The Food Rules

I realized the other day, as I was explaining to Woodstock why we weren't going to buy grapes at the grocery store even though they had a yellow sign (she has figured out I buy mostly things with yellow signs - signifying they are on sale), that I have an un-written list of "rules" when it comes to food.

Well, formerly un-written, since I'm about to list some of them here. Some of them are goofy. Others are based on health and research. Some are because I have to compensate for the ridiculous amount of junky food my kids get at the sitter's. Some have been long-standing. Others came as a result of playing primary food source to one kid or another for 4 straight years.

The Food Rules According to Sara

1. If a food comes in a package, it should have 5 ingredients or less.
2. Produce is consumed primarily in season. The exception to this is apples, potatoes, onions, carrots and some herbs. In the case of fruit, this means grapes in late summer, citrus and fruites I've preserved in the winter, pomegranets and cranberries in the fall, peaches in August, apricots in July, cherries in June, Strawberries in March through May, Mangoes in the spring and so forth.
3. Tomatoes come out of the garden in the summer and out of cans in the winter.
4. Cereal whose first, second or third ingredient is sugar is not to be used as a meal.
5. Dairy must be hormone-free.
6. Artificial sweeteners do not enter the house (this does indeed mean I have shaken a years-long Crystal Light addiction - I haven't had a single glass in 4 years.
7. If it can be homeade, I don't need to buy it.
8. If it is local, it is worth a little bit more.
9. If it is chocolate, it had better be good chocolate, not the cheap stuff - after years of thinking I didn't like chocolate, I have realized that a. I love dark chocolate and b. it had beter be GOOD chocolate - preferably European.
10. A well-stocked pantry is the cure for high grocery bills.
11. Roasting makes almost everything better.
12. If the word "artificial" is on the package, it is reserved for treat status. If the ingredient is wholly unpronouncable and/or undecipherable, it is better left on the grocery shelf.
13. Whole wheat pasta, brown rice and regular oatmeal are not foreign foods if one doesn't know any different (ie my kids, poor little ones who have been brainwashed for years now).
14. Fruit or veggie for breakfast. Fruit AND veggie (or two) for lunch. Two veggies for dinner. My meal-planning mantra - though it sometimes means the second dinner veggie is used to "enrich" the meal (like adding pureed cauliflower to mac-n-cheese.
15. Water is vital and is therefore not optional
16. If I'm going to consume the calories, it is going to be fabulous and make my mind, tongue and tummy happy - if not, it's not worth the caloric or monetary cost.
17. (The most important one) One can never have too many cookbooks - even when one's three-shelf kitchen bookcase is completely full of them

There are a lot of other random rules, I think I create them to create order in my life. I get mocked for them or praised for them or derided for them. I had someone tell me I was harming my kids' digestive systems by feeding them whole wheat. I am told I'm a leftist tree-hugging vegan wanna-be for shopping at certain stores and limiting meat in our diets. And yet - it works for me. All these rules and all these things that govern what I eat. They are unspoken. They are mine. They are not everyone's.

But I will say - while Himself likes to mock them, he definitely enjoys what results. I'm a half-decent cook and he gets a hot breakfast and a homemade dinner a minimum of 5-6 days a week.

Some may mock, but no one has ever left my house hungry.

March Madness - of the non-NCAA kind

I typically don't mind March all that month - Daylight savings time resumes (which I love, after the first week of prying my eyelids open at an hour the week before would seem unearthly). The snow continues to fall, but it typically melts quickly - and to be honest, I prefer the sogginess of March to the bitter chill of January. The tulips start sprouting and the whole world waits on the bring of spring. And it means NCAA basketball playoffs - which means spending 3 weeks hoping Duke gets knocked off in the first couple of rounds.

