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.

So last night was weird.

And fun.

And this morning I’ve flip-flopped between feeling embarrassed and giddy.

I met my mother for coffee and a mini shopping trip. I took Asher along of course. 

I got him dressed. 

Well, I took him in the outfit he slept in. But I put socks and shoes and a coat and hat on him.

I got myself dressed. 

We drove to meet mom. We chatted and drank coffee. 

Asher cooed at the passing people.

They cooed back at him.

We shopped a bit.

I drove home and put Asher to bed for a nap.

I worked while he slept.

I crept around the house silently.

He woke.

We played.

We ate lunch at around 2 p.m.

I mused about last night while he ate dried blueberries and bits of lunchmeat.

I looked over to where I had removed and left my black boots earlier while Asher was sleeping.

Two.

Different.

Black.

Boots.

Oy.

Thank you, Mars, for pointing this out to me!

So, Ian and I have a date to go to a new restaurant owned by Mason Song, called Maritime Seafood and Grill, in Carmichael on Saturday  (http://www.sacbee.com/117/story/423116.html), so today, Valentine’s Day, isn’t the romantic, knock-your-cock-ring-off kind of day the diamond stores would have us think it is. (But don’t get me wrong—I got nothin’ against cock rings or diamonds!)

We have celebrated—but we did it with our kids. Late last night, I made a path of red, pink, and light pink paper hearts from Lucas’s bedroom to the kitchen table, and from our bedroom to the kitchen. I set out red placemats, a red candle, a Valentine’s balloon, and homemade Valentines at each place setting. I set out the heart-shaped egg molds, but forgot that we were out of eggs. No worries! Yogurt, chicken nuggets, and cereal for Lucas and quesadillas for us are a perfect way to celebrate Valentine’s Day!

When Lucas woke this morning, he came into our bedroom as usual and whispered, “Dad, there’s something special in the living room. Come see!” It wasn’t until the lights were on that he realized the paper hearts on the floor lead all the way to the kitchen. “Theres even a heart on my chair!” he said. We had a nice breakfast together, with only a moderate amount of “Get your clothes on!” and “No! My foot hurts!” drama. Five-year-olds are weird.

Today at school, Lucas enjoyed a Valentine’s Day party, complete with a story, a cookie, and a special dance. “Everyone fell down!” he said. “Even Miss Johnson! And Ripley, but I caught her. I saw that she was going to fall down so I went over and caught her.” (Lucas has a crush on Ripley, I think.)

He brought home Valentines that he made at school and a Valentine crown. He also brought out the Valentine that he made last week with grandma VoVo, which he’s kept hidden in his room, and gave it to us. They are all very cute and he was very proud of them. We talked about how on Valentine’s Day, we make sure that the people we love know we love them. 

EDIT: I forgot to mention that Ian went grocery shopping to buy a special (last-minute) dinner, too. Good thing he called home before he checked out! He brought home a beautiful bouquet of flowers to grace our dinner table.

I took the kids grocery shopping late this afternoon to buy supplies for a special (last-minute) dinner. I cooked London Broil with mushrooms and onions and salad. I bought big, fat (heart-like) strawberries and whipped up some cream for dipping. Ian made me two cosmos and then poured a lovely red wine with dinner. So, halfway through the meal I realized that I was totally tipsy and thoroughly enjoying myself. “Watch out, mom! If you have too many cosmos, you might get drunk and then you can’t drive a car!” Lucas informed me. I told him I wasn’t going anywhere. The strawberries and whipped cream after dinner were a big hit. We all laughed  a lot and even Asher ate two strawberries.

So, in the midst of our “normal” weeknight routine of dinner prep, cleanup, shower, stories, and bed, I ended up being drunk and goofy. Ian and I got romantic while Lucas showered and Asher (unbeknownst to us) splashed in the toilet. 

Oh. Shit! Not supposed to get frisky while the baby splashes in the toilet! That’s on the special Only Bad Parents Do These Things list. Ooops. Dammit, Ian, weren’t you supposed to buy those toilet locks?!

