Wordless Wednesday

Milk Money

My first choice in my summer project that I began learning more about was which milk to buy. There are so many choices today – “regular”, organic, hormone free. I discovered for milk to be labeled as organic, it must meet four requirements: • No Bovine Growth Hormone (rBGH) is used in the cows • No antibiotics are given to the cows while they are producing milk for production • The food the cows eat is grown without the use of pesticides • The cows have “access to pasture.” At first glance, these all sound like things I would want. But on further reading, I discovered marketing has made me think these are all things I want, while science disagrees. The rBGH, or growth hormone, is used to increase the milk production in cows by 10 – 15%. Its use was approved by the FDA in 1993. The concern is that when the growth hormone is used in cows, there is a higher level of insulin-like growth factor (IGF-1) found in the cows. IGF-1 has been linked to more rapid growth of some kinds of cancer cells and tumors. Scientific research has found that there are no higher levels of IGF-1 in people that drink a lot of cow’s milk produced with rBGH than in people who drink a lot of soy milk. The FDA estimated the “worst case scenario” for rBGH and IGF-1 absorption in humans from milk and found the IGF-1 increase would be about 1% of what we naturally produce. Basically, negligible. I did discover that the use of rBGH is not as safe for cows, as it is for us, though. The use of rBGH leads to more infections in cows. Hence, the next requirement for organic milk – it must be antibiotic free. I learned that in “regular” milk, when cows have to be treated with antibiotics, they are taken out of production until a set period of time has elapsed after their milk tests negative for any trace of antibiotic. In organic milk, the cows are still treated with antibiotics if needed, but the cow is taken out of production for a minimum of 12 months. Either way, milk with traces of antibiotics is not sold for human consumption. The third requirement is that cows be fed food not treated with pesticides. USDA studies have found that nonorganic milk can have trace amounts of pesticides in it, but the amounts are far below accepted levels. I talked with someone that used to farm about pesticide use. She felt that the use of “heavy pesticides” was unhealthy, but a certain amount of pesticide use was necessary to produce a sustainable crop. The final requirement is that cows have “access to pasture,” which basically means grazing time. However, the amount of time is not defined. A cow can have a half hour of grazing time a day and meet this requirement. Unless more clearly defined, this requirement is meaningless. After reading all of this, I concluded that organic milk was no healthier than regular milk. However, I did have concerns about farming practices. So I did some more reading. I found that while hormone use in cows does lead to more infections, it ultimately leads to better conditions for the cows. When farmers can get more milk out of each cow, they can make more money. With more money, they can afford better living conditions and better health care for the cows. The milk producers make more money off charging more for hormone-free milk, but this increased profit is not passed down to the dairy farmers. As far as pesticide use, I think it is a “necessary evil.” Is it ideal for our health? No. Is it ideal for the environment? No. Do we have to use them to get an adequate crop to sustain farms and make produce, meat, and dairy affordable for everyone? Yes. So I’m choosing to continue buying “regular” milk. However, Americans drink more milk than any other industrialized nation. So when the boys get a little older, we might cut back on how much milk we drink. Less milk means less worry about increased IGF-1 levels and ingesting pesticides from milk.

My Summer Project

Since I don’t have enough to do (haha) I’ve decided to start a summer project. My project is to learn more about what my family eats and make more informed, and hopefully better, choices. I’ve been saying for awhile now that the food Americans eat is killing us. Literally. Obesity, especially in children, is dramatically increasing. Cancer is more prevalent. And it seems, as a nation, we all just don’t feel quite as good as we should. When watching TV in the evening, it seems every other commercial is aimed at fixing some health issue. I acknowledge that modern technology and biological advances are saving lives. But I also acknowledge that some of those advances are harming lives while making money and/or providing convenience. So watch the blog for updates on what I’m learning and the choices we’re making.

