June 2007

La Coupa-ina a La Divina

You’ve heard us wax on about La Divina Gelateria, Magazine Street’s newest home of culinary delights. We’re not kidding about the awesome-ness of this place… Alton Brown is even featuring them in his traveling road show (airing August 4th)!

Our friends Katrina and Carmello (the minds behind La Divina’s creamy recipes) are trying to spread the word about their yummy lunch specials (followed, of course, with one-of-a-kind gelato and seriously fancy caffe). To help with this, they have made a coupon for discounts on lunchtime eats. (PS: telecommuters, they have free wireless!)Feel free to click on and use the coupon, or to pass it on to others! You can view a menu on their website. Buon Appetito!

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It’s Not Easy Being Green

One of several random aversions I have developed as a result of the study of epidemiology
has been related to water. Specifically: unless given no other choice, I do not drink tap water. In part this is due to my own idiosyncrasies, in part due to getting used to the whole bottled-water -all-the-time thing while overseas, and mostly, due to studying public health at Michigan where many of the professors are leaders in water quality and environmental toxicology. As a result, many of studies we read, dissected, and used for learning were in those areas of science.

Another part of my water-peculiarity came from the water in Ann Arbor, which I thought had “a smell.” (Warning: detailed health event to follow.) A few weeks after moving to Michigan — on the very weekend we were moving into our house from the apartment we leased while we house-shopped — I came down with sudden, incredibly severe abdominal pain and diarrhea. Followed by blood. I literally pooped solid blood for two days before getting directions to the UM hospital. (Stick with me here, the story will eventually tie in.) I presented to the ER with a highly elevated heart rate, anemic, and with internal bleeding (that pain was my insides hemorrhaging). Four days hospitalized, a range of tests, and a billion biopsies and I received a diagnosis of Crohn’s Disease, was put on meds, scheduled for more tests, and sent home. Before having the attack, we had gone to dinner at Max and Erma’s, a nearby chain restaurant. Paul and I had shared vegetable fajitas and I had (unbottled) water to drink.

About three months later, I returned to the hospital for a follow-up scope. The physician was shocked to find that my colon and large intestine were absolutely perfect: no sign of the illness he’d previously diagnosed. I was so healthy and healed that he reversed his diagnosis, giving me a clean bill of health. We chalked it up to chance occurrence and were thankful.

Exactly one week later, my parents were visiting and we went to dinner… at Max and Erma’s. I had a salad (no dressing), baked potato, and drank water. Two hours after dinner, the incredible pain came back. Followed by blood. By morning, I was back in the hospital. This time the diagnosis was permanent (ulcerative colitis) and was followed by over a year of tests, challenging medications, and eventual healing. The question of what set off the flares would be discussed at length for months — with many jokes about Max and Erma’s. But both times, the only thing that I had which was unique to everyone else was unbottled water. (Incidentally, we’d been there other times before and after when I’d had diet coke without problems.)

After my diagnosis, a friend pointed me to an article that showed a link between molecules living in tap water and flaring of GI disease — specifically, colitis. The study pointed out high levels of chemicals (related to run-off) whose presence in water was a concern. Although we never can be sure, I have always thought that there was a darn good chance that Ann Arbor water (and that odd “smell”) were contributors to my disease… the little nudge that set my stressed body into attack. My thoughts on this issue were brought to mind when I read this post by Fluffy, who specifically talks about endocrine disruptors in the Huron River, Ann Arbor’s water supply.

The point of all of this: water is pretty darn important. And we do really bad things to it.

