I got sick on Wednesday night with a freaky intestinal virusy thing. I’ll spare you the details. Yesterday I was still sick—shaky, weak, and so sleepy from having been up half of the previous night. I pawned my baby off on gracious friends Parnasus and T for a couple of hours in the morning. (Thank you wonderful ladies!) I slept while he was gone, and worked for an hour. After I picked him up at aroung 1:30 p.m., I put the both of us to bed. We slept for three hours straight. In a way, it’s not surprising that I needed that much sleep to recover, but it’s a bloddy MIRACLE that Asher cooperated so that I could. (He sleeps better with me than alone, a habit I’ve ingrained in him and one that eventually I will regret, but for now it’s the right thing.)

In two days my weight decreased 4.6 pounds. That’s what dehydration will do for ya! Quick, call Hollywood! 

Anyway, I’m much better today. I can think and move around. My appetite is back. But damned if Asher doesn’t feel heavier than usual!

To NoNoSays, who has been my inspiration more times than I can count, who has held my hand through some fucked-up shit, who has taught me that strong is sexy and that I absolutely can, who has been there for me every time I’ve ever asked her to—even for a mysteriously awful, hopefully-never future catastrophe, 

Darling, I wish you an amazing birthday of happiness and glory, grace and revelry. I love you.

To Frostee, whose creativity knows no bounds, who can have fun anywhere at any time, who’s thoughtful and giving, who’s brave in the face of pain and adversity, who has captured for me priceless family moments, and who deserves health and wellness as well as security and fun,

Sweetpea, I hope your birthday is stupendous and ridiculous in that special way that you love. I love you.

xoxoxo 

Happy Birthday to our dear Tox  and our dear Heff. Their individual ingenuity, brilliance, and loyalty are unique on this planet. I am honored to have been able to call them my friends for nearly 20 years. I hope your birthdays are joyful, relaxing, and enlivened by bevies of hot women. 

xoxo

I’ve just finished tucking my 5-year-old in for the night. We have an elaborate but working bedtime ritual (bath or shower, brushing teeth and hair, stories, candle prayer with all of us, lights out, songs and cuddles with mommy) that begins just after dinner and ends with me creeping out of the room in the dark. I sing the same eight songs every night. Then I choose from one to six others in a regular rotation—I’m just wacky enough to mix ‘em up once in a while! (Yes, I am a rockstar.)

The second-to-last song is always “Rock-A-Bye Baby.” I used to not sing this song to Lucas, but he started asking for it about a year ago. I figured one of his teachers sang this song at naptime. The last song is always “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” This one is by far his favorite lullaby.

Tonight Lucas asked me, “Does the baby really fall out of the tree, Mommy?” And I was left momentarily speechless. Because … well, I KNOW! What a terrible thing to sing to a small child! This is exactly why I chose not to sing it for so long! 

I said, lamely, “Well, it’s a way of saying the baby falls asleep.”

The internet says:

The words and lyrics to this nursery rhyme are reputed to reflect the observations of a young pilgrim boy in America who had seen Native Indian mothers suspend a birch bark cradle from the branches of a tree enabling the wind to rock the cradle and the child to sleep. The rhyme also hold a warning on the choice of bough!

Wikipedia elaborates. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rock-a-bye_Baby

(author unknown)

Rock-a-bye, baby
In the treetop
When the wind blows
The cradle will rock
When the bough breaks
The cradle will fall
And down will come baby
Cradle and all

Baby is drowsing
Cosy and fair
Mother sits near
In her rocking chair
Forward and back
The cradle she swings
And though baby sleeps
He hears what she sings

From the high rooftops
Down to the sea
No one’s as dear
As baby to me
Wee little fingers
Eyes wide and bright
Now sound asleep
Until morning light 

I think I’ll try to learn the two last verses.

Hi folks. Just a quick note to say we’re home safe and sound. We had an easy drive over the summit and down the hill today. Only one 20-minute traffic delay due to road work. We left the cabin at around noon; it was sunny and the snow was melting quickly and falling in spectacular splatty splashes off the tree limbs. We had a yummy lunch in Placerville and trooped around town on foot for a while to stretch our legs. (Attention Yarn Hos: Lofty Lou’s is a nice shop! http://www.knit.us/)

Now it’s rustle-Lucas-off-to-bed-time so he can get to school tomorrow. 
 

