Brown Baggin' It - Minus the Brown Bag

A long time ago, almost a whole year ago, though it seems like just yesterday, I was at the park with Oscar's preschool class celebrating his final school day before summer break. A little bring your own lunch had just been consumed. The remnants were being packed up, and folks were heading back over to the equipment for more action oriented entertainment.

But whose lunch was this?

Several of us mothers peered over at the lunch. Not ours. It was just a pile of food with no identifying box.

Then the preschool teacher wandered over to take a look. "Oh, that's Joey's," she said.

I looked at her in amazement. "How do you know?" I asked.

"I can usually tell the owner by the food contents," she answered.

Who knew the preschool teacher was also an archaeologist?

Patterns of behavior. Patterns in brand, packaging, preparation, and contents...

Here is what is often in Oscar's lunch box:

Water
Clementine Orange
Grapes
Strawberries
Raisins
Carrot stick
Celery with cream cheese
Hard-boiled egg
Cheese and crackers
Cottage cheese
Yogurt
Peanuts
Peanut butter crackers
Left-over pizza
Popcorn
Pretzels
Cheerios
Tortilla chips and salsa
Sesame sticks
Graham crackers
Yogurt covered raisins
Cookie for a special treat

Now you might think I am crazy for sharing this information as the school year is winding down, but think again. I am posting this list so I might have something to reference next fall when I peer in the cupboards and wonder how in the world I used to fill up a box with nourishing food for a child to devour away from my supervision.

Wow! It is almost time to celebrate Oscar's graduation from preschool!

THINGS TO DO: Go On A Neighborhood Treasure Hunt

Pack up your treasure hunting accessories and head into the wilds of your neighborhood! With a glorious day like today, it is time for a neighborhood treasure hunt.

What does one bring on a neighborhood treasure hunt? We bring: collection bags, snacks, water, binoculars, wagon transportation, limitless time, and an adventurous spirit.

What does one find on a neighborhood treasure hunt? We find: rocks, pine cones, sticks, bottle tops, coins, paper goods, unidentified objects.

What does one do with their treasures? We have: kept them in safe places, decorated our yard, built collages.


Today we built a fairy house with our treasures. We love the book Fairy Houses by Tracy Kane. Our public library has several books in her fairy series.

I have found that wandering around one's neighborhood pointlessly is so much more enjoyable than walking with direction on a time schedule (like usual). I like to walk down the back alleys
and peer in backyards. Today we found a rabbit community in a area we walk by literally every day on the way to Marek's school - and we've never noticed the rabbits before!


I have always thought a neighborhood treasure hunt day would also be a great time to pick up trash. (I have a hard time getting around the fact that this would be my children picking up others discarded waste, and so we have never added this dimension.)

The Bad Egg

We are walking home from preschool, and out of the sky a perfect bird egg falls into the grass right next to us.

Marek swears a bird dropped it.

Marek stops instantly and picks it up. It is a small, light blue egg, beautiful and unblemished. He holds it in his hands and says, "I'm going to keep the egg warm so the bird will hatch."

I think he is crazy, of course. But our conversation quickly turns into plans of how to sustain the egg.

"How long will it take for an egg to hatch? Should I keep it in my pocket? I guess I'll build a nest for it out of fake feathers. Yeah, cotton balls, that's a good idea," brainstorms Marek. And he carries it all the way home, asking for assistance along the way to pull up his pants since his hands are otherwise occupied.

How does one sustain an egg?

In my four pregnancies, this was a mystery to me each time. Yes, four pregnancies. Three children.

The first egg was the bad egg. It didn't stick around long. But I think it was a girl. She was conceived in desperation about a week after my father gave me the talk, "So, Christa. You understand I am terminal. Now, are you ever going to have any children?"

I went home, changed my health insurance plans, and conceived in time so I could share with my Dad that, "Yes. I am going to have children."

My father passed away several days later, and I returned home to Colorado to miscarry.

It was YEARS before I shared this information with anyone other than Geoff and the poor male doctor who had to deal with an emotionally wrecked patient who had just lost a fetus and a father.

It turns out that miscarriage is common. It is especially common when one has just lost a loved one. But at the time I did not know this. I wandered around with my dog, and saw babies everywhere. I wondered if something was wrong with me. I felt like I had been kicked out of the parent club before I had even been welcomed. I wondered if I would ever get another chance to join. I waited the recommended three months which seemed SO LONG. And then along came Marek.

In retrospect, the fetus was just a blip. Thank goodness my body dispelled it instead of giving birth to a monster. Can you imagine four kids in our little house and one of them with two heads? Yet, even though it is ridiculous, I still feel like this was my child that had met my father. My only child that had met my father. And that still makes it harder than it should be. To lose a blip. A blip of expectation. A blip of hope. A blip of life.

I have found myself speechless for all things painful. And I wonder if others have done the same?

After my father died I could not write a Christmas letter for the first time in my adult life. Several years later I admired my friend's courage who not only sent a Christmas letter after her Mom's death, but included a beautiful eulogy. I cried for my friend's loss and a woman I had only met a few times.

I have vowed to share my pains so that others may gain from them. Bear with me.

Miscarriage happens all the time.

It happened to me.

As Kurt Vonnegut would say, "So it goes."

Try, try again.

Geoff is wondering if we should eat the bird egg.

Caught Naked

Last night I was enjoying the spray of my nightly shower when I heard it.

"Mommy!!!" And with the "Mommy" came a lot of of loud wailing.

Oh. It had been so long since Tildy woke up in the middle of the night and interrupted my alone time. This used to be our nightly ritual. She would wake up and cry outside the bathroom door until I let her in. And Geoff, of course, sleeps through it all.

I have learned to ignore her cries. Call me cold-hearted, but she has always cried so much for me that I've learned to mute her sound. So I went on with my hot, massaging shower, pretending it was still peaceful alone time.

And suddenly I realized, I was no longer alone in the bathroom. Tildy was now able to reach the doorknob and had opened the door herself!

So I wrapped up the shower, pulled the curtain open, and began toweling off. Her crying died off since she was now in my godlike presence. And then I really looked at Tildy and she was looking at me intensely. Not a look like she was content to be with me.

She was checking me out. "So this is what Mom has been hiding under all those warm winter garments..." And I suddenly felt very uncomfortable and quickly wrapped up in my towel.

It's not that I intentionally avoid exposing myself to Tildy, I think it's just been awhile since she's had opportunity, since I do normally groom while she is otherwise occupied (sleeping). I do avoid changing in front of the boys. They are of an age where they are very interested in bodily functions and I'd just as soon leave them in wonder as long as possible.

Now, my Dad, he was a naturalist. He thought nothing of being naked in front of his daughters. It's not like he flaunted it or was inappropriate. It just was. Sometimes it's hard to avoid nakedness.

I have always been a fairly modest person. And I wonder why.