When I did my coursework in reproductive epidemiology and toxicology, I chose to study herbicides (specifically, glyphosate, the active ingredient in Roundup) as my focused research. I’ll spare the details, but let’s put it this way: if you want to be sterile, give your kids cancer, and just generally be ill, give Roundup a place in your yard. Think that herbicides, pesticides, and fertilizer are good? That their safety has been tested? That you can trust those “family-friendly” labels? Think again. The FDA (the agency responsible for approving use of everything from prescription drugs to cosmetics to pet food to garden chemicals) does not have the resources to test these products themselves. (While I was a student, I remember noting that the FDA’s yearly budget was less than that of the University of Michigan.) Without the funds to conduct the extensive testing necessary for approval, the FDA relies on the companies who MAKE the product to show it’s safety. (Hello, conflict of interest!) That means that the folks who tested glyphosate for market use were HIRED by Monsanto, the company that makes the chemical. Are there serious problems with those studies? You betcha. I’ve read them: scientific method wasn’t on their minds when they were pulling together their data. Have these studies been questioned and refuted by other, more neutral, scientists? Yup. But the product is still on the market. The active and inactive ingredients in Roundup are consistently thought to be endocrine disruptors — although controversial due to the power of Monsanto-sponsored studies and political lobbying. (And the fact that it is very difficult to show clear causation between isolated and interacted environmental chemicals to negative health outcomes.)

Side note: have I mentioned that in studies of male sterility, concentrations of sterile men (those with dysfunction in sperm count, motility and/or morphology) is highest among guys who work as lawn-service technicians for golf courses?

But I digress. There is something a bit closer to home that is making me think about all of this.

On our visit to the park this morning, we were confronted with the incredibly think algae which covers the water in Audubon Park, growing thicker and covering more water as the summer presses on. The algae is part of a chemical reaction occurring in the water, chemicals soaking in from the golf course which surrounds it.

But run-off can make a big environmental impact hundreds, even thousands, of miles from its area of application:

Every late spring, it forms 12 miles off the Louisiana coast and lasts for months: a sprawling, lifeless band of water known as the “dead zone.”

Shrimp trawlers steer clear, knowing the low oxygen in this part of the Gulf of Mexico makes it uninhabitable for fish and other marine life. It starts at the mouth of the Mississippi River and can extend all the way to the Texas border, many years growing to the size of Connecticut.

It’s not a natural phenomenon. Waste water and fertilizer runoff from farms and towns hundreds of miles up the Mississippi pour billions of pounds of excess nutrients into the Gulf, sparking unnatural algae blooms that choke off the oxygen needed for the food chain to survive.

Just as I learned while trying to treat my colitis: there is no perfect medicine, no perfect chemical. You cannot take a medication or use a chemical to treat one symptom without having a negative side-effect occur somewhere else. My response: treat everything as holistically and naturally as possible. In my experience, it’s a win-win.

So as summer descends and we wish for those perfect lawns, consider what you’re putting on them and where it goes. (Also consider that studies have shown that in homes where yards are chemically treated, there is a higher concentration of hazardous chemicals in the carpets of those homes than in the actual grass itself.) Maybe we’d all be a bit healthier if we cared more about the green in our hearts than the green in our lawn.

Issues

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HOT DAMN AND HALLEULAH!!!

I’ve been griping on and off about the incredible WAIT we’ve had with Abeona’s 501c3, a process 1.5 years in the making. This morning, Emmy faxed a request to expedite our application, just one of the many, many, many efforts regularly made to help push our forms along. Someone at the IRS must have actually been awake this morning, because at 3:00 this afternoon, Emmy received the news… not only had our application been expedited: it was APPROVED!!

WE ARE FINALLY A RECOGNIZED 501c3!

That means that all you folks out there who have been WAITING for that tax write-off for your donation (that is why you haven’t donated yet, right?) don’t have to wait any longer!!

(And to those beautiful, generous friends of mine who donated earlier this year… THANK YOU AGAIN and know that your donations are now, officially, tax deductible!)

Learn more about Abeona’s unique history and powerful story on the school website. Read here to learn about how Paul and I became involved.

If you’re looking for other ways to help, Abeona House has a list of needed everyday school items (e.g. paper products, art supplies) and specialty goods (e.g. multi-baby stroller to take the little ones and special needs children on Abeona’s regular community field trips) as well as labor needs (e.g. help with grass cutting, landscaping). Even if you don’t live nearby, consider sponsoring a fund raiser for Abeona House in your community. Please contact me or the school for more information.


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None of it is dirty.