Techno Junkie

I am officially addicted to my technological devices. Today, my cell phone completely died in the middle of a phone call. I did the thing everyone does when a call drops - "Hello? Can you hear me? How about now?" Then I looked down at the screen and it was blinking at me and getting snowier and snowier with each blink. Then it just quit. At that point, I started to freak out. I took the battery out and put it back in, thinking maybe it just needed a hard reset. More blinking, snowy screen. Then I really freaked out. All my contact numbers are stored in that phone. Pictures of my kids are stored in that phone. My phone is my link to the outside world. I talk, text, e-mail, surf, and status-update from that phone. So I was the crazy person that dropped everything and ran to the Verizon store. A new phone is being overnighted to me as I type. The salesgirl told me how to try to get my info out, which worked. Apparently it was a fried battery was the problem (which a new battery, strangely, costs more than a new phone). Even in the midst of my freak out, I knew it was ridiculous to be freaking out. But I have officially become a "techie girl." Just this weekend I was in the car swearing (under my breath so Jack wouldn't hear) because the map enclosed in a party invite didn't show that the road ended and picked back up again on the other side of the highway. I frantically started entering the address into the TomTom and breathed a sigh of relief when the pleasant voice started telling me where to turn. Somehow in the last year or so at work I have become the "go to" person for all things technical - webcasts, computer based learning, etc. Even my title changed to "Learning and Technology Consultant" (long and pretentious, I know - not my choice). So I'm embracing it. I'm accepting that I would rather be on the computer than watch tv. I'm giving in to the fact that I covet new tech toys like the iPad and the Nook. And I'm counting down the hours until my new phone arrives - with all the latest technology!

John Ball Park Zoo

We love our membership to the zoo! The John Ball Park Zoo is the perfect size for our family - large enough to see some good stuff, but small enough to not overwhelm or exhaust the kids. Today was the fourth time we have been and Jack has loved it every time. Even Brett seemed to really enjoy it today. It is close enough that we can decide "spur of the moment" to go there, and our membership makes it a really inexpensive way to spend a day. Today we packed a picnic lunch so got away with simply buying a snack later in the afternoon and a couple toys on the way out (darn souvenir carts!). Here's some pictures from our day today...

It Takes a Village

An old proverb states that "It takes a village to raise a child." I have always believed this proverb, in theory. However, I had come to believe the days of "a village" raising a child were sadly gone. Nowadays people are afraid to scold someone else's child or offer unsolicited advice because they may be crossing over some unseen boundary line. I thought the days of your neighbor yelling out her window at your child to get out of the road and onto the sidewalk were just reserved for reruns of "Leave It to Beaver." I thought we had all become a little too isolated and a little too cautious and a little too, well, a lot of things. For many reasons, I secretly wish I lived back in the 1950's when kids all played together in the neighborhood and every parent watched out for every kid and was not afraid to scold when necessary and hug when needed. I had thought this picture of a community caring for children was just a dream of a simpler time. I was wrong. When I was on maternity leave I was lucky to get the chance to spend more time with my sister, who is an at-home mom. She invited me to play group each week, book club each month, and play dates at McDonald's when the kids needed to run around on rainy days. I got to meet my sister's group of "mom friends." I have come to realize I am truly blessed to have my sister and this group of moms. I had a lot of fun while on leave with this group, but it was once I headed back to work that I realized how fortunate I really am. I asked my sister if she could pick Jack up from daycare and take him to play group so he could continue to enjoy the new friends and the activities. She graciously said sure. Then our friend Rachel offered to pick Jack up for book club or for play group if my sister couldn't make it. Then when the group started going to the park after play group when the weather got nice, they all wished Jack could go too, and Senice offered to take him to the park and then back to daycare. We've all joked that no one knows who is in charge of watching Jack at all these events. (We've also joked that Jack will ride with any one that has a snack for him!) But the jokes aside, I know everyone is watching him. I also know everyone is helping to raise him, whether by giving him a needed time out, or a hug, or a lap to sit on, or a million other moments that help to make him who he will become. This is my village and I am so grateful to have found it.

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday (Almost)

So this first post is not wordless, but only because I am introducing it. I am stealing this idea from my sister's blog. Look for more "wordless" posts each week!