If I were to explain my beliefs on nudity, I would SAY that I have no problem with nudity. The human body is beautiful. We all have one. It assists us tremendously in day-to-day life with things like breathing and walking, and talking. We take ourselves for granted, our wonderful bodies that do so much for us. And so I don't know why it is hard for me to proudly flaunt it.

I was once a modern dancer. I trained my body so it would do what I wanted in front of large groups of people often clothed in not very much. You get used to anything after a while. But once I was in a dance piece where the choreographer wanted us to wear white unitards that were about twenty years old. Now think about how a white unitard looks on the average human. And then think about how an old, white, see-through unitard might look on an average human. At the dress rehearsal which was in front of a live choir, most of us performers choose to slip something on underneath. I think I wore a nude colored leotard to mask my belly button outline. But not my friend, Heather. She was someone comfortable in her own skin. Heather decided to show this choreographer exactly what she was asking for. The choreographer watched our run-through. I'm sure everyone watched Heather. The costuming was changed for the actual performance.

Despite the fact that everyone has a body, nudity is a distraction.

I guess it's because we are all so different?

I think the recreation center in our city has it about right. They have always asked that boys over four years of age use the same sex dressing room. This can cause problems when your five-year old boy tries out the male locker room for the first time all by himself. You know when you meet your child outside and he is still in a swimsuit, that something is amiss. But luckily the front desk supplies a male assistant to aid in tracking down discarded clothing in the maze of lockers. But it does seem like at about this age, the differences start to be apparent.

Fat, thin, short, long, dark, light, loose, muscular, sunburned, wrinkly, freckly, stretch-marked, birth-marked, pock-marked, tattooed - the differences are there.

And so the differences must be hidden. Why do we hide nakedness in the US like we are ashamed until a naked body becomes a commodity? I mean I'm sure we have all looked at National Geographic growing up. In many other cultures where the climate is more friendly and women are nursing all the time, everyone is basically naked.

And in our country, nursing in public can cause a protest.

We could all take a lesson from Tildy. "I want to be naked," she announces, and she strips off her clothes and happily runs around the backyard.

When does this change? When do we learn that our body is something to veil?

Is it when we are four and watch the array of grown-up bodies quickly changing in the YMCA locker room?

Is it when we are eight and visit our aunt for a week and notice that everyone in the aunt's family closes the bathroom door when they use the toilet?

Is it when we are eleven and streak from the clothesline to the house in a towel and receive a lecture from our Mom?

Is it when we are 16 and begin to classify those who reveal too much skin into a subcategory?

Is it when we are 39 and realize that our body is starting to experience gravitational pull, and may no longer be an attractive sight?

Once long ago, I had the opportunity to lay on a flat rock in an isolated canyon in the summertime. The sun was filtered and warm and I was with people I loved and trusted. I allowed some vitamin D to absorb into my bare chest, and it felt great! I didn't sunbathe so long that I burned; just long enough that I had an experience. I vowed that I would sunbathe topless more in the future.

And I never did again.

Maybe it is time.

Soul Mate

"Do you know what a soul mate is, Marek?"

"No."

"Some people believe that there is one person in particular that fits them like no one else, and that they are meant to be together. For me, that person is Dad."

"Mom, are you and Dad going to get divorced?" Marek was supposed to be peacefully asleep like his siblings. Instead he is distressed and developing soap operas in his mind as his father and I argue excitedly in our 1000 square foot house. Geoff is slightly deaf. It always escalates arguments.

"Dad and I will not get a divorce, because we took a vow when we were married that we would support each other in good times and in bad times. It's okay to argue and yell. It gets the feelings out and sorts through the problems so things can be right again. You yell at me when you are angry. Do you still love me?"

"Yes."

"And I still love Dad. I remember when Dad and I went on our first date. I knew by the next day that he was THE ONE."

"What's a date, Mom?"

"It's like a play date, but for grown-ups."

"What did you do for your first date?"

"Let's see... We went to a barbecue at his neighbor's, and I remember talking at his apartment for most of the night. "

Is this all we did? Is this all it took for it to be magical? It's funny. I don't remember much about our first date. But I remember when I went home after the date and announced to my roommates, "I think I'm in love!"

I was a person who did not believe in love.

Before I met Geoff I defined romantic love as timing plus availability plus life stage plus physical attraction. I spent most of my free time with gay men and wished I could marry my (female) best friend so I wouldn't have to worry about this step. I think several people thought I was gay due to my hairy legs and lack of dates.

How does that happen? That instant chemistry. He is I and I am him. We are one.

Do we look like one?

I remember my Mom's words the night my father passed away. We were all up late together talking, my Mom, my sister, and I. My Dad was still there too. My Mom said, "We had a fairy tale."

How does one leave their soul mate?

Less than a year later, my Mom had found a new fairy tale, bless her. How does one possess the courage and luck to find this again?

How could I ever part from someone that I love so much? Someone I looked for so hard. Someone who taught me what love is just by being HIM.

It's been just about 16 years now since Geoff and I moved into our little house together, and more than ten since we exchanged our vows. Nothing is like I would have predicted it, and I would change nothing.

I sit with Marek as he falls asleep. I am still filled with incredible anger toward Geoff. Yet as I recollect the many reasons why I choose to spend my life with this individual, I am filled with a veil of thankfulness that I have him. My soul mate.

Hello Out There!

So I am becoming a more sophisticated blogger. Not totally there yet, but learning a few tricks. I started a Google Analytics account which is totally interesting. Now I can see how many people are reading my blog, where they are coming from, and how they found me.

So I know that for the past three days, not ONE person has read my blog.

Are you all taking National TV Turnoff Week this seriously?

Or should my feelings be hurt?

It's funny. The irony of blogging about TV Turnoff Week was lost on me when I posted that entry. Think about it. Here I am rambling on about cutting back TV/computer time while using my computer.

When I think of my computer lifestyle of last year compared to this year, I am nostalgic. I would go days without even turning my computer on. Maybe I would decide to check email every few days or maybe not. Maybe I would need to patiently research something on my dial up Internet connection. Usually I was very organised in my work support for our business. I would do all the financials in one evening, and then just work on a project once or twice in a week for the business or something personal. The computer was a very simple tool, and I could limit it for those tasks that were vital.

My life was a little smaller, but a whole lot simpler.

Now I frequently restrain myself from checking my Etsy and Dandelion Chain accounts. Has anything happened or changed in the Christa Marek Newton Universe in the last two minutes? I've learned about online Bill Pay (Wow!) and can check my bank balances in an instant. I read blogs of people I have never met, but who allow new thoughts and visuals and inspiration. I am acquiring bookkeeping work in an online capacity.

My life is a whole lot more complex, but so much bigger.

Simpler or bigger. Bigger or simpler. I have always known technology would find a place in my life again. I was just not sure when or what that would look like. And to be honest, I still don't know. It will continue to evolve.

And if it seems that I am alone in the blog universe, will the blog continue?

If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

Tea or TV

It is early morning. Way too early in my opinion. A school morning. I am trying to rouse myself which is difficult enough. And now I am back for the third or fourth shake awake for Marek. If he doesn't get up soon, I will grab him and yank him out of his blissful bed.

