother was contentedly staring out the window, munching away. I'd just taken a bite when he asked, wide eyed and innocent, if the field outside was where they kept the cows before "bashing their brains out and chopping them up into hamburgers".
Of course I freaked out.
And when my mom managed to calm me down, and yet assure me that the hamburger I'd begged, bargained and pleaded for was, indeed, derived from a cow, I resolved to go hungry that day. (Well, I ate the fries) And never, ever eat meat again.
When my conscience finally connected chicken and turkey with the critters that run around flapping their wings and pecking the ground, they left my diet as well. And I finally fished fish out in an attempt to feel better. Literature in the 90's claimed that vegetarians had healthier lifestyles than meat eaters. I didn't know why, but I didn't feel good. And I was all to happy to blame meat.
By high school, I needed more than "meat is gross", and I explored all the real reasons for my vegetarian choices. Animal cruelty was one, but it was easily compensated for by free range, organic options that were hitting the market. Certainly my goal wasn't to save a cow, the excessive number that are raised are harming our environment as it is.
The concept that one vegetarian can survive for a lifetime on the land it requires to feed one meat eater for one year really disturbed me. Environmental and political concerns, coupled with the idea that our bodies were not originally designed to digest meat (Our teeth simply sharp enough) strengthened my resolve.
But looking back, I wasn't "well". I just hid it well.
I later dabbled with various dietary measures, noting that on days I didn't have time to eat I felt great. With the IBS diagnosis, I went vegan on a doctor's advice. I dabbled in macrobiotics. I've since read up on paleo diets, blood type diets and the Specific Carb Diet, not to mention several versions of the Candida diet.
I've come to the conclusion that there is no one diet that fits everyone. Many facets of cure-all dietary approaches are similar, but address different causes for symptoms. I don't believe that humans were originally designed to eat meat. But in the grand scheme of things, we've been doing it for much longer than we've been eating gluten grains.
I've also come to the conclusion that I can't survive on rice, eggs, applesauce and a few well cooked veggies. Especially when I flare and those well cooked veggies don't settle down and get digested. I don't know that animal foods will help, but since I'm trying to put my trust in G-d, I've turned to prayer for an answer. And it occurred to me that if I AM going to use meat, I should do it kosher, to the best of my ability.
The fact that any food that is truly kosher for passover is also corn free is a bonus.
I also can't bring myself to consume red meat. No bashed up cows for me :-) But Chicken Soup is the Jewish Penicillin...so; I'll take solace in the thought that Mary probably cooked up something similar for her son. What was good enough for Him can't be too bad for me. Can it?
No, that's not true. My commitment began when I was around 6. I'd just wheedled my vegetarian-leaning mom into buying me a hamburger instead of a fish sandwich at a fast food place. My brother was contentedly staring out the window, munching away. I'd just taken a bite when he asked, wide eyed and innocent, if the field outside was where they kept the cows before "bashing their brains out and chopping them up into hamburgers".
Of course I freaked out.
And when my mom managed to calm me down, and yet assure me that the hamburger I'd begged, bargained and pleaded for was, indeed, derived from a cow, I resolved to go hungry that day. (Well, I ate the fries) And never, ever eat meat again.
When my conscience finally connected chicken and turkey with the critters that run around flapping their wings and pecking the ground, they left my diet as well. And I finally fished fish out in an attempt to feel better. Literature in the 90's claimed that vegetarians had healthier lifestyles than meat eaters. I didn't know why, but I didn't feel good. And I was all to happy to blame meat.
By high school, I needed more than "meat is gross", and I explored all the real reasons for my vegetarian choices. Animal cruelty was one, but it was easily compensated for by free range, organic options that were hitting the market. Certainly my goal wasn't to save a cow, the excessive number that are raised are harming our environment as it is.
The concept that one vegetarian can survive for a lifetime on the land it requires to feed one meat eater for one year really disturbed me. Environmental and political concerns, coupled with the idea that our bodies were not originally designed to digest meat (Our teeth simply sharp enough) strengthened my resolve.
But looking back, I wasn't "well". I just hid it well.