Speaking of spring, Woodstock overheard that last Sunday was the first day of Spring. She was overjoyed - I had told her the flip flops and her new spring Dora pjs could not come out until Spring. She raced in to tell me. Of course, that morning we had woken up to snow. I made her look out the window. "See that?" I asked. "That is snow." Woodstock looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. "That," I said, "means that someone forgot to inform Mother Nature that the calendar says it is spring. Until Mother Nature knows it is spring, no flip flops and no Dora spring pjs." Woodstock sighed and remarked, "then why did they say it was spring already?"

Good observation.

This year? The Irish can keep their month o' luck (disclaimer - I'm 1/8 Irish). It has been one of those months where Murphy and his Law keep things hopping.

Let's put it this way: On March 1, we had used $0 of our $1,000 family medical deductible. As of March 25, we have now used (ie paid for) the entire thing. Plus another $500+ in co-insurance.

Pebbles was diagnosed with chronic fluid on her ears after 2 months of back-to-back ear infections (following a 3-month stint in 2010 with back-to-back ear infections) and needed tubes yesterday. It was a blessedly simple, fast ordeal - unlike anything that involves me and anesthesia.

I needed two very expensive tests that failed to result in any diagnosis for my 3 months of stomach pain other than "functional dyspepsia" which is a fancy word for saying upset stomach. Which is another way of saying, "Sure your stomach hurts, but short of throwing every drug on the market at you, we can't help." And no, it isn't ulcers, celiac, pancreatitis, fatty liver flare up, etc. And I don't have a gallbladder or an appendix, so those are out too. It's also not stomach, pancreatic or liver cancer - all of which weighed heavily for awhile.

The washing machine needed a new part, with labor that cost as much as the part. The car needs (still needs, reference the money shelled out for the deductible above) new tires. The Corporation made huge profits, touted them on the quarterly call, then dished out a pittance in compensation for 2011 because while I'm doing two people's jobs I wasn't eligible for a formal bonus since I hadn't been employed a full year.

The list goes on, but I don't want to list it anymore than anyone wants to read it. Suffice it to say - I'm ready to be in a new month.

The good thing is that we're all healthy - or mostly. On paper I am healthy. In reality, I don't feel healthy, but I'm tired of shelling out a ton of money for nothing. We have a home and food and vehicles that run. We have jobs and medical insurance and a washing machine. We have family and friends and have a better standard of living than 90% of the global population. We have faith and hope and a knowledge that it really only does get better.

I can't complain. I can, however, celebrate that April is right around the corner.

A Promise to My Girls

I am keenly aware, every day, that I am raising daughters. I am also keenly aware that being a girl/woman is incredibly tough sometimes when it comes to our bodies. I also know that while I'd love to shelter my kids entirely from that horrible self-criticism that comes with being a woman, it is neither possible nor healthy.

Instead, I offer up this promise to them - in public - so I have accountability:

• I promise that I won't do anything with/to my body that I will ask you not to do. I won't starve myself to lose 10 pounds for a big event. I won't be reckless with my health in pursuit of a body looks as if it has been artificially re-touched, airbrushed, surgically altered, and then roasted.
• I promise I won't criticize my body in front of you. I will strive to not do it at all. I will strive to be healthy, to be active and to develop and maintain healthy habits.
• I promise I won't criticize your bodies.
  
• I promise to do my best to teach you good nutrition, health and lifestyle habits that will hopefully make it easier to feel confident.
• I promise to love you, and to do everything in my power to help you love yourself.
• I promise to love me - to strive to understand and emulate, my place as a daughter of God, created in His image.
• I promise to age gracefully and to act my age. I promise to not spend my time and life obsessing over stopping time and dressing or acting like I'm 20. Even now - I'm too old for that already.
• I promise not to sit on the side of the swimming pool in street clothes because I don't look like Tyra Banks in a bathing suit. I promise to get in and enjoy the water with you.
  
• I promise to spend more time living and planning than I do ruminating over something that is no more than an illusory physical ideal.
  
• I promise to enjoy life.