Recent links to coldspaghetti based on the following google search terms:

“artsy fartsy birthday kids”
“maternal mafia”
“spaghetti party”
“balsam hill”
“can dog eat spaghetti”

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About the layout…

… one of these days I’ll be happy with it. Unfortunately, today isn’t one of them. (It must be time for a change… maybe I should get a new hairdo or something to satisfy the itch?)

Comments and suggestions always appreciated!

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It’s a reason we’re all smiling!

Yesterday was a great day. I don’t really need to say much on this, since others have said so much so well. My concern is mostly that Jefferson’s crimes (although seemingly obvious and taken as fact by most of us here in SE Louisiana) will be highlighted in such a way that it (once again) turns discussion to a debate about whether New Orleans is “worthy” city. The media field-day with New Orleans as a flood-target, hurricane-prone, below-sea-level hive of drunkards and thieves who vote for criminals that take advantage of taxpayers is tiring (and misguided). Jefferson’s crimes help to promote this false image, may have the effect of keeping out good business, and possibly make it more difficult for legitimate organizations to get needed support (insert Abeona’s never-ending 1 1/2 years-and-still-going IRS-process for 501c3 status). The bottom line is that wrong-doing happened and this is upsetting because our city doesn’t need anymore black-eyes. But I digress; I said I wasn’t going to wax on.

What I DO want to do is point out this post by Schroeder. He is officially My New Hero. Schroeder saw a dapperly-dressed Jefferson while shopping at Whole Foods and asked him — for an explanation about the $90,000 in his freezer. I complete agree with him; taxpayers and voters deserve an explanation, particularly if the guy is going to keep asserting his innocence. (The story is part way through the post.) In my view, that alone is a bold act worthy of support for the title of ‘new radio station director‘. It’s worth a read.

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Our Force of Nature

At 12 months, Kate can:
— Run. Fast.
— Nod or shake her head to answer “yes” or “no” to questions, with full understanding
— Use the sign for “more” when she wants something… including food, to put on her shoes, to watch a video, to be read a book, or to nurse. She is quite good at being specific.
— Steal her brother’s cup while he’s not looking, run away, and laugh hysterically when he chases her for it.
— Ride a seated scooter-bike (pushing each leg independently, a skill I would not have believed any child her age could physically do until I saw her do it with my own eyes)
— Use (or try to use) a washcloth, hairbrush, toothbrush, and spoon… correctly.
— Climb stairs. Fast.
At 12 months, Kate is having a hard time with:
— Eating.
— Sleeping.

Our first major problem is eating. Although Kate is perfectly happy to sit in a high chair at school and eat everything and anything that comes her way, she will not do so at home. Let me be more clear, it’s more like she ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY NOT ON YOUR LIFE WILL NOT NEVER NO WAY NOT IN THIS LIFETIME! sit in her high chair at home. To say she puts up a fight would be like saying that the fraud, corruption, and malice conducted by William Jefferson against the people of Louisiana were simple mistakes: in other words, it would be a gross underestimation. When Kate does not want to do something, she does not do it. And nothing can make her: Not Even Me.

At dinner time last night, as we contemplated an attempt of the high chair show-down, Paul had an idea. He put Kate in a normal, adult chair at the kitchen table. She sat happily for a Full Minute and ate about a half dozen spoonfuls from a spoon in someone else’s hand. We were mystified and delighted: the scale of which Watson and Crick must have felt when they discovered the double helix. Eureka! Kate just wants to sit at the table. The 12-month old who weighs less than some babies do at birth wants to sit at the table like her parents. Right.

We’re on the hunt for a booster seat. Hopefully, this will give us 60 seconds of dinnertime with Kate, which is about 50 seconds more than we usually get.

This sums up all of our challenges with Kate. She wants to do Everything. Right. Now. Eating and sleeping are optional in the face of exploring The World, or at least, Mommy and Daddy’s tupperware cabinet.