I later dabbled with various dietary measures, noting that on days I didn't have time to eat I felt great. With the IBS diagnosis, I went vegan on a doctor's advice. I dabbled in macrobiotics. I've since read up on paleo diets, blood type diets and the Specific Carb Diet, not to mention several versions of the Candida diet.
I've come to the conclusion that there is no one diet that fits everyone. Many facets of cure-all dietary approaches are similar, but address different causes for symptoms. I don't believe that humans were originally designed to eat meat. But in the grand scheme of things, we've been doing it for much longer than we've been eating gluten grains.
I've also come to the conclusion that I can't survive on rice, eggs, applesauce and a few well cooked veggies. Especially when I flare and those well cooked veggies don't settle down and get digested. I don't know that animal foods will help, but since I'm trying to put my trust in G-d, I've turned to prayer for an answer. And it occurred to me that if I AM going to use meat, I should do it kosher, to the best of my ability.
The fact that any food that is truly kosher for passover is also corn free is a bonus.
I also can't bring myself to consume red meat. No bashed up cows for me :-) But Chicken Soup is the Jewish Penicillin...so; I'll take solace in the thought that Mary probably cooked up something similar for her son. What was good enough for Him can't be too bad for me. Can it?
Saturday, June 13, 2009
In which the world becomes a better place...
I swear, the way to a mom's heart is through her kids.
Yesterday brought Penguin's elementary school years to a close. Of course there were tears. (I was a bit surprised, even a few boys were hauling tissues around.) But what touched me most wasn't the slideshow, or the farewell song, or the little "graduation ceremony".
Yesterday morning a PTA mom approached me with a box of popsicles and asked me to double check it. They were, indeed, free from artficial dyes, dairy and gluten. She was happy and went to give Penguin her treat (which made me happy, of course) and after school, Penguin catapulted herself towards me with eyes shining and said "Mommy, Mommy, I got a popsicle! They brought me a popsicle with everyone else! And it was my favorite flavor! It was soooo good!"
She went on to tell about the popsicle party, but what stood out in the story was how safe, and included she felt. That's when my eyes welled up with tears. I hugged her tight.
She's a good kid, and she's good about dealing with her allergies. But it's hard to be different, and she vents that at home sometimes. Earlier this week she was pleasantly surprised to find a safe sorbet on the 5th grade ice cream table, and her girl scout leader thoughtfully provided safe treats for the last meeting of the year. But it was this last touch, a popsicle that looked like everyone else's and was provided with everyone else's without much ado that really made her day.
Things are changing. Yay!!!!
Yesterday brought Penguin's elementary school years to a close. Of course there were tears. (I was a bit surprised, even a few boys were hauling tissues around.) But what touched me most wasn't the slideshow, or the farewell song, or the little "graduation ceremony".
Yesterday morning a PTA mom approached me with a box of popsicles and asked me to double check it. They were, indeed, free from artficial dyes, dairy and gluten. She was happy and went to give Penguin her treat (which made me happy, of course) and after school, Penguin catapulted herself towards me with eyes shining and said "Mommy, Mommy, I got a popsicle! They brought me a popsicle with everyone else! And it was my favorite flavor! It was soooo good!"
She went on to tell about the popsicle party, but what stood out in the story was how safe, and included she felt. That's when my eyes welled up with tears. I hugged her tight.
She's a good kid, and she's good about dealing with her allergies. But it's hard to be different, and she vents that at home sometimes. Earlier this week she was pleasantly surprised to find a safe sorbet on the 5th grade ice cream table, and her girl scout leader thoughtfully provided safe treats for the last meeting of the year. But it was this last touch, a popsicle that looked like everyone else's and was provided with everyone else's without much ado that really made her day.
Things are changing. Yay!!!!
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
That Mom
I always dreamed of being "That Mom". The one who was on the ball, all together, the one who was there for everything.
The one who was the back up, fall upon mom.
The one with cookies, or brownies, or muffins fresh from the oven.
And then reality struck. When I did volunteer, I ended up ditching them for the ER or a doctors visit. I find myself running late half the time for digestive issues, and I'm always ready to run when my stomach informs me of it's disinclination towards my last meal. (Please note that food allergies/intolerances are not the only thing I struggle with personally, there are definitely MORE digestive conditions going on than simple allergies. People with allergies feel fine when they eat safe food.)