I stumble out into the kitchen, and there is Tildy looking for me, the center of her universe. I wonder why on earth this child willingly crawls out of bed just so she can be near me when she could be enjoying her dreams. Especially since the child who should be getting up is a puddle of resistant goop on the top bunk of his bed.

Like it or not, I no longer have peace in the morning. For my morning ritual. The same one I've had my whole life as long as I can remember in which I make a cup of tea and toast, prop myself up in front of a book, and refuse to interact with another being until I am finished. My college housemates avoided the kitchen in the morning. They knew and respected my patterns. They knew what battles were worth fighting, my habits not being one of them.

My children - that's another story. Why, oh, why won't they leave me alone in the morning? But they don't, and so I have found a tool in which to engage them. So they will leave me alone for a few minutes. So I can drink my tea, and eat my toast, and read my book. The magical tool - it is, of course, the TV.

So this is National TV Turn Off Week. And I'm sorry, I believe in it. But I just can't do it. Not now. Not this year. Not yet.

I did seriously consider pulling the plug this year. The TV usage in our house is actually quite minimal. Tildy still doesn't understand commercials, and I love that! We limit TV (and DVDs) to early mornings, hair-cuts, and special movie events. That's pretty much it for the kids, and since Geoff picked up the Lord of Rings Trilogy, that's been mostly it for us too.

However - THE COMPUTER USAGE! Sick of this! The past few weeks the Star Wars game was banned due to inappropriate behavior (i.e. ignoring their mother), and things have been so p-e-a-c-e-f-u-l. So I did not need National TV Turn Off Week as an excuse. It - the computer - was already turned off. So no need to interrupt my teatime as yet.

I fantasize about being one of those households without a TV or computer. I think we could easily live without a TV. When my children are teenagers and coming home to an empty house and watching TV after school, that is when I might throw out the TV.

But a computer. How could I live without a computer? And really, by the time my kids are teenagers, won't TV and computers be about the same thing?

And so I must limit, limit, limit. What a drag. To be the limiter all the time.

So to encourage instead, if you are actually trying to turn your TV off this week, there is an awesome list of things to do that can be found at: http://www.turnoffyourtv.com/turnoffweek/TV.turnoff.week.html

And in the spirit of National TV Turn Off Week, I will conclude with facts from screentime.org:

How many people are in the average American household? 2.55

How many televisions do they have? 2.73

We are a society of more televisions than people!

50% of American homes have at least 3 televisions or more
19% of homes have only 1.

In 1975 only 11% of US households had more than 3 TVs…and 57% only had 1!

The average American home has the television on for well over 8 hours every day. That is an hour more than just a decade ago.

The average American watches 4 hours and 35 minutes of television each day.

Young people 12-17 years of age increased their television viewing by 3% just this year…a pretty big increase in just 12 months.

Teenage girls have dramatically increased their television viewing late at night and early in the morning…maybe they just don’t sleep anymore?

All the above statistics are from Nielson 2006

Soccer Snacks

"Mom! Did you see that save? The ball was like, an inch from the goal and we stopped it from going in!" Marek excitedly runs up to us after his soccer game.

"Yeah, Marek. That was an amazing save. It was a really good game. But look at that..." I reply and point.

I am pointing to the after game snack supplied to the other team, the likes of which I have never seen before. A sugar on a stick. A sugar kabob. A sugar tease. It is a skewer with marshmallows, lifesaver gummies, and something covered in chocolate. Part of me is relieved that this goes to the other team. Can you imagine the fight this delicacy would provoke with the siblings? But part of me wishes it was the snack of Marek's team - because then I could demand my share also!

As we pack up our chairs and head to the car, I am still drooling. The other team is meandering to their vehicles, enjoying the sugar rush. Does no one besides myself see anything abnormal about this behavior?

Oh, the soccer snack. I have no idea how other youth sports are conducted around the country, but in our area, at the end of every game of soccer, the participants are rewarded for their efforts with a special snack. The parents are expected to take their turn supplying this snack - usually once per season.

Marek's snack this week is a granola bar and juice box.

Our rule is that eating in front of others is not polite. So Marek must save his snack or share his snack.

"Here, Oscar." Marek hands him a granola bar. "I got an extra for you and Tildy to share."

I am astounded. Now the soccer snacks are provoking my child into stealing so he doesn't have to share. I make a mental note to add a new rule to our after soccer snack consumption - no stealing extra food if it is not offered.

"I want to save it," says Oscar.

"No, Oscar. You have to eat it, because otherwise I can't eat mine without sharing it with Tildy," says Marek.

"Oscar, you have to eat it now," I overrule. The last thing I want right now is to referee another soccer snack fight.

Once in the car, Marek quickly downs the juice. Not real juice. The flavored water kind that people pretend is juice because it is cheap and individually packaged for easy hand out. He passes the empty carton to Oscar, who cannot tell that it is empty. We go through this every week.

Oscar tries to sip it, and then wails, "Marek, it's all gone!"

And I give a deep sigh as I start the car and drive away. "Let's go have some lunch."

I have to wonder, who started the soccer snack tradition and what was their intention?

I once saw one team have an after game meeting led by the coach. In this case the snack was a community builder. They actually ate together as they discussed the game, instead of grabbing the snack and rushing off to their individual lives, probably to eat lunch.

Interestingly, younger kids are professionally coached through our city recreation program. They do not receive a soccer snack. Snacks don't start until the U7 division when the parents begin coaching. So this is about the fifth season I have encountered this routine. I still don't know how I should handle it - IT being something that flies so fiercely against anything I am trying to teach my kids about nutrition, exercise, and manners.

To date I have played along, supplied my snack, and let Marek participate. I generally am not one to make waves - especially for something so petty.

Last year I brought 24 bananas and I think about two of them were eaten. A lot of banana bread was made that week.

This year when the snack sign up sheet was waved in my face, I got up the guts to tell the snack organizer that I did not believe in snack, but that I would bring the halftime oranges. I got the impression the snack organizer now thinks I am cheap. Or crazy.

I am contemplating next season already. Should I approach the already burdoned volunteer coach and ask that snacks be skipped this season? Should I email the city sports program coordinator (who already is kind enough to humor me with a practice location within biking distance) with my snack thoughts? Or should I just tell Marek that we are not participating in soccer snacks? That I will not bring any, and he can not have any? How much of a tantrum would this provoke? Could I enforce this? Is it worth it?

For now I wonder what we have in our cupboards at home. Forget about lunch. I want sugar kabobs!

THINGS TO DO: Make Custom Paper Dolls

Paper dolls. Easy to Make. Easy to Store. Recyclable. Free. It just might be the perfect toy.

A couple of summers ago, Marek had several girlfriends over to play. They were the crafty kind of girls and looking for something new to do. In a fit of necessity bred inspiration, I took photos of the kids, glued them on cardboard, and helped them to cut and dress their look-alike dolls. Hours of entertainment.