Additionally, I promise to live and teach you to live the following:

• Life is an exercise in discipline, knowledge and love.
• We are daughters of God - part of a greater plan and have infinite worth. We have a purpose, a mission and have the power, intellect and capability to make good choices and make a difference in the world in which we live.
  
• Quality is always better than quantity when it comes to food (and most other things).
  
• Healthy does not equal boring. Healthy means balance, discipline and satisfaction.
• Being active is a part of having a vibrant life. It is not a punishment - self-imposed or otherwise.
• There are many times that there will be someone prettier, taller, thinner, more fit, more bronzed, less wrinkly, better dressed than you and me. Realizing that and accepting it is half the battle. There will people that look at you and think the same thing. It is all relative.
  
• How you dress matters. It conveys a lot about you on the inside. It is a powerful declaration of respect for one's self and one's environment. Confidence and self-respect and situationally appropriate clothing go a long way in getting others to respect you for you who are.
  
• Dress, speak and act with purpose - as you wish to be perceived.
• Bad days are to be expected. Bloating, bad skin, exhaustion, life changes, wrinkles, sags, lines, marks and the like are to be expected as well. Strive to live happy, live healthy and live active - and embrace the person that emerges.
  
• Be aware of those around you who may not see themselves as you see them - and be gentle. Being a girl/woman is tough.
  
• Live with purpose.

It's a tall order - I'd do well to review it more often. I've been overweight (I weighed more in college than I did 9 months pregnant with either kid). I have chronically awful skin. I had enormous feet until I grew into them. I was the tallest kid in my class for years (only to end up just slightly taller than average). My stomach, post children, is no longer flat. My skin bears the tattoos of motherhood - wrinkles and dark circles and stretch marks and a few dings and bruises from stumbling over a toy on my way to save a child from a nightmare at 3 a.m. My hair isn't straight or curly and will never be wash and go. My hands have horrible eczema and my knuckles are swollen. I bloat. I cannot pull of trendy even when I want to. I've complained and wailed and gnashed my teeth - and I've realized that I have two choices: I can live with discipline and purpose and joy, or I can spend my life (and money) pursuing the fountain of youth and cover girls at the end of the rainbow. I can strive to be healthy and dress appropriately and live or I can hide in a closet and wait until there really is a fountain of youth - letting life pass me by.

Kids are smart - and perceptive - they model their lives after those with whom they are in close proximity. Every day, through my actions, I teach my girls how they should behave, live, view themselves - either consciously or sub-consciously. Having them has made me more cognizant of who I am - as a woman, a daughter of God, a wife and a mother.  It has made me readjust my priorities and realize what is important and what isn't.

It has also made me deeply grateful for my mother - who taught me about exercise and food and cooking and health. And showed me, more often than not, that life is about more than the size of your jeans.

I never want my girls to see someone they don't love staring back at them in the mirror. I can't prevent that from happening, but I can help them navigate that rocky path with grace and confidence and an understanding of who they are.

I promise.

Yes, I'm one of THOSE people ... maybe

I hate the war that vaccinations have become.

They are good. Really, really good.

But there are times when they aren't as good as they are supposed to be. And that is when I really get the "other side" that opts to take their chances.

Like 3 months ago, when Pebbles had a severe reaction to her DTP booster. It took a full month until her leg looked normal and she was back to normal behavior.

It scared the living daylights out of me.

It was recommended that we report the reaction to the CDC - so when I went to the first of many follow-up visits, I mentioned it to Dr. Grumps (not his real name) - the partner of our regular pediatrician, who is very competent, but has very a patriarchal, authoritarian bedside manner which makes me hate having to schedule an appointment when he's the one open. Dr. Grumps dismissed it. "Sometimes we over-react and assume it is the vaccine and it isn't," he said. And then he pumped Pebbles full of antibiotics - sure. Over reaction.