Binket

I'm sure the picture above looks odd to most people. It is Jack's "binket." Jack's blanket has always been called his "binket" at our house. The name comes from the Sandra Boynton book, "Dinosaur's Binket" about a little dinosaur that cannot go to bed until he finds his blanket, or as he calls it, his binket. So why do I have a picture of Jack's binket laying on the floor posted on the blog? Because Jack told me a couple weeks ago that he was too big for a binket now. I thought he was just saying it. But since he told me that, he has only taken a binket to daycare maybe once and has stopped caring if he has his binket at nap time and bedtime. The only time he takes it to bed is if I bring it up. Hence, why the binket is just laying on the floor. I am far more upset about this than anyone else in my house (or the world, I'm sure). The fact that Jack no longer needs his binket reminds me that he is growing up. It is another reminder to me that you never know when the "last" of something is going to be with your kids. I remember realizing a few weeks after Brett was born that Jack was never going to fall asleep on my lap in the rocking chair while I read him a Dr. Suess story for nap again. We still rock and we still read stories, but now he stays awake and gets in bed and falls asleep. It makes me sad though that I will never see his eyes slowly drift shut while I read the rhyming words of Suess. It also makes me sad that I never realized in those weeks before Jack gave this up how close I was to the end of that phase. It is another reminder to me to live in the moment and soak up all those moments I love. I need those reminders because the day-to-day so often eats up those moments and allows them to pass unnoticed. Like a couple weeks ago when I checked on Jack before going to bed and saw him snuggled up with his binket. Jack may be ready to give up his binket, but I could use a little more time with it.

The Secret Society of Parents

Being a parent makes me often think about my own parents, but now from a completely different perspective. Most days, I can't quite believe that I am a parent to not one, but two children. Somehow I just don't seem old enough, smart enough, mature enough, together enough, and the list goes on (and on, depending on the day). In my mind, I am still a kid, so how can I have two kids of my own? I've often wondered if my own parents felt this way while raising me and my siblings. I also wonder if my own parents had all those "I don't want the kids to see this" moments like I have. For instance, I will sneak an extra cookie (or two) when Jack isn't looking. Were my parents sneaking dessert when I wasn't looking? Or many nights after Jack goes to bed, Troy and I will just laugh at some of the funny things he says and does. Were my siblings and I a source of entertainment for our parents, who were just waiting for us to go to bed so they could bust out laughing? How about the times when I pretend to be completely clueless with Jack, like having no idea how the picture he colored got into the garbage can or what happened to other half of his peanutbutter cup. Were my own parents really never clueless and fooling me all along? Maybe parenthood is like a seret society you are inducted into once you have a child, where all the secrets are revealed. Like parents really don't know everything and have faults (some of us have many!). I guess Jack and Brett will just have to wait to discover where all the cookies went...

Riley

Last week I lost a very dear friend - my cat, Riley. Riley came into my life 14 years ago. He was around 8 weeks old when my college roommate brought him home to my first apartment. She was living at home for the summer and had found him in a box in an alley with his brothers and sisters. I always joked that Riley was not really an alley cat because he was from an alley in Grosse Point. Riley was truly a character and I often said his name was appropriate because he lived the life of Riley. Here are some of my favorite Riley memories followed by some pictures:

• When Riley was a kitten, I was sure I had brought the devil in the form of a cat into my home. He was the most hyper and wound up kitten I had ever seen. He had two speeds - insane and comatose. As much as his wild side drove me crazy, when he got tired he would crawl up to my shoulder and nestle into my hair to fall asleep. As soon as he was snuggled in there his little purr motor would start going. That was the one thing I missed from his "kitten-hood".
• Riley was curious, like most cats, but a few times it landed him in trouble. Like the time he was curious about the toilet and fell in. Or the time he was curious about the drawer in the bathroom and climbed in, only to discover he could not climb back out.
• Riley loved boxes and bags. You could not leave a box or a bag anywhere that he could get to it or he would be inside it. This made unpacking groceries quite a challenge.
• Riley was a sleeper, but he would find the craziest places to sleep. As you can see from many of the pictures, he would climb, crawl, or jump to anywhere he thought would make for a cozy napping spot.
• Riley adored the boys. Both times when I was pregnant he insisted on laying on or at least right up against my baby belly every night. When the boys were born he would sniff them and often lay next to wherever they were. When I would read Jack stories before bed Riley always managed to sneak into the room and sit in there while I put Jack to bed. He was extremely patient with Brett, who loved to pull his ears, tail, and fur every chance he got. Riley just patiently let him do so, and never even got up and moved away.

The day Riley passed away, my brother said something that will stick with me forever. The day had started out sunny, but got cloudy and gray shortly after I got home from the vet's office. My brother said the weather was appropriate, as the world just wasn't quite as bright without Riley in it. Well said. Take care Riley and I'll see you again someday.