Sleep is more tricky. The current method is to (WARNING: sensitive parents, stop reading this right now) lock her up in her carseat so that she can’t move and try to rock her, squirming and fighting, to sleep. The alternative? Watching her turn into a crazy monster, flying around the house like a maniac, attacking random adults who try to pick her up with flailing limbs and unkept nails, running and laughing and destroying until, without warning, she falls dead asleep on her feet. To be fair, the display makes for great entertainment. But it doesn’t stop there: in her sleep, she flings herself around like a rag-doll, slamming into her crib sides, getting all manners of limbs stuck in between the slats. Because she joins me in bed to nurse, a good portion of the night is spent in a one-sided boxing match with tender parts of my body. Realizing how drastic my lack of sleep was getting made me realize how serious her lack of sleep was… so now I use the carseat. Kate must be physically held down and kept still in order to let herself relax enough to sleep. She’s that keyed up.
One of our friends reminded that babies often go through sleep problems when they are about to have a major developmental milestone. (Note: see the list above. What other milestone could this 12-month old have? Reciting verse? Driving? Swimming the English Channel?) So we are stymied with what else to do. Kate seems so in love with exploring the world that she will not stop long enough to take care of herself, tasks which then fall into our laps. Unfortunately, she is not so keen on anyone else taking care of her, either.

We keep saying that we want to have her seen by the pediatrician, although I’m unsure of what to say. There is no pill that can make a child eat. So ultimately, I think that calling the pediatrician is an attempt at seeking medication. I want Ambien for babies. Is that on the market?

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Not exactly for "Show and Tell"

Will is our little sponge: he eagerly picks up on our phrases, learns the lyrics to songs, and will playfully parrot on request… or whenever he thinks a recitation might be funny.

Will was VERY excited to bring mementos from his Dad’s Grand Canyon Trip for today’s Show and Tell. Before school, he even drew a picture of the Grand Canyon to add to the collection of photographs, river guide, and floppy hat he had already gathered to share. (Extra plus: he wrote his name on the picture after finishing the drawing — first writing “M” for “Mommy,” then turning the paper around to make it a “W” and finishing it off with “I-L-L” to write his name. Genius, anyone?)

On the way to school, we asked Will what he was going to do at school today, thinking we’d catch a glimpse of how he was going to describe Paul’s trip. Instead, he surprised us by answering: “I’m going to tell Mrs. Emmy, ‘she’s a BRICK… HOOOWSE!'”

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Trip Photos

Hopefully, Paul will carve some time to post a few pictures and archive some of his memories of the experience in his blog. Until then, the shutterfly site has some selected pictures — (warning: the album starts with two of Kate… we needed to print a picture for school and I forgot to sort them out) — and only has 80 or so of the 3000+ they took. The pictures on the site are ones that I quickly chose to send with Will for show-and-tell on Monday, and as a result, they heavily feature Paul. Once the bulk are up, I’ll post the link.

At risk of leaving spoilers, here are a few of my favorite stories:
— Hiking up to the Granaries (the guides’ “test”) and the view
— Putting life jackets on like diapers to float down the Little Colorado River, which looked like Willy Wonka’s chocolate pool due to a recent flash flood
— Terrifying 40 or so feet of super narrow slick rock against a tumble-to-your-death chasm to get to upper Deer Creek (I think I would bow out of this one… yikes!)
— Rainbow at the waterfall at lower Deer Creek
— Seeing a “sun dog,” a huge rainbow in a circle around the sun. I never even knew there was such a thing!
— Finding out that the “swamper” (assistant to one of the guides… in this case, her husband) was a long-time flyer for FedEx and knows Melanie’s Dad.
— Hearing that Havasu Creek is really as bright blue and lush as the pictures… “it was like Fantasy Island”
— All three jumping off the high point (about 30′) above Pumpkin Springs, together, into the 55 degree water below
— Learning that my Dad did EVERY hike, waterfall jump, and whatever other activity there was to offer (go Dad!)
— Campfire stories and bonding with new and interesting people while floating down the river
— Hearing Paul say, “It was just how you describe being abroad when I’m not there: all I could think was how I wished you were there and how excited I was in thinking about when we could come back to share it all together.”

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TLM on TOM*

(spoken matter-of-factly, with nose scrunched up in thoughtful reflection)

“My PapPap loves me. He plays games with me. He tickles me. He makes me laugh. He’s my buddy.”

*TLM = The Little Man. TOM = The Old Man

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