Archive for April, 2009

too day

first of all i want to thank those of you who said hi yesterday and convinced me that i am not the only mom out there with a picky eater and older diaper wearer.  i so appreciate comments.  they make me happy.  maybe that is shallow and a little lame of me but it is true.  truth is good.


so, the 30 day shred dvd arrived.  it is sitting on my coffee table.  when do you think i should start?  i am toying with the idea of diving into the whole thing tomorrow.  i mean, 30 days is a long time, and with some help from victory i got up the guts to try on my bathing suit today.  the color is really nice.  and the combination of a tankini and a skirt bottom does provide a fair amount of coverage.  and, if i use all the strength i have in my body to suck muffy in i look like i might be able to wear this suit in public.  but i wonder, if i have to concentrate that hard on the gut how will i walk, or watch my children, or lay out a healthy snack at the pond.  or, breath.  breathing is pretty important stuff.  


anyway, i don’t want to fall back into the trap of hating muffy.  or hating my body.  or getting all negative about my self image.  there has to be some kind of a balance between wanting change and seeing your beauty just the way you are.  i am sure that balance exists and i just need to find a way to find it.  maybe i should talk to my guides about it.  maybe i should get my hair cut again.  that always seems to help me.


so i have decided it makes sense to try to transition the bean to the detox diet slowly.  we’ll eat up what we have in the house that does not fit into it while simultaneously buying things that do.  and i’ll try to encourage more turkey cheese and carrots and less noodles with cheese.  and at the same time i will focus on getting myself on a healthier diet as well.  more spinach smoothies and less bacon and cream quiche.  


i am not going to stress though.  a mama only has so much energy (especially when her three year old is up three times a night again and her nine month old seems to have forgotten how to sleep longer then two hours).  mama has a lot going on these days and she needs to take good care of herself and not get burned out.  mama needs to figure out how to be healthy without over doing it.  mama needs a little kick in the butt and a nice bear hug too.  gosh, this is a needy mama.


i hope you are all able to see your own beauty.  if you have any great tips pass them along.  i am open to all kinds of help.


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i am a grumpy grump today.  i wish i had suddenly decided to give up everything and he healthy.  i’d like to say i have some bacon and heavy cream and butter in my future to cheer me up but i don’t.  instead i have a bathing suit to try on which will probably only make me grumpier.  and my work out dvd’s arrived today which means i have to start doing them.  boy am i not in the mood to face that.  or face the suit.  but i should try it on while i can still return it if it doesn’t fit.  at all.  did i say sigh yet?  oh yes, i did.  well repeat that.


so far today i have cleaned poop off my couch, and the floor, and a pair of black wool shorts.  why can’t poop just stay in diapers where it belongs?  why is my three year old still in diapers and not using the potty?  why does a three year old who hardly eats anything have the smelliest poop?  why does parenting involve so much smelly poop handling?


i should stop feeling sorry for myself.  it really isn’t that hard to give some things up.  it really shouldn’t be.  and its not like i haven’t survived certain kinds of detoxification and giving things up before.  i am a pretty strong person.  i just need to pull up my bootstraps and be a big girl about it all. and not feel so sorry for myself.  like i said.  its just that i am not in the mood.  i like comforts.  but i have to do what is good for me.  i am hoping in the long run it will be well worth it.  even if the beginning is m.c. sucky suck.  


ok, this post is going nowhere fast.  lets look at something happy intead:


chickpea smiles

chickpea smiles



maybe if i meditate on that for a few minutes i’d get over my funk.  i am going to go take those proven to make you feel better ten deep breaths and call it a day here.  tomorrow i will try to bring my joy self.  sorry people.  sometimes i am just grumpy.