Discovering food allergies allows us a certain freedom. It's certainly much less of a struggle when there are days when I know what good is. It's amazing to see my daughter blossom now that offending foods are out of her diet, it feels so refreshing to be able to send her to a friend's house and know that there's only a slight chance she'll come home sick. As long as I send food, of course.
But the darker side of food allergies (and other health conditions) brought a heightened awareness of what we, as a society, are eating. Reading ingredient list after ingredient list, and having to shake my head at Penguin time and time again sends chills down my spine. If it weren't for the allergies I wouldn't really think about these additives and preservatives. I've always tended towards "healthy" foods, but, when it came to "fun", well...fun is fun. I didn't worry about it, too much.
Now, I see party after party at the school and it just doesn't settle right with me. I see hundreds of pounds of sugar coursing through those tiny developing veins, and then the questionable additives, the Genetically Modified Organisms, and the bright neon colors that stain tongues, teeth and fingers. I feel sad, not because we're left out, but because society has placed a value on food. And that value is in the sharing of what we all agree is junk. Superfluous candy, cupcakes and ice cream complete our lives.
No wonder there's a tendency towards obesity, heart disease and type 2 diabetes.
As I look at the list of class parties for the next week, and shudder at the amount of kitchen duty (and cash) it means for us, as I smile under the questioning look of other mothers and field questions about our diets, as I am accidentally cc'd in the mass brownie e-mail, I discover something else.
I've become "THAT mom". Not the one I wanted to be, for sure, but certainly distinct. I'm the seventies era granola, free love, tree hugging hippy food tofu mom. (Except for the tofu part...there's corn in that, too.) People who haven't tried our treats assume them to be the tasteless grapenut-concoction from after-school special nightmares sequences. They shudder and truly feel sorry for our pizza deprived, ice cream deficient home. I'm "That Mom". (The one you don't want in charge of snacks for the brownies meeting.)
And I'm proud of it. (Well, all except the part about Brownies.)
The one who was the back up, fall upon mom.
The one with cookies, or brownies, or muffins fresh from the oven.
And then reality struck. When I did volunteer, I ended up ditching them for the ER or a doctors visit. I find myself running late half the time for digestive issues, and I'm always ready to run when my stomach informs me of it's disinclination towards my last meal. (Please note that food allergies/intolerances are not the only thing I struggle with personally, there are definitely MORE digestive conditions going on than simple allergies. People with allergies feel fine when they eat safe food.)
Discovering food allergies allows us a certain freedom. It's certainly much less of a struggle when there are days when I know what good is. It's amazing to see my daughter blossom now that offending foods are out of her diet, it feels so refreshing to be able to send her to a friend's house and know that there's only a slight chance she'll come home sick. As long as I send food, of course.
But the darker side of food allergies (and other health conditions) brought a heightened awareness of what we, as a society, are eating. Reading ingredient list after ingredient list, and having to shake my head at Penguin time and time again sends chills down my spine. If it weren't for the allergies I wouldn't really think about these additives and preservatives. I've always tended towards "healthy" foods, but, when it came to "fun", well...fun is fun. I didn't worry about it, too much.
Now, I see party after party at the school and it just doesn't settle right with me. I see hundreds of pounds of sugar coursing through those tiny developing veins, and then the questionable additives, the Genetically Modified Organisms, and the bright neon colors that stain tongues, teeth and fingers. I feel sad, not because we're left out, but because society has placed a value on food. And that value is in the sharing of what we all agree is junk. Superfluous candy, cupcakes and ice cream complete our lives.
No wonder there's a tendency towards obesity, heart disease and type 2 diabetes.
As I look at the list of class parties for the next week, and shudder at the amount of kitchen duty (and cash) it means for us, as I smile under the questioning look of other mothers and field questions about our diets, as I am accidentally cc'd in the mass brownie e-mail, I discover something else.
I've become "THAT mom". Not the one I wanted to be, for sure, but certainly distinct. I'm the seventies era granola, free love, tree hugging hippy food tofu mom. (Except for the tofu part...there's corn in that, too.) People who haven't tried our treats assume them to be the tasteless grapenut-concoction from after-school special nightmares sequences. They shudder and truly feel sorry for our pizza deprived, ice cream deficient home. I'm "That Mom". (The one you don't want in charge of snacks for the brownies meeting.)