I have always loved paper dolls. What easier way to experiment with fashion than by changing the clothes on a paper doll?


Custom Paper Doll Instructions:
1) Begin with a paper doll posed photo. For tips on taking a good photo, see one of my paper doll listings at my Etsy shop: http://www.etsy.com/shop/macraft

2) Print out the photo and paste it onto cardboard. Use the cardboard from a cereal box or the back of a notebook for an economic and ecological solution. A have found rubber cement to be the best connector, because the paper will stay flat, it dries quickly, and the extra cement cleans off after it is dry.

3) Cut out around the edges of the paper doll. Scissors work fine for light-weight cardboard. I use an exacto knife for more precise cutting. If your model has long hair, you will need to make a cut across the shoulders for the clothing tabs to fold through.


Clothing Creation Instruction:
1) Choose paper for the clothing. We have used just plain white computer paper and colored it in. We have also used the fun colors and patterns of scrapbook paper.

2) Place the doll on the paper and trace around the edges to get the shape and size for the clothes. Use a pencil so extra lines can be erased.

3) Draw the clothing onto the tracing modifying the shape as needed. For example, for a dress the skirt will drape out from the legs.

4) Draw tabs on the shoulders, sides, legs or wherever needed to hold the clothing on. Do not forget the tabs!

5) Cut out the clothing with the tabs. Before cutting, I will sometimes draw around the final cut line in marker or a darker pencil so the cut line is clear.

6) Decorate the clothing and place on the doll.


Tips:
If you want to get really fancy, the doll can be placed face down on the paper to trace around it "inside out" so the lines do not show from the front.

You can also create a tissue paper template for the clothes. This will keep the doll nicer so repeated tracings are not taken from it, and it allows the doll to be visible through the template for fitting and shaping.

Younger children might need some help pasting with rubber cement and/or cutting the doll. They might also need you to hold the doll in place while they trace for clothing creation. And remind them about the tabs!

Cutting Costs in the Kitchen

Last year we saved thousands of dollars on our food costs. Yes. You read that right. Thousands. I believe about $2600. I don't know what this says about how we were eating before, but I certainly feel good about how we are eating now.

After reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle (Ah, Barbara, I love you...) and watching Food Inc. I made a series of small steps surrounding our food consumption. I am simply amazed at how things added up. And the best part is, I think we are eating healthier than we ever have before.

And I think we will save even more this year.

Now, I will be the first to admit that nothing here is an original idea. In fact when I look at this list, if I had just ate like I did when I was little to begin with, we probably could have bought a bigger house by now! But just in case you are interested...

1) I LIMIT OUR DINING EXPERIENCES. This was THE big saver. Almost $3000 saved here, though our grocery bill had to go up slightly to compensate. Now just so we are clear, by "dining," I mean every time we purchase food outside the grocery store, so this includes such fine dining establishments as McDonalds and even carry out pizza. To truly limit dining, A LOT of planning must take place. Sometimes it is really hard not to just swing into a drive thru and entertain the children with Happy Meals. I must always think ahead to what food we may need for errands, and Geoff has to remember to bring some leftovers with him for lunch. In addition, we sometimes dine with Geoff at the shop when he is working late. In the past I would usually have picked up something on the way. Now I try really hard to make a pizza or a casserole and pack a picnic. Though $20 at McDonalds doesn't seem like much, I can supply a well balanced meal for our family for literally half the cost.

2) I SHOP AROUND. I shop at our normal grocery store, the super discount store, and the health food store almost every week. In general, what I have found for our purchases is that baking ingredients and junk foods are cheaper at the discount store. Organic products and basic bulk foods like beans are cheaper at the health food store. And anything that falls out of these categories has to be bought from the supermarket. I have been amazed at the price difference on the same exact product from one store to the next.

And for the record, I do not like the food warehouse thing. I think it generates too much waste, takes too much storage space, provides inconsistent products so knowing pricing is problematic, and encourages spontaneous purchases. Though I'm sure it can save money, it requires a lot of discipline and ongoing research.

3) I BUY EXTRA IF THEY ARE ON SALE. I don't buy something just because it IS on sale. But if something I buy regularly is on sale, I pick up an extra.

4) SOME ITEMS I ONLY BUY IF THEY ARE ON SALE. This includes mac-n-cheese (we like the organic - less sodium) and hot dogs (Again - a specialty hot dog. Think of the money we would save if we weren't so choosy about our food!)

5) I LOOK FOR LESS EXPENSIVE COMPARABLE PRODUCTS. I used to be very hooked on certain brands. Now I compare labels and if something seems as healthy, and is less expensive, I will try it. Sometimes it doesn't work. Like the kids did not go for the generic cereals.

6) I BUY A LARGE SIZE PRODUCT AND PACKAGE IT MYSELF. It is more economical to package your own yogurt servings, and it is more ecological. Sorry, kids. No snack bags of crackers for you.

7) I AVOID PREPACKAGED FOODS. I refuse to buy cookies, cupcakes, and health bars. Granola bars and frozen organic hash browns are special treats. I do a lot more baking. And it is SO MUCH better.

8) I CUT OUT THE JUNK. Well, almost. No more chocolate milk flavoring. Ice Cream is no longer a staple. I'm done nursing anyway - who needs the calories!

9) I BUY WHAT'S IN SEASON. To some extent. I'm not quite the die hard like my love, Barbara. But I am so ready for strawberry season!

10) I DUG OUT THE SLOW COOKER. For those hectic days, it is so rewarding to come home to a prepared dinner. I also use the slow cooker for a lot of beans. Healthier than canned and even cheaper.

11) I PREPARE FOOD FOR LUNCHES. I usually make one meal a week just to stick in the freezer and eat as needed. Breakfast burritos, soups, and beef stew are favorites. Geoff can grab them on his way out the door, and the kids and I can eat them if we are rushed like on a soccer practice night.

12) I EXPANDED THE GARDEN. I used to just grow a "salad." Last year I experimented with refrigerator and freezer canning methods. How great to pull out home grown organic pesto, peppers, spinach, spaghetti sauce, salsa, pickles, and jelly.

13) WE RUN OUT OF FOOD. This isn't as bad as it sounds. For example, we have been out of jelly for several weeks, and I refuse to buy more until I can buy some fruit economically and make some myself. And sometimes we have to eat our tacos without lettuce. Sometimes we have to eat something else.

14) I STICK TO THE BASICS. To sum up, my shopping cart now looks like a food pyramid pamphlet. It is filled with flour, eggs, milk, bread, fruit, vegetables, nuts, butter, meat, and not much else.

Happy New Year

Each year, around the beginning of the year, I make a small, subtle change or two to my life. I don't consciously think of these changes as new year's resolutions. They are just improvements, and I happen to date stamp these improvements since they begin with the new year. The improvements are usually casual, announced to no one in particular, and put in place as I see fit, so I generally am highly successful in implementation. A while ago I put in place our household recycling and compost systems. Last year I vowed to replace the nonstick pan with a cast iron skillet and to hang dry most of our laundry. These were easy.