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he eats


he doesn’t eat a whole heck of a lot. this morning i really wanted him to eat before preschool because he won’t eat at preschool and he gets so emotional when his blood sugar is low. so breakfast was —

ok wait, before i tell you this there is no need to write in and tell me about proper nutrition. i am well aware that this does not meet any health requirements and yet i am being brave enough to let you inside the truth of my world and share it. no need to shame me.

so anyway:
1 entenmanns mini powdered donut
8 annies cheddar bunny crackers
small handful of pepitas
small handful of banana chips
9 pieces of pepperoni
1 more mini donut

a few weeks ago i took the kids in for well visits with the holistic family practice doctor we use. we touched again on my concern over the beans dry skin/excema type stuff and also his on and off stammering problem. the doctor brought up the theory that it could all be related to an underlying food allergy or sensitivity and suggested we do a blood draw and do the broad food allergy test. i like the idea that something might be stressing his system and leading to all these minor issues but i do not like the idea of pinning him down for a blood draw.

so, off to the chiropractor to ask her to do some muscle testing and see if we can come up with any answers. the outcome, after today’s visit, his body saying it is irritated by gluten and some dairy and he needs a detoxification. no grains with gluten for six weeks, no dairy for six weeks. not that he eats much, but 90% of what he eats falls into the grains category. sigh.

looks like we have six weeks of “turkey cheese,” cashews, almonds and the occasional baby carrot in our future. who ever would have thunk a food worshipper like myself could raise a child who puts almost nothing in his mouth.

so what do you think? do we try it?

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like i said…


a healthy (in my opinion) recipe.


broccoli and white bean salad with sage dressing.

  • three broccoli crowns
  • 1 can of small white beans
  • 1/2 box of baby lettuce
  • crumbled gorgonzola
  • one lemon
  • one shallot (or two)
  • fresh sage (i used about 1.5 cups loose)
  • salt
  • pepper
  • olive oil


  1. cut the broccoli into bite sized pieces and either steam until just soft or blanch.
  2. run broccoli under cold water to stop cooking and set aside to cool.
  3. rinse the beans well.
  4. while broccoli is cooling chop the shallots into small pieces.
  5. put shallots and sage in food processor.
  6. zest the lemon into the food processor.
  7. squeeze lemon juice into food processor being careful not to get any seeds in.
  8. process shallots, lemon and sage until it is very finely chopped.  then slowly add olive oil until it gets to a nice dressing consistency.  i do like this dressing thickish though.
  9. when dressing is done blending add salt and pepper to taste.
  10. now combine salad greens, beans and cooled broccoli in a large bowl.  sprinkle with crumbled gorgonzola and top with dressing.
  11. eat it.  love it.  if you don’t love it come back here and tell me how you’d tweak it to make it better.



ok i already ate most of it

ok i already ate most of it

i did remember to take a picture but it wasn’t until i had already eaten a fair amount of my serving.  and yes, the salad is really green and the dressing is green so it isn’t very eye popping (i’d have added a red pepper if i had one) but green is good for you and we are all about health here now people.  my peeps.  my fellow heath seeking peeps.


a note, i don’t like to waste any broccoli so i cut the lower parts of the stems into little “coin” sized rounds to have in the salad as well as the floret tops.  i also squeezed a little lemon juice onto the broccoli as it cooled just because i like lemon.  also, i am really into cool dressings these days.  i made enough to use on this salad and have some left over.  its good on almost anything.  i’ve been doing the same with the tahini type dressing from the quinoa salad recipe. making yummy dressing is a pleasing way to be healthy i think.

ok, the chickpea is stirring. happy healthing.