We moved on to stories (Days wth Frog and Toad) and cuddles for Lucas and drunk mama. We sang and snuggled and professed our undying, immeasurable love for one another. Asher crawled into Lucas’s room looking for me while we were cuddling—not something that usually happens.

So, now we get to try to coax Asher to sleep before Ian and I can make love. Hopefully, the baby will fall asleep before I do, but after several worrisome, sick-baby, wakeful nights, I’d say it’s now about even odds.

I promised I’d get permission before I posted this one, so we’ll see if Ian lets it pass.

Sometimes being a parent and a woman madly in love with her husband results in crossed wires and surreal nights. Oh. I think I hear Ian behind the bar shakin’ up another cosmo.
 

My baby is SICK! He developed a barky cough on Sunday during the night. Monday he was clearly sick and had a slight fever. Monday night and in the wee hours of this morning he was miserable, struggling to breathe, unable to sleep and crying without making much noise—just a hoarse, pathetic, croaking sound. The doctor’s office couldn’t see him until 3:30 today. His pulse-ox was pretty good—96. I hate the diagnoses where “supportive care” is about all anyone can do. They did give him a single-dose oral steroid, which I don’t much like but I know how awful not breathing feels and I want him to get whatever relief they can give. Otherwise, humid air is about all we can do for him. Poor baby is sad and clearly miserable. They said, “Keep him comfortable and happy.” Crying and agitation will make him feel and breathe worse. He is a far cry from happy.

http://www.kidshealth.org/parent/infections/bacterial_viral/croup.html
Signs and Symptoms

Croup is characterized by a loud cough that may sound like the barking of a seal and may be accompanied by fast or difficult breathing and sometimes a grunting noise or wheezing while breathing.

At first, a child may have cold symptoms like a stuffy or runny nose for a few days and may also have fever. As the upper airway (the lining of the windpipe and the voice box) becomes progressively inflamed and swollen, the child may become hoarse, with a harsh, barking cough.

If the upper airway becomes swollen to the point where it is partially blocked off, it becomes even more difficult for a child to breathe. This happens with severe croup. With severe croup, there may be a high-pitched or squeaking noise when breathing in (this is called stridor). A child will tend to breathe very fast, and the stomach or the skin between the child's ribs may seem to pull in during breathing. The child may also appear pale or bluish around the mouth because he is not getting enough oxygen.

Symptoms of croup often worsen at night and when the child is upset or crying. In addition to the effects on the upper airway, the infections that cause croup can result in inflammation further down the airway, including the bronchi (breathing tubes) and the lungs.

Contagiousness

Croup tends to occur in outbreaks in the winter and early spring when the viruses that usually cause it peak. Many children who come in contact with the viruses that cause croup will not get croup, but will instead have symptoms of a head cold.

Diagnosis

Doctors can usually diagnose croup by looking for the telltale barking cough and stridor, the squeaking sound on inhaling. They will also check the child for fever, cold symptoms (like a runny nose), or a recent viral illness, and ask questions to find out if the child has a prior history of croup or upper airway problems.

If the child's croup is severe and slow to respond to treatment, a neck X-ray may also be taken to rule out any other reasons for the breathing difficulty, such as a foreign object lodged in the throat or epiglottitis (an inflammation of the epiglottis, the flap of tissue that covers the windpipe). Typical findings on an X-ray if a child has croup includes the top of the airway narrowing to a point, which doctors call a steeple sign.

Treatment

Most, though not all, cases of viral croup are mild. Breathing in moist air seems to relieve many of the symptoms. Doctors will also sometimes treat with steroids, which helps with the airway swelling.

One way to humidify the air is with a cool-mist humidifier. Having your child breathe in the moist air through the mouth will sometimes break a croup attack. Or try running a hot shower to create a steam-filled bathroom where you can sit with your child for 10 minutes. Try cuddling and reading a bedtime story while doing this to help calm your child.