This year I decided I wanted to explore bread making with our food processor. This one turns out to be easy as well, and the thought of toast made from freshly baked bread is often the motivation to get me out of bed in the morning.

However, the second part to my life improvement this year turns out to not be so easy: I vowed to begin exercising regularly.

This is a funny one for me, because I often walk and bike miles each day in transportation, and this time of year I pass my free time digging dirt. But you know, these activities do nothing for butt jiggle.

Our bodies are truly amazing in their ability to transform and yet reshape. In the past eight years I gained and lost over 150 pounds with my three pregnancies. I can announce this now that I am sure that the baby weight does go away. I am lucky that the old adage about nine months on, nine months off works for me. But I still fantasize about my pre-pregnancy body - strong, lithe, defined, and lifted. And after the first two pregnancies, I still retained hope that I might dance again. And so I tried to stretch and do a few plies every few days. Every now and then I would leap around the backyard. I even went to a few dance classes. And so I deluded myself into believing I had to stay somewhat in shape - just in case I might ever perform again.

After bearing Matilda, three children put me over the cliff. I have certainly lost hope that I will ever perform again and most days I wonder if I will ever even take a dance class again. Hope. Without hope, why would I bother to maintain?

I am always inspired by others.

My Mom has been preparing hard for her sixtieth birthday half marathon challenge this year. It's next week. I remember when I was a kid and she was thirty or so and took up jogging, and I thought, "What a youthful mother I have that she can still run at her age!" Now she is twice that in age, and she is again running circles around me.

And then a couple days ago I read on the blog of a friend of a friend (http://www.onecraftymother.com/2010/04/waiting-to-care.html) about her weight loss goals. And I realized, it is time. It is time to dig up the HOPE and dust it off.

I am probably an exercise addict that has been suffering withdrawal symptoms for the past three years. I sure am a lot happier when my muscles are well-used and stiff, and blood has been pumping throughout my body. Why can I not make the time for this - time for myself?

And so for the past two days I have done it. Just baby steps. A little rope jumping. A few push-ups. A short jog. Some dangling on the monkey bars. Will I manage to keep this up?

Marek asked me today, "Here Mom. Would you like some superpower?" And he dabbed something sticky on my palm.

"Would I ever, Marek! Please slather me in superpower!"

The Clipboard Man

It is the errand that I dread the most. The one I put off as long as possible. The one that I know I should do, but yet somehow never get around to doing. And also one that frankly, I feel should not be on my list of household chores. As usual, today it is my responsibility.

I pull the car into our local fast lube oil change service center, and I am nervous. I am always nervous about this errand. The assault begins as soon as I stop the car. Clipboard in hand, the technician walks up. "What is the mileage on your vehicle?"

Okay. I can answer this one. But will I be judged and then pressured into an array of additional vehicle maintenance services as a result of the high mileage between oil changes?

I step out of the car and go inside, two children in tow today. We have a seat, and then it is the guy with the clipboard again. "Last time we did a high-mileage oil change. This is the recommended oil change for your vehicle. Will we be doing the same today?"

I know I asked what this meant last visit, but I certainly don't remember. What is the difference in cost? What is the difference in function? I know our car is old, but do they have to rub it in? In the end I tell him to go ahead with the high-mileage oil. With the maintenance schedule of our vehicle, we need all the help we can get, and maybe this is money well spent?

We settle in with our books and our snacks, but I am still on edge. I expect that clipboard guy to reappear again - potentially with terrible news like the car has been contaminated with a horrible metal eating virus and unless I approve a $100 engine flush, it will never operate again.

He does appear again after awhile. "Are you interested in wiper replacement or a transmission fluid change today?" Since I have no idea as to these items, the answer is, "No." I mean I only drive this car once a week or so!

"Here is the recommended maintenance schedule for this vehicle."

Am I supposed to respond in some way to this? He disappears again.

And reappears yet again carrying the car's air filter. Wait. Why is he waving it around in front of me? It looks almost brand new to my untrained eyes.

"Your air filter looks okay. You have some minor leaks of oil and transmission fluid, but nothing that is causing any substantial loss of fluid. I'll just put this back in your car, and we'll get you out of here."

Whoo. We're almost done. I feel like I've worked through a visit to the dentist without any cavities. And the $36 oil change only cost $56 instead of the usual $106 that in my bewildered and frightened state, I normally end of paying.

The problem with this errand is this - I just don't know. I don't know anything about cars and how they work. I don't know how best to keep them running. I don't ever keep track of needed maintenance - I assume Geoff has it covered. Until the car breaks. Or an oil lube tech is waving a broken part in my face. I just don't know. And even worse - I just don't care to know.

A long time ago I had good intentions. I bought my first car out of college. A beautiful, red Jetta Volkswagon with a stick shift. My father nearly collapsed when I suggested a purchase of a car not manufactured in America. But he supported my decision though it was based on aesthetics and not reputation. He taught me how to drive a stick. And he tried to teach me how to change my tires and how to change my oil. Both lessons were a discouraging failure. In my defense, I was just not strong enough to loosen (or probably tighten) the lug nuts on the wheels. Can you picture the wheel rolling right off my car as I drive down the highway? And the oil changing spot on this model was in a particularly inaccessible location. I think my Dad even had problems getting to it. So our lessons fizzled.

I moved across the country soon after, and there my relationship with the quick lube folks began, and soon after the relationship with Geoff. And between one relationship and the other, I have never learned much of anything about cars - except that AAA is usually a sound investment when driving cars of our vintage.

So is it sexist of me to believe that car maintenance should be firmly placed on Geoff's "To Do" List, and that I should never be trusted with an errand of this caliber? Or am I simply dividing errands up as our skill set would dictate? Though I like to think of myself as an independent and intelligent women, when vehicle maintenance is concerned I shrivel up like I am six years old again and just want to be told what to do from a trusted authority.

The kids and I begin our climb into our freshened car, and I am met with the true advantage of one of these service centers. Bless the heart of this brave man with the clipboard, because he actually attempted to vacuum out the car - a car strewn with cleats and soccer balls, stroller and chairs, dirty laundry and fast food wrappers. Three cheers for the clipboard man!

Me and My Friends and Shots

My neighbor called me the other day. She was wondering if I had a pediatrician that I could recommend. My immediate response, not even thinking how prying I might sound, "Oh, are you looking to get shots for kindergarten?"

She was most certainly NOT looking to get shots for kindergarten, though her son most likely will be starting kindergarten in the fall unless she decides to take the path of home schooling. She was just looking for a good pediatrician for her son's check up.

I respect and admire this neighbor's life choices. She is in education, and is raising her children as I would if I had more backbone. Very Waldorf. Home-based fun, natural fibers, hands-on, no electronics, no sugar, art and nature filled. But if there is one point where I differ from the hippie norm, it is on vaccinations.