And I'm proud of it. (Well, all except the part about Brownies.)
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Skinny
I'm skinny. I'm slender, thin, twiggy, emaciated.
Other women seem to think the best way to "bond" is to walk up and chat up diet and excercize, to say things like "Oh, I hate women like you. You have so much self control."
Ha. Talk to my husband, who is almost horrified by the amount of chocolate and sweet potatoes I can consume (not together).
And I hate that the corn allergy thing is lumped with my figure. No, I'm not anorexic because there's nothing left to eat. The corn may have played a significant part in causing intestinal damage that prevents me from gaining weight well, the celiac certainly did. But there are foods that I should be able to eat. If it were a matter of allergy, I'd function within the confines of my diet. Corn allergy (etc) certainly complicates things, but there's more. And no one seems to know what it is.
Even more, I worry about raising two girls in a society that places deep value in calorie counts, pounds, and the size on a clothing tag.
People tell me they're so busy between work and parenting they can't find time to "lose weight". People with perfectly acceptable, natural, healthy looking curves tell me this. And I can't find the words to say I wish I had the energy to be that busy.
Other women seem to think the best way to "bond" is to walk up and chat up diet and excercize, to say things like "Oh, I hate women like you. You have so much self control."
Ha. Talk to my husband, who is almost horrified by the amount of chocolate and sweet potatoes I can consume (not together).
And I hate that the corn allergy thing is lumped with my figure. No, I'm not anorexic because there's nothing left to eat. The corn may have played a significant part in causing intestinal damage that prevents me from gaining weight well, the celiac certainly did. But there are foods that I should be able to eat. If it were a matter of allergy, I'd function within the confines of my diet. Corn allergy (etc) certainly complicates things, but there's more. And no one seems to know what it is.
Even more, I worry about raising two girls in a society that places deep value in calorie counts, pounds, and the size on a clothing tag.
People tell me they're so busy between work and parenting they can't find time to "lose weight". People with perfectly acceptable, natural, healthy looking curves tell me this. And I can't find the words to say I wish I had the energy to be that busy.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Happy Mother's Day
My mother's day weekend didn't get off to much of a start.
Yesterday morning the kids woke me with a battle about whether or not I should open gifts on Saturday. There was a lot of high pitched screaming as one or the other attempted to protect their secrets from being spilled, thankfully it was resolved before I decided to simply call off the entire holiday.
Then came the news that a beloved childhood pet passed on late Friday night.
We agreed to stay in and mope.
However, this morning managed to pull into a lovely start. My oldest fondly recalls making soap together when she was little, and dh found someone to help her make (hopefully) safe soap for me. My youngest made a lovely coupon book, and instead of filling it with things like "good for one night free from washing dishes" she filled it with wishes that make me grin. I thought I'd share a few here. :-)
*I love my Mother. There's (almost) no one who loves you more than me.
*I'll clean the Earth for you.
* I wish you would lose all your allergies. [This one made me cry]
*I wish I could plant flowers for you and make them grow overnight.
I'll treasure it always.
Yesterday morning the kids woke me with a battle about whether or not I should open gifts on Saturday. There was a lot of high pitched screaming as one or the other attempted to protect their secrets from being spilled, thankfully it was resolved before I decided to simply call off the entire holiday.
Then came the news that a beloved childhood pet passed on late Friday night.
We agreed to stay in and mope.
However, this morning managed to pull into a lovely start. My oldest fondly recalls making soap together when she was little, and dh found someone to help her make (hopefully) safe soap for me. My youngest made a lovely coupon book, and instead of filling it with things like "good for one night free from washing dishes" she filled it with wishes that make me grin. I thought I'd share a few here. :-)
*I love my Mother. There's (almost) no one who loves you more than me.
*I'll clean the Earth for you.
* I wish you would lose all your allergies. [This one made me cry]
*I wish I could plant flowers for you and make them grow overnight.
I'll treasure it always.
Friday, May 01, 2009
The Swine Flu
I'm not panicking.
Maybe there's something wrong with me?