Sometimes, during cooler months, taking your child outside for a few minutes can help break the attack because the cool air can shrink the swollen tissues lining the airway. Parents can also try driving the child in the car with the windows down to bring in cool air.

If your child has croup, consider sleeping overnight in the same room to provide close observation. If you are not able to break your child's fast breathing and croupy cough, call your child's doctor or seek medical attention as soon as possible.

Medical professionals will need to evaluate your child if the croup appears serious or if there's any suspicion of airway blockage or bacterial infection. Medications such as epinephrine or corticosteroids may be given to reduce swelling in the upper airways. Oxygen may also be given, and sometimes a child with croup will remain in the hospital overnight for observation. As with most illnesses, rest and plenty of fluids are recommended.

Duration

The symptoms of croup generally peak 2 to 3 days after the symptoms of infection start. Croup resulting from viral infection usually lasts less than a week.

Complications

The vast majority of children recover from croup with no complications. Rarely, some children will develop complications such as ear infection or pneumonia.

Work at the magazine this week went well. I was brave and gracious. I talked to all my (ex-) coworkers about the changes at the magazine and my services as proofreader being discontinued. At least to my face everyone was sorry about it and regretful. The editor promises me that I’m the one they’ll call back when the economics are better. She referred to having me working on the magazine a “luxury.” Probably what will happen is that the in-house people will be asked to work more and harder. An editorial employee who is my friend also got cut: She still has a job, but they demoted her to receptionist (and canned the receptionist they had) and cut my friend’s pay. A few other people in different departments were affected (i.e., let go). They have also cut their freelance budget by what sounds to me like a big number, but given that I have no idea what the budget was or what it is now, it’s hard for me to say.

So, we’ll see. I guess they gotta do what they gotta do to stay healthy and weather the economic changes in the region. I must say though, it’s kind of ironic (correct word choice?) that I consistently read about all the wonderful, progressive, exciting things that are happening in this town in the pages of this magazine, which is presently reacting to an economic downturn. Anyway, Monday will be my last day there.

I’ve come to find the silver lining in this change: It’s kinda hard on Asher to have me leave him with a sitter or grandma for 3 to 4 days in a row, when the rest of the month he’s with me constantly. He has survived, of course, but by Friday evening, it was clear that he wanted and needed some mama time. Now I won’t have to do that anymore. I will still need babysitting, but I can arrange it on my own terms and hopefully establish a more consistent rhythm for him—one that he can actually get used to—that doesn’t have 27 days between sets of sitter days. As he is coming into The Great Separation Anxiety Stage, this will be easier on him.

Last Thursday, my father turned 62. That is hard to believe. In my mind, he is still 40. He probably will always be that age in my mind. A friend recently lost her father to cancer. He was older than my dad is—a doctor who practiced medicine up until his end. I can see how hard losing her last parent has been on her. Her plight has inspired some morbid thoughts.

I am thoroughly enjoying the drawing classes that Ian and I are taking on Thursday nights. The teacher is teaching in a loose, intuitive way, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t. But the true gift of the class is that we 1) leave our home and kids and assorted real-life distractions, 2) go to a studio/gallery where we are surrounded by art and things to draw, and 3) there are two and a half glorious hours with nothing else to do except drink tea. We are hoping to continue the classes for the next couple of months, or for as long as our babysitters are willing to watch our kidlings. Ian has really caught the bug. He’s been practicing at home, which is wonderful to see because while he’s drawing, he’s not worrying. I love this guy so much. I hate to see him worried. It has been very good for us to have this time together and share this artistic pursuit. I can’t wait to paint!

My brother and his girlfriend, Courtney, recently got back from a vacation in Mexico. It sounds like they had a super time. I think this is Jonathan’s first serious vacation in years. I’m happy for them both. I just love seeing them together and it is my sincerest hope that they continue to make each other happy.

We spent a lovely couple of hours with friends last night. It was refreshing and made me so happy to see them.