Now let me say, I know where she is coming from. Vaccinations scare me also. But frankly a lot of things scare me where my children are concerned - microwaves, non-organic vegetables, fluoride, x-rays, computer usage, sunscreen. I could go on. But while I am worried, I don't let the worry change my behavior, because I believe the good outweighs the bad.

Vaccinations have accomplished amazing things. They have reversed the course of multiple crippling and deadly diseases. And so I love vaccinations. I can protect my children like no other generation has been able to before. How great is that!

I have another friend who raves about the miracle of vaccinations. This has been reassuring to me, and maybe also a bit of successful brainwashing. So I am seeking through this post not to judge other parents for their decisions, but to endorse vaccinations. According to Parents Magazine, 76% of the population is doing it! Join the bandwagon!

My friend's ringing praise has helped me feel at peace with taking the plunge each doctor visit to pin my kids down and allow a stranger to poke into them needles of chemicals. I can believe that I am not only helping them, but helping my community by keeping at bay these diseases that might spread to those unable to be vaccinated, like a new baby for example.

Last year, a child in Oscar's preschool who was not vaccinated came down with the chicken pox. Every other child in his class was vaccinated, so no one was particularly worried about contagion. But I was worried. Had Matilda had her full course of chicken pox vaccinations yet? I had to call the doctor and find out. So I did resent this. And just in case you belittle chicken pox, when chicken pox went through my neighborhood when I was a child, one of my friends caught it and it turned into shingles. Her face is scarred for life.

I must be completely honest here. A long time ago when I was pregnant with Marek, I discussed the birth plan and started to consider the pros and cons of vaccination. I did briefly consider not vaccinating my kids. I mean - yuck! I also dreamed of a midwife led, water birth. And suddenly at 32 weeks, I was in labor. I was briefly allowed to hold the results of my painful efforts that were (of course) delivered in a hospital with a male doctor, and then my baby was whisked away to intensive care where he was hooked up to what seemed to be countless wires. He received numerous tests and medications. And I was SO grateful for the knowledge of the medical industry, because all this technology kept my baby alive. Would he have survived 50 years ago? Who knows. But when the doctor recommended vaccinations, I jumped at the chance to protect my child from further harm.

Here is one more pro-point for vaccinating your kids on schedule. Though it seems terrible to vaccinate new babies, they can just be picked up and nursed and comforted. Fast forward a few years. Now those five-year shots for kindergarten, that's anther story. Marek's five-year shots involved several extra sets of hands to help hold him down. Not a nice scene. Not a proud parent moment.

My neighbor, my friend, and I - none of us are in the medical industry, so we don't really know anything beyond what the experts are saying and what we have experienced with our own kids. This month's issue of Parents Magazine had what I thought was a really good article on vaccinations. You can read it online at:

http://www.parents.com/baby/health/vaccinations/vaccines-the-reality-behind-the-debate/

Biking Baby

"Do you want to ride in the stroller or on your scooter?" I ask Matilda.

Her answer, of course, "Ride my scooter."

She is getting fast enough to keep up with my walking, and I am glad, because now her "commuting" time has become fun and worthwhile. No longer does she need to doze in the stroller as we travel around town. She is an active participant happily engaged in an activity she loves.

We begin the journey to the rec center to pick up Oscar from preschool. As we near the first driveway intersecting our path of travel, I am suddenly disheartened. I realize at that moment, "Oh, no! I have another child I have to train in bike safety. I have to start all over again with another one!"

This makes me feel tired. I remember feeling this way when she was born and I contemplated the miles of diapers we would have to journey before reaching potty training. But this one I did not anticipate. Bike training! Extremely important for our lifestyle. Why did I not think this one through ahead of time?

I sprint to catch up to Matilda, and begin my "Rules of the Road" lecture. This will probably be a continuous stream for most of this season. She is only two, and so far she has demonstrated zero understanding of what she needs to do to be allowed to bike with the Newton family. Though I do discuss traffic laws with the kids, my basic rules when I am walking and they are rolling are pretty simple:

1) Stop at every corner.

2) Do not cross a street until I say it is okay.

3) Look to the left and right at every "blind" driveway. (I must see heads looking back and forth. We are usually walking the same way every day, so I teach them which driveways are blind, usually by letting them experience backing out "blindly.")

4) When I yell, "Stop!", STOP. Instantly. Or else.

If any of these rules are breached, I have been known to take away a bike for a week or two, and pack the youngster back in the stroller. Luckily for me, at the age when I am training my kids, bike riding rates up there as THE most fun activity. If I threw Marek in the stroller now, he would be grateful for the ride!

Today, I am particularly unnerved by Matilda zooming along unattended on her scooter. I have just learned there has been another fatal bike accident in our small town. This is the second in the past year. The first involved a drunk driver. This one involved an RTD bus and the dark.

I had to look up the statistics. Could bike fatalities possibly be this common? According to the Bicycle Helmet Safety Institute, there were 784 fatal bike accidents in 2007 (the most recent data I could find). Wow. And we've had two of them here.

I must admit I am a particularly obscenely, angry pedestrian/bicyclist. I blame the automobile driver for everything, because from my perspective, that is usually the case. Or so thinks the angry mother hen, whose child has just been cut off by a motorist on their cell phone - again. Sometimes I have thought I should carry a bullhorn around with me to keep the drivers in line.

For today I will just make a suggestion. If you have not rode a bicycle around town in a while, hop on. I am not suggesting this for the exercise or the environment, or the fun (truly I feel like a giddy teenager when I am on my bike). This is for the experience. I do not believe that a driver truly knows how to watch out for a bicyclist until that driver has seen the road from the bicyclist's perspective.

And I also don't believe that my children will truly know how to watch out for an automobile until they have experienced driving a car. Fortunately this one won't happen for a few years.

So please - watch out for them.

Luckily

For weeks now I have walked past a four foot by five foot mirror sitting in my back alley miserably being snowed on and rained on and beat on by the sun. I have been admiring this mirror despite its dire habitat, and after my recent my household rearrangements, I have a blank wall just begging to be filled with a bit of reflection. And finally today I ran into my neighbor who owns this piece of property and got up the guts to ask her if it was in need of a new home.

With a positive response and permission to remove the mirror, I worked it into my schedule this very day. Let me say, it is SO much heavier than I had imagined it might be. And just awkward to carry. The wood is splintering and the mirror is no longer really attached to the frame. I lifted the thing up and my first thought was, "Oh please don't let me break this, because I so do not need seven years bad luck just because I was petty enough to worry about how my living room looks!" I quickly set it back down, and reassessed the situation. I reassured myself with the knowledge that glass is really very strong (or so Geoff says), picked it up again, and a few steps at a time, managed to carry it down the alley, through the backyard, and into the living room.

I love it and it did not break - yet. Unlike on this unlucky day...