The schools have repeatedly reassured me that there's no reason to panic. My Mother in law sent an email to my husband letting him know it was nothing to be too concerned about yet.
And all I can think is...well, obviously.
So far, the biggest concern is that the CDC doesn't "know" everything they want to know about the "new flu". It's breaking out in May, which is new as far as I can remember (Spring and summer are the end of the illness routine. Everyone tells me that when the kids invariably come down with something this time of year.) The vast majority of people who are sick have recovered without the use of antiviral drugs.
As far as I can see, it's just the flu; taking a different path than the one predicted by scientists.
Now, I don't mean to be callous. I hate being sick as much as the next guy. I'll whine, maybe not quite as loudly as my husband, but I'll certainly commiserate. But the recommendations are...wash hands frequently. Don't come to work or school when you're running a fever. And cough into your sleeve.
Isn't that normal? Its always been my pet peeve that people drag themselves to work or school with fevers and sit there hacking up a lung. It's rude, and dangerous to those with compromised immune systems. And it doesn't matter if we know what the virus (or bacteria) is or not, if the wrong person contracts it, that illness can be fatal.
I'm much more concerned about food allergies. Which are rising steadily, or were at the last time they were studied, at a rate of about 20% a year. And food allergy mortality is unknown because the CDC does not consider it a reportable event. The figure appears to fall between 1 and 200 confirmed deaths a year (with a suspected 50% of cases being misdiagnosed)
If your throat swells shut because you swallow some soy lecithin, the CDC could care less. (Especially since doctors repeatedly tell us that lecithin has NO protein left and therefore will not cause anaphylaxis despite occasional evidence to the contrary. Note that I'm carefully avoiding the subject of corn.) But, report some body aches with a fever over 100* caused by an unusual strain of influenza (which seems to pass quickly albeit uncomfortably) and they will call a national emergency.
Wonder how many petrochemicals are in the recommended treatment? Rehydration therapies are generally loaded with colorful ingredients and flavorings; at least the pediatric versions. And from the rainbow of meds I've seen on store shelves while seeking safe pain killers, I'd bet any drugs they offer are just as colorful.
Maybe there's something wrong with me?
The schools have repeatedly reassured me that there's no reason to panic. My Mother in law sent an email to my husband letting him know it was nothing to be too concerned about yet.
And all I can think is...well, obviously.
So far, the biggest concern is that the CDC doesn't "know" everything they want to know about the "new flu". It's breaking out in May, which is new as far as I can remember (Spring and summer are the end of the illness routine. Everyone tells me that when the kids invariably come down with something this time of year.) The vast majority of people who are sick have recovered without the use of antiviral drugs.
As far as I can see, it's just the flu; taking a different path than the one predicted by scientists.
Now, I don't mean to be callous. I hate being sick as much as the next guy. I'll whine, maybe not quite as loudly as my husband, but I'll certainly commiserate. But the recommendations are...wash hands frequently. Don't come to work or school when you're running a fever. And cough into your sleeve.
Isn't that normal? Its always been my pet peeve that people drag themselves to work or school with fevers and sit there hacking up a lung. It's rude, and dangerous to those with compromised immune systems. And it doesn't matter if we know what the virus (or bacteria) is or not, if the wrong person contracts it, that illness can be fatal.
I'm much more concerned about food allergies. Which are rising steadily, or were at the last time they were studied, at a rate of about 20% a year. And food allergy mortality is unknown because the CDC does not consider it a reportable event. The figure appears to fall between 1 and 200 confirmed deaths a year (with a suspected 50% of cases being misdiagnosed)
If your throat swells shut because you swallow some soy lecithin, the CDC could care less. (Especially since doctors repeatedly tell us that lecithin has NO protein left and therefore will not cause anaphylaxis despite occasional evidence to the contrary. Note that I'm carefully avoiding the subject of corn.) But, report some body aches with a fever over 100* caused by an unusual strain of influenza (which seems to pass quickly albeit uncomfortably) and they will call a national emergency.
Wonder how many petrochemicals are in the recommended treatment? Rehydration therapies are generally loaded with colorful ingredients and flavorings; at least the pediatric versions. And from the rainbow of meds I've seen on store shelves while seeking safe pain killers, I'd bet any drugs they offer are just as colorful.
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