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more health

spring has finally sprung in new england.  or, summer i could say since it is in the 80’s for the second day in a row.  the weather has changed.  and, i think i am ready for some change too.  for one thing, i need to get back to the healthier fare at 101cookbooks and stop letting myself be enticed by bacon and butter over at pw cooking. i love you pw, and my muffin top loves you, and so do my thighs but i am starting to fear there is not a swim suit cute enough to disguise the fact that i am three parts flab and one part cute haircut. so, i have to start eating a little healthier.

ok and now, you can laugh at me if you want, but i have the 30 shred dvd in my cart at amazon. maybe if i pay for it i’ll make myself do it? maybe if i start soon i can make some headway before i have to put on a bathing suit? or at least before the summer ends.

but the point isn’t just to look better really. the point is to feel better. butter and bacon are yummy and have gotten me through many times in life and i am not about to give them up entirely. but, there is something to be said about eating a little lighter. it lightens the heart. and we all know that it is a fact that we are happier if we get some physical exercise. why don’t we do it when we know it is a fact? who knows. but i want to try again. and trying is all you can ask for.

so, mock me, join me, ignore me. whatever suits your mood. but be prepared for some recipes to start showing up on here that include things like vegetables instead of heavy cream. if you have any current favorite healthy eats link me up baby.

happy sunday my friends.

and in woowoo let it be known that the loving universe is holding me and helping me recharge my batteries at night. how splendid of her is that? thank you loving universe.


oh and, i am getting lonely on here again.  if you are out there say hello.  my insecure side wants a comment.  even if the comment says “hi” or “word” or “peace out” or “grottie” or some other slang you grew up with that i have not taken the time to shake hands with yet.

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the beanlette two weeks oldish

the beanlette two weeks oldish



on the bean’s birthday i began writing up a long version of the story of his birth. when i started writing it i didn’t realize i was going to get so drawn out as to make it a multiple post story but it just seemed to happen. so, here is part II for those of you who want to walk through this forest with me.

i was a little more then halfway home from the hospital when my cell phone rang. i had been driving along in near silence having already spoken to flash and my mom about what the first specialist had said. i had been thinking that i should find somewhere to stop and get a sandwich because it was getting to be past lunch time and i had not eaten anything. i was not hungry but i was already an overprotective mama and i thought it might not be good for the baby if i had no real food all day. when i flipped open my phone and said hello it was the kind irish specialist. i immediately pulled over into the town hall parking lot that i was near so i could talk to him without driving, at his direction.

he explained to me that he had spoken with a cardiologist he knew over at children’s who was understanding of my situation and willing to fit me into his schedule this afternoon. i wrote down his fifty three phone numbers and directions on what to tell the secretaries and when to arrive at children’s hospital and where to go. then i hung up the phone and sat in my car. a plan. a specialist who was friends with the first specialist and willing to fit me in. more ultrasound. more driving around. more answers and potentially more news i did not want to hear. i tried to say thank you for fitting me in. i tried to say ok i can handle this, i am calm, i am secure, think positive. i tried not to go spinning off into the most terrible possible outcomes.

i called flash and my mom and we decided that my mom would drive into the city with me and flash would meet us at the hospital. i think i got sandwich’s for myself and my mom, picked her up, and off we went. i was large and i had to pee and i was tired and i was worried. i am not sure how fast we drove or what i ate or how long it took. the next thing i know i was laying on another bed next to another ultrasound machine being prodded by a student, because the children’s hospital is a teaching hospital.

although for the beans pregnancy i was not entirely informed on alternatives to the standard prenatal care we are offered in the united states, i did know that there were some questions about the safety and comfort of ultrasound for the baby. and my baby had already had three normal ultrasounds at 5 weeks, 20 weeks and 34 weeks. then he had been through about 45 minutes of ultrasound just a few hours ago during which i had felt sensations in my belly that i was certain was my child trying to move as far away from the ultrasound as possible. and now, here i was, with a student.

he had no bedside manner to speak of. he asked me to lift my shirt and lower my waist band and then he pulled over the machine and gelled up my belly and got to work. he was using the standard ultrasound “wand” i had had used on me before. a flat piece about 1 inch by 3 inches pressed into my belly at various angles. he was not gentle or soothing. he was silent and he pushed the wand in hard and i just kept trying to breath and remember i needed this for a diagnosis. the pressure i had felt in my belly that i thought was my bean trying to escape ultrasound continued. the student silently assaulted us with the the ultrasound wand. we all stared at the screen. i kept a loose eye on the clock daring myself to withstand two more minutes, then five, then one, then three – certain it couldn’t go on much longer. after an hour of pushing dragging and pinching my belly with the ultrasound wand the student turned the lights on and told us, “i can’t get a clear picture. i will go get the doctor.”