It has been snowing steadily for days. In the almost-week that we’ve been here, I think we’ve received at least three feet of snow. It is both inspiring and challenging. Somehow the snowy landscape makes me feel contemplative. And hungry, but whatever.Our lovely friends kittiliscious, her man J, and mrplanet4 left this morning to make their way home. Ian and I have decided that it will be better for all of us if we take an extra day to wait out this big storm and not try to transport two bored little boys over the summit and home again while fighting weather and traffic the whole time. I’m happy with 2-hour drives home; I’m not at all crazy about 4-hour drives. I keep staring out the window and marveling at how ethereal the woods look. The light is bluish and it makes the evergreens look nearly black. Both the sky and the ground are the same brilliant white. Heavy pillows of snow burden every limb and branch. The palette is completely monochromatic. The road is invisible, despite the snowplow’s several daily visits. Two-foot icicles hang from the eaves; their shape is spiraled, like unicorn horns. Inside we are snug and warm. Our kitchen is well-stocked with food, so we could easily stay another several days if we needed to. We have everything to make our stay comfortable, including a clothes washer and dryer and dishwasher. We just ran out of vodka, however.  We have passed many happy hours this week playing in the snow, taking walks or “trudges,” playing games, drawing, sewing, creating toys, and reading. Lucas was thrilled to have our friends join us, for they provided a patient (sometimes eager) audience for him. He strove to impress them with his skills, his expertise, his humor, and his antics. I am amazed at his ability to interact with adults. He can be suave: “Kat, you could come and sit beside me, if you want.” He can be charming: “Justin, that was so fun riding on the saucer yesterday. It was awesome! Do you want to pull me along like that now?” He can act so grown up: “Don’t disturb me right now. I’m doing important homework and I can’t be disturbed.” Asher was nervous when we first arrived, but has settled into these surroundings beautifully. I was very happy that he hasn’t been especially attracted to the gas stove in the middle of the main room as it’s been on almost constantly and it’s very hot. It took him several days, but yesterday he realized that he was capable of climbing the stairs all the way to the top floor where we’ve all been sleeping. He was so proud of himself when he reached the top landing, he clapped for himself and squealed. Since then, he’s done it a bunch of times, and I wonder what it must be like to crawl up stairs like that: What if I encountered a staircase like this in the same scale? Would I want to climb it over and over again? Every new accomplishment delights him. He is learning at every moment. Asher is not walking yet, but is beginning to “creep” along while leaning on the furniture. He is fascinated with the snow that he can see outside, but is not too keen on touching it. He despises his snowsuit, but seems to like the snowflakes falling on his face.  Today when we went out to play, Asher seemed to be more comfortable in the snow, sitting in it and batting at it. There’s so much powder I can easily imaging putting him down and losing him in a drift. We have our Ergo carrier with us; obviously a stroller is pretty much useless. But man, with all the snow gear on us and on Asher, he’s really hard to lug around. For a brief time we were able to put Lucas on a saucer and Asher on Lucas and tow them along the road. We received a few dazzling smiles from both of them as a reward for our effort. Lucas is very brave, even when he slips and falls on the ice. He enjoys saucering a lot. It’s clear that his smaller body must work harder to plow through the snow drifts. He presses on because he wants to squeeze as much fun out of the experience as possible. His face glows with melted snowflakes and rosy cheeks. But when he tires, emotions run high and he demands hot cocoa. I am so happy that we can spend time in this glorious landscape and give him this experience.  

We are up at the cabin in South Lake Tahoe right now. Have been since Tuesday afternoon. It’s been totally lovely—snow keeps falling and blanketing the world. Lucas was a little sick for a while, but he’s better now. Some beautiful friends have joined us for the weekend. They’re all outside playing at the moment. I’m stuck inside because Asher’s napping. S’OK though because he’s sweet. I’ll post more about our week up here later on.

I’ve done a bit of work on and off this week, but nothing too strenuous. I’m trying to figure out what direction I want my career to move in. I’m pondering some possibilities while wondering where my next freelance gig will come from. I can tell you this: I like being unplugged from a corporate schedule and I have a hard time imagining ever going back to one. Working in the mountains, when I choose to, sure beats a daily commute to Cubesville. 

It’s funny when the winds of change blow into town. So much of my life is carefully circumscribed right now. It’s hard to know what is just a momentary wish and what might be a deeper yearning for real change.

http://www.consumeraffairs.com/news04/2008/02/plastic_toys2.html 

I’ve been doing a lot of crawling around on the Interwebs lately. I’ve been learning about some icky stuff that they put in … well … everything, but in particular in children’s toys. Like teething toys. That babies. Put in. Their. Mouths.

Ian, who is smarter than me—or at least better at adding 2 and 2 together—just asked me, “What about pacifiers?”

Oh crap. 

Dear God, 
Please, PLEASE do not let me find out that creepy dangerous chemicals are in the pluggies that I lovingly place in my baby’s eager, sucking mouth multiple times every day. I really cannot live without pluggies. They are the life raft I leap to regularly to save my sinking sanity. They are the balm to my weary, hounded soul. I cannot make it without pacifiers. My nipples won’t survive. My jangled nerves will jangle their last.Please. Please.

Synchronicity is a bitch. Ya know? Just last Friday I bought a book called Toxic Sandbox (http://www.amazon.com/Toxic-Sandbox-Environmental-Toxins-Childrens/dp/039953363X/ref=sr_1_8?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1203382169&sr=1-8). So far, I’ve read the lead chapter and I’m halfway through the mercury chapter. Guess what the next chapter is! Yep. Plastics, including phthalates. 

It seems phthalates are implicated in smaller scrotums, smaller penises, undescended testicles, reduced sperm count, reduced testosterone, testicular caner, liver cancer, and damaged kidneys IN RODENTS. It seems that these chemicals “feminize” babies and small children. The EU has banned products containing phthalates.