Several weeks ago I came home excitedly clutching a four-pack of high quality root beer. I bought this for the kids and I while Geoff was away in Telluride overnight. It was a purchase I consider a special treat - not ordinarily in the budget. And as I lifted my arm to open the door while simultaneously holding the root beer, the carton broke, the root beer bottles spilled out, and root beer poured all over the back porch. I am always breaking things. I am always in too big of a hurry. But I remember thinking after this bit of bad luck, "Could I possibly have broken a mirror and cursed us for seven years?

Really I am not that superstitious. If I were I would probably remember that, "Yes, I did break a mirror in August of 2004 and soon our luck will turn," because as often as I break things, statistically it is likely that I have broken a mirror somewhat recently. But it got me thinking, are some people luckier than others? Should I take it personally when things do not go my way?

I must admit that I used to. I used to wonder "Why us?" when our shop burnt down, or when our employee lifted our portfolio the day I gave birth to Oscar, or like last week when the forklift somehow broke and sprayed hydraulic fluid all over a completed light fixture. But the more I live and hear other people's stories, the more I think it is RISK that contributes to luck. For example, by choosing to move the mirror, I assumed an element of risk in my life that would not have existed if I had let the mirror continue to remain in the alley. This is a relatively small amount of risk, but we make choices like this multiple times every day. Should I gamble with the mirror? Should Tildy wear underwear to the library or a pull-up? Should I allow Marek to walk home from school by himself?

And a risk can be also be great. Should I conceive another child? Should I buy a new house? Should I start my own business?

Root beer doesn't spill because of bad luck. It is risk. With risk, there will always be problems to work through.

It is the wise person who expects these problems and plans for them.

"Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity."

Faith In the Forest

Oscar and Matilda and I have just started mixing up the cookies, when a knock sounds on our front door. I look out the window before I open the door. Two older men - maybe mid-forties-fifties in business suits. My first thought is, "What is it now? Are they with the FBI?" I think after last week I am expecting calamities at every turn or something. So I am relieved - for an instant - when I open the door and see they are carrying Bibles.

"I know you are busy and I don't want to take too much of your time. I just have one question for you. Do you think Jesus Christ was the most influential man that ever lived?"

Well, he did have a good lead in. Potential influential humans flash through my mind - Albert Einstein, Gandhi. But I have cookies to bake and no time for philosophical debates, which is what I inform the uninvited religious zealots.

But as I resume my cookie baking I find I am less focused on cookies, and more on who might be the most influential human.

What a broad, fascinating question. Obviously the answer to this question is biased hugely by one's place in culture, religion, and history. Jesus Christ is the most influential person to a devoted, practicing Christian. But a practitioner of Islam undoubtedly would place Muhammad way before Jesus Christ. And what of Albert Einstein. Where would our scientific development be without Albert? And then let's frame this question within the progress of humankind from the very beginning. Like who invented fire? He/she must have been pretty important. Though I guess the Christian devout might credit that back to Jesus Christ also. Suddenly I see where the door to door salesperson is coming from.

I wonder about these door to door religious converters. We get these guys from time to time, but usually they are young men on bicycles that I've assumed are fulfilling their Mormon missionary requirements, and we usually end up talking about the 1973 postal jeep sitting in our driveway. Why on earth are these older guys going door to door? Maybe I should have asked them. Maybe they're checking out the place for a future burglary? Am I totally paranoid now?

So I want to be clear here. Though I do not practice any religious affiliation myself, I do not and will not judge you for your beliefs - unless you come knocking on my door and judging me. Or fly an airplane into the World Trade Center or something.

And I really want to be clear here, because last week I alluded to the religious beliefs of my previous college roommate with a superior tone. The tone was not about her religion in particular, but the path of our friendship which ended in huge judgments due to the interpretation of her faith. Something about living in sin with my boyfriend (now husband) and going to hell. You can see how that might make me feel.

And I really, really want to be clear here, because I decided sometime along the way, that I would write like I feel and not try to scurry around things just because someone might think differently. Differences make things interesting.

So many of my very, good friends are very devout Christians. I did go to school at Texas Christian University after all. And I was raised a Christian and spent many hours in college pondering my feelings and thoughts surrounding religion and the place and purpose of religion. I've read Mere Christianity. And maybe someday I will get back around to my explorations. My Mom was just telling me how the older she gets, the more important religion is for her. But what I concluded when I graduated from college and left the Bible Belt was that religion is faith-based, and faith cannot be learned; it has to be felt, and felt deeply. So that leaves me smack in the forest as a nature worshiper.

So who is the most influential person in the forest? Would that be Al Gore?

THINGS TO DO: Make Frozen Bananas

We seem to consume bananas in streaks - one week I buy a lot and no one eats them; the next week they are gone in a day. We are picky about our banana consumption. If the banana is too green or too ripe, forget it. No one will touch it.

For a long time I made banana bread with the overripe cast offs. Then everyone stopped eating the banana bread. Lately I've remembered another way to use over ripe bananas. Freeze them for a frozen treat.

I just take the peel off the banana, wrap it in foil and stick it in the freezer. When I want to eat one, I peel the foil down and eat it like an ice cream sandwich. It's sweet and cold and yummy, and so healthy.

Bananas are rich in potassium. I had a gym teacher in Junior High that fed us a banana every day during our running unit. Potassium is an electrolyte and helps your cells, tissues, and organs (including the heart) work right.

Lately I can't freeze bananas fast enough. Heading into summer, this will beat a Popsicle in terms of nutrition any day, and is probably comparable or even lower in cost.

Snapshots of Health Care

Here is Marek the day he was born. Obviously Marek was not the healthiest of children on his birth day. Marek was born at 32 weeks gestation, eight weeks before expected. He was born at one hospital, transferred by ambulance to another hospital, and then lived there for the first six weeks of his life while he learned to breathe and eat outside the womb under medical supervision.

The total cost to us aside from our monthly insurance payment was $300.

This was in 2002, the year after we started our business and our group health care plan. We chose a plan, offered 100% paid coverage to our first employee at our expense, and we paid about $550 a month for our family.


Here is Oscar. Oscar was born in 2005 at 37 weeks gestation. He was playing at the park with us on his third day of life. We had downgraded our health care plan slightly so we were still paying about $550 per month for our family, and had a flat co-pay cost for hospitalization of $1000.


I'll include Matilda in here so she doesn't feel left out. In 2007 we had again downgraded our health care plan so we were still paying about $550 per month for our family. We were gambling that Matilda would not have complications at birth with a plan where we paid 20% of our hospitalization. With financial relief, though not physical relief, she was born at 39 weeks with no complications. According to my records, her birth cost us $1350.

With each child's birth, we are provided a snapshot of health care coverage versus expense at that time. And the difference is totally astounding to me: $300 for a preterm birth versus $1350 for a full term birth within five years. Same insurance company. About the same monthly cost.

As a self-employed person, I've always felt happy to be able to choose my own coverage options. But I have watched the cost of insurance go up ten percent EVERY YEAR. And this is not because of the medical complication of Marek. Interesting enough, once preterm birth is resolved, it's over and we are still placed in the most healthy insurance category. This increase is JUST BECAUSE.