an hour. an hour of exposing my baby to ultrasound. of me feeling sick laying still on my back at 35 weeks pregnant. of you poking at me like i was a something with no feeling in my body. of silence and wondering and worry and pain and you can’t see anything. i was angry and hopeless and i thought to myself, “i don’t know if i can do anymore of this.” i was seriously considering telling the real doctor that i couldn’t take it and we’d have to come back. i had a ten minute break. my mom told me to get up off the table. she rubbed my back a little. she had me stretch a little. she hugged me and brought me back to life a little. i knew i couldn’t bow out now so when the doctor came in with a huge smile and a south african accent i tried to let him warm my mood a little. he acknowledged that i probably didn’t want more poking but told me it had to be done. i hunkered down, exposed my belly and my baby once again, and locked my jaw.

the specialist switched out the wand on the ultrasound machine so that he was using one that was shaped more like a pen with a very small point. he tried my lower belly on both sides and then right above my belly button but he was not getting the view he needed. the belly was responding with the escaping bean feeling and i was watching the clock constantly asking myself to do five more minutes before i lost i mind and told him stop. then, he stuck his pen wand into my belly button. it felt a lot like someone poking you as hard as they could on a really fresh bruise. i gasped and my eyes filled with tears. “sorry,” the doctor told me, “but this is the view i need.” he pushed in a little harder and the tears slipped down the side of my face and i was all at once angry, and embarrassed, and overwhelmed to breaking. it didn’t take him long and he was done.

“how many weeks are you?” he asked me.

“thirty fiveish,” i answered.

“well you are having so many contractions, i doubt you’ll be making it to forty.”

i took a minute to sink in. the feeling i had that my baby was hiding he was calling contractions. i had no idea who was correct. he asked me to get cleaned up and “dressed” and meet him in his office to talk about what he had seen. and so that is what i did. wiped my belly clean. patted my baby a little bit. sat until the light headedness from being on my back for over an hour cleared. then hoisted myself to my feet and looked at flash and my mom and said i was ready. and we trooped into his little office and took up all his extra chairs and he started talking and drawing and explaining to me in the gentlest way he could what he had seen.

and i couldn’t hear a word of what he said over the rushing in my ears. and i hoped that someone else in the room was taking this all in because all i was hearing was my own heart beating, racing, freezing, breaking, beating. my hands were on my belly and i am fairly sure that i was smiling in that way you do when you think you might be about to break open in public and your chest is caving in and you can’t breath and so there is nothing to do but pretend you are totally fine and plaster a smile on your face. my mom looked worried, flash looked professional, the doctor was drawing a diagram for us on his marker board. i was lost. i was sinking. i was fighting. i was breathing. i was growing a baby in there and he had a diagnosis that changed everything.

“a possible heart coacrctation.”

and with that, my world changed. the hospital i would birth at changed. my baby would be taken from me at birth to spend days in the nicu until his diagnosis was confirmed. if he had a “coarc” (as it was referred to) he would need surgery at just a few days old.

“but he will live?” i kept asking. “he will live. really, worst case scenario he needs surgery but he will live? he will live? he will live?”

and this doctor who lives in the world of heart complications and disease and not in the heart of a pregnant mother, as kind as he was, assured me “oh yes, this is a good diagnosis.”

separation at birth. possible surgery. a good diagnosis. my life changed. my heart ached. my mind raced. and i was silent.

time to leave again. another hospital to walk out of. another car ride home. and another truth to make peace with in my darkness. nothing to do but waddle through the fog and make my way home. and try to find a way to see some light and thank the universe for a good diagnosis. a good diagnosis. a good diagnosis.

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