So, my gut reaction right now is to go buy a lead testing kit and to throw away every single plastic item in my home. Not sure how much will be left in my home if I do this. Dammit. 

See? There IS a reason (beyond aesthetics) I’ve been asking for and buying wooden toys for my boys for years.

My mother and I just spoke on the phone. She told me that last night, some asshole deliberately drove his van into my mother’s church—the church I was raised in, the church where I had First Communion, where I was confirmed. He smashed through huge outer doors and a set of inner doors, took out an entire bank of pews, drove around the altar and stopped just short of the grand piano. Bastard is lucky that he didn’t drive up onto the altar because it is made of a multiton rock and a huge concrete tabletop combo that could have killed him had he smashed into it. 

Mom says she heard that he was mad at God.

Dude. 

Everybody’s mad at God. That’s a lame excuse for pulling a dumbass stunt like this one.

I am angry about this vandelism. Although I do not consider myself to be Catholic anymore, I have some fond feelings for the parish in which I was raised. No matter how long I’ve been away from it, I will still think of St. John Vianney parish as a religious “home” of sorts. 

I’ve added other religious “homes” into my world since I left the Church—my community, Thiasos, Adelphai, Ta Gynekaia Mysteria and Big Sur, the North Sands beach in St. Andrews Scotland, Burning Man, and more recently, the Unitarian Universalist Society of Sacramento. 

Yet I am shocked and offended that this happened.

Here is the Sacramento Bee story:
http://www.sacbee.com/101/story/719422.html

Deputies say driver targeted Rancho Cordova church

Published 1:50 pm PST Sunday, February 17, 2008

A van plowed through front doors of a Rancho Cordova church late Saturday night, smashing pews, crashing into a wall and coming to rest near the altar.

Saint John Vianney Church at Coloma Road and Chardonay Drive was badly damaged, and services were held Sunday in the church hall.

Father Martin Moroney was asleep in his residence at 10:45 p.m., the time of the crash. He said a witness told him the driver appeared to aim for the building.

“A lady saw man drive through the church lawn,” the priest said. “Next thing, she saw him guiding it for the church doors. He had to accelerate. He just blew up everything before him.”

Sacramento Sheriff’s spokesman Sgt. Tim Curran said Harold David Zequeda, 28, was booked on charges of vandalism of a religious property, a felony, and driving with suspended license.

Curran said the man purposefully drove his Ford Windstar van into the church.

“We do believe he did it intentionally,” Curran said. “It wasn’t an accident”

No one was injured in the incident. The church was locked for the night and no one was inside, Moroney said.

http://www.sciencealert.com.au/news/20081102-16879.html

Breast milk contains stem cells

Monday, 11 February 2008

By Catherine Madden Mammary stem cells (red/blue) and differentiated adult mammary cells (green) isolated from human breast milk.  The Perth scientist who made the world-first discovery that human breast milk contains stem cells is confident that within five years scientists will be harvesting them to research treatment for conditions as far-reaching as spinal injuries, diabetes and Parkinson’s disease. But what Dr Mark Cregan is excited about right now is the promise that his discovery could be the start of many more exciting revelations about the potency of breast milk. He believes that it not only meets all the nutritional needs of a growing infant but contains key markers that guide his or her development into adulthood. “We already know how breast milk provides for the baby’s nutritional needs, but we are only just beginning to understand that it probably performs many other functions,” says Dr Cregan, a molecular biologist at The University of Western Australia. He says that, in essence, a new mother’s mammary glands take over from the placenta to provide the development guidance to ensure a baby’s genetic destiny is fulfilled. “It is setting the baby up for the perfect development,” he says. “We already know that babies who are breast fed have an IQ advantage and that there’s a raft of other health benefits. Researchers also believe that the protective effects of being breast fed continue well into adult life. “The point is that many mothers see milks as identical – formula milk and breast milk look the same so they must be the same. But we know now that they are quite different and a lot of the effects of breast milk versus formula don’t become apparent for decades. Formula companies have focussed on matching breast milk’s nutritional qualities but formula can never provide the developmental guidance.” It was Dr Cregan’s interest in infant health that led him to investigate the complex cellular components of human milk. “I was looking at this vast complexity of cells and I thought, ‘No one knows anything about them’.” His hunch was that if breast milk contains all these cells, surely it has their precursors, too? His team cultured cells from human breast milk and found a population that tested positive for the stem cell marker, nestin. Further analysis showed that a side population of the stem cells were of multiple lineages with the potential to differentiate into multiple cell types. This means the cells could potentially be “reprogrammed” to form many types of human tissue. He presented his research at the end of January to 200 of the world’s leading experts in the field at the International Conference of the Society for Research on Human Milk and Lactation in Perth. “We have shown these cells have all the physical characteristics of stem cells. What we will do next is to see if they behave like stem cells,” he says. If so, they promise to provide researchers with an entirely ethical means of harvesting stem cells for research without the debate that has dogged the harvesting of cells from embryos. Further research on immune cells, which have also been found in breast milk and have already been shown to survive the baby’s digestive process, could provide a pathway to developing targets to beat certain viruses or bacteria.