Over the years our employee's appreciation of our health care plan has varied. Most didn't ever use it. There was the guy who went to the emergency room for stitches one night and didn't even understand how the coverage worked - he went to the wrong facility and had to pay for the whole thing out of pocket. There was the older guy who didn't think he could afford the $30 co-pay to get anything checked out (never mind that well visits are free with the plan). There was the guy that worked for us for five years and never used his coverage until he was leaving, so then he went and got a quick physical. It seemed that only those with families cared about the 100% paid health coverage that was given them.

Last year we finally cut our group coverage from the budget of our business.

So I have been intrigued by what our federal government is trying to do for us with the health care initiative. As a small business owner it is SO obvious that something needs to change with our current system. And I will admit that, for a change, I don't believe I have all the answers. But I am VERY worried. Is this going to be like the Credit Card Act which was supposed to help us, but instead caused the interest rates on all our cards to go up?

I watched Michael Moore's Sicko a long time ago. I watch anything by Michael Moore as informative entertainment with incredible bias. But I was struck by the number of health care experts that he managed to dig up. And I am hoping that our government did the same. Surely there is a panel of experts studying all the health care systems in the world? And surely these experts have recommended to our government a path of change based on what has worked in terms of efficiency, cost, coverage, and effectiveness? Aren't they? Can someone reassure me of this?

Just in case, here are the recommendations I would make to the government:

• Separate health care from the employer and give it to the individual. As many have pointed out, we all change employers so often, employer led health care no longer makes sense. This also allows us to see the actual cost versus benefit and make individual choices. Marek's birth cost us $300, but we were provided information of the actual cost which, if my memory is correct was well over $100,000. What a way to build brand loyalty!

• More openness into the drug industry. Why are we prescribed one brand versus a different brand? Maybe there is a better way than a drug to get the same affect like prescribing roller skating for depression?

• More taxation of lifestyle choices that directly affect our health: cigarettes, alcohol, fast food, etc. OR even better, tax incentives for healthy living: running shoes, ski passes, health club membership, sunscreen, etc.

• Government led health education plans. The big providers already do this. For example, information on when well health visits and screening are needed. And information about when something is truly worth a visit to the doctor. I have a book from my health care provider that I consult continuously before I make an appointment.

• Provide options rather than mandates. I don't believe people should be required to have health insurance. But I do believe everyone should have affordable choices. Why not offer catastrophic plans that are very affordable? This is really when health insurance is needed anyway.

• Create a merger of the big and effective health care providers already in place like Kaiser and Mayo. Or let them bid on a government contract for the entire country. They are already doing it. I have to believe they know more about running a health care system than our government.

A Visit From Mom

As usual, we are late to the airport. We rush into the concourse all in a flurry but the timing turns out to be perfect. I round the corner and there is my Mom just stepping off the escalator from the gates. She is half a football field away but I spot her instantly in her flaming red pants in all her fine glory. I still feel something light up within me when I am with my Mom, and today is no exception. Suddenly the world is a safe and comfortable place, because my Mom is here. Does everyone feel this way about their Mom? Do my kids feel this way about me?

Let's play a game. Think through the list of your friends from past and present. Now - let's say you are the age of your children (or your future children). If you could choose any one of these friends to be your Mom, which would you choose?

Would you want the steady, comforting Mom who cooks well, but who will probably put you to bed on time every night? Or the adventurous Mom who exposes you to a whole new world, but who might forget to do your laundry? Maybe the sensitive Mom who knows just what to say when you are worried or hurt, but who might embarrass you with her probing? Or the Mom who dresses you cute, but makes a habit of leaving you with a babysitter all the time? What about the Mom who plays soccer with you, but holds you to extremely high standards?

When I think through my list of friends there are many who are remarkable and many that I regard as great mothers. But truly not one friend can wrap up the entire package into one person. Really it does take a village to be the all-mighty mother.

And yet we try again and again every day.

I feel blessed that my Mom does an awesome job of bringing it all together, and I am so grateful for the role modeling that she has provided to me. And hey - all you friends out there. I am also grateful for the role modeling you give me every day.

Thank you.

Locked Out and In

It is late in the day. I have been cleaning. All day long. Literally. My Mom and her husband are coming to visit. So a clean house is high on the priority list. The kids have been self entertaining themselves for hours, and I am - tired. As you can imagine we are all strung a little tight.

I have just sat for a bit to enjoy a cup of tea. Marek and Oscar and Tildy are in the closet. Literally. They are challenging themselves to see if all three can fit in this two foot by two foot space. Oscar is pretending to lock the closet with this little metal key he found somewhere. He has been carrying it around all day, and I don't think it is for anything important. He has especially been interested in placing it in and out of the lock on the bathroom door.

"See, Mom. The key fits. It just doesn't turn. Here, you try and turn it."

I have tried. The key most definitely does not fit in the bathroom lock. I know this, because the bathroom door lock does not have a key. A key for the bathroom was not included in the sale of our home.

It is time to resume my cleaning. I get up off the couch, and head to the bathroom for a quick break. Strangely enough, the bathroom door is shut. I feel a sense of doom come upon me. Why would the door be shut if all three kids are in the closet?

"Marek and Oscar and Tildy? Are you in the closet still?"

"Yeah!" they all reply.

I try the knob, and of course, it is locked.

"Marek and Oscar, why is the bathroom door locked?!"

They fall out of the closet to come to my aid. Marek quickly explains. "It's an experiment. Oscar wanted to show me how his key could open the bathroom lock, but it doesn't. You can just climb through the bathroom window like you did last time."

Did I mention yet that this is not the first time this has happened?

"MAREK! How can I climb through the window in the middle of winter? The window is locked and the storm window is on! And I have to pee!" I wail. I feel floored and I resume my perch on the couch to think through the problem. After a day like I have made, a locked bathroom door is simply more than I can handle and crossing my legs until Geoff gets home seems like the best solution. Too bad I just drank that tea...

I may be locked out of the bathroom, but it seems my sense of humor has been locked in.

THINGS TO DO: Build with Sticks

Have I mentioned how much I love creativity that is totally FREE? Have I mentioned how much I love when I trigger a positive behavior in my kids just by living?

Today Tildy and I erected a stick tepee for the peas and beans to grow up. I was a bit disappointed with the size. Due to the lack of branches in the yard we were a little confined as to materials, but we managed.

Marek came home and saw our masterpiece. "You used my special stick!" I was not aware that sticks were "special." Perhaps I should have asked first?

An hour later I track down Marek and Oscar in the backyard, and they are building with sticks. I love that! So what is this creation that is barely visible in the photo? Apparently some kind of storefront from my understanding.

Directions on how to build with sticks: Is this necessary? Interconnect those sticks and stick them in the ground any way you can so they don't topple. When I was little, I did this in the fall. I would create a tepee-like frame in a hut shape. Then I would bury the hut with leaves which created cozy walls in which to hide.