Day 1. Vaccine. Totally fine kiddo.
Day 2. Morning. Totally fine kiddo. Small red spot.
Day 2. Afternoon. NOT AT ALL FINE kiddo. Enormous (her whole thigh) red/purply/rashy looking thing all over her leg. Her leg is 3 times its normal size. She's cranky. Low fever. Leg is burning hot. She won't let anyone touch it.

Weeks later, after massive antibiotics (the follow-up one causing nausea/diarrhea for several days), her leg still looked abnormal, she was still cranky, she still wasn't sleeping. She still wasn't the same child "before". The doctor still insisted it wasn't CDC-worthy because it was so rare. So rare, because no one ever reports anything?

I began researching - turns out it IS uncommon according to the CDC. It is NOT as uncommon as they think, however, based on the number of parents sharing pictures and reaciton stories about the DPT vaccine. Pictures that looked just like Pebbles' leg.

Yesterday was Pebbles' 18-month well baby checkup. I skipped the vaccines. Call me a horrible mother. Call me un-informed or ill-informed or paranoid or "one of those people".

Or call me terrified and cautious. She'll get the vaccines. Just slowly. One vaccine at a time. And not while she's still battling another ear infection.

I am dealing with my own medical issues at the moment. I just cannot have another "well baby" turn into "month-long-sick-baby". Yes, I know it means she could contract the disease of the vaccine I skipped. But right now, the risk of reaction is far more prominent in my mind than the risk of delaying it slightly.

Call me one of those mothers. I'll understand. Hopefully you do too, because I'm already lumped in the "oddity" bucket a lot lately.

(p.s. I should note, Woodstock got her chicken pox shot for pre-school two weeks ago - so it's not like I've abandoned the vaccine wagon all together. Just delayed it a little more than I normally do).

UNCLE! I want a do-over

As payback for waiting until every piece of laundry in the house was dirty (or nearly so), the washer started making odd noises on Saturday. Sloshing noises. My washer is normally very quiet (a requirement for me - I don't like the noises appliances make). Sloshing noises aren't good. Ever. Particularly when there is still heaping piles of dress clothes and sheets left to wash.

I went to investigate. Damp floor. Not such a huge deal. It's concrete, and there is a drain. Plus, someone had knocked over the stain remover - I assumed the bottle leaked.

Until I opened the washer.

Turns out sloshing is REALLY REALLY bad. The rubber gasket that keeps the water IN the washing drum (front-loader) was torn. Badly. Too badly to repair with innertube goop (suggested on a fix-it-yourself appliance blog).

Cost for part: $120
Cost for labor: Far more than that
Piles of laundry NOW in existence: 5 - apparently lack of a washing machine does not decrease the fertility of laundry piles (in case you were wondering)
STRIKE 1.

Himself took my car in for regular service, and we received the official death notice on two of my tires. I knew it was coming. I'd planned to shell out way too much money in March for new ones. Still, it didn't exactly give me warm fuzzies to have it confirmed.

Cost for two new tires: $300+
Number of minutes contemplating our overly priced public transit system: None (sadly)
STRIKE 2.

The final nail in my fabulous (insert sarcastic googly eyes here) week came today, when I received a call from the billing department of the hospital that will be administering my abdominal CT scan Friday. The woman chirpily asked if she could put me down for forking over my $500 deductible on Friday.

Um ... excuse me? I said, "Um, no."

Taken aback (really? does she get equally chirpy "sure, no problem" answers usually?!), she said, "Okay, we'll put you down for $200 up front then."

Whatever.

Out-of-Pocket Cost for Abdominal CT scan that could deliver very bad news, but will more likely deliver no news at all: $600
Out-of-Pocket Cost for Abdominal CT scan almost 6 years ago prior to my appendectomy: $50. I miss my old insurance plan.
STRIKE 3

Oh yes. And Woodstock drank the bubbles she was blowing today, necessitating a call to Poison Control. The Poison Control lady laughed and said, "Oh if I could count the number of times that has happened ..." It made me feel better at least - particularly when she informed me Woodstock would be just fine.

UNCLE. I'm done.