Cold Spaghetti

After receiving many stickers for his excellence in this area, Will took it up a notch this week when he brought home a bright and shiny Certificate of Achievement! Signed by his teacher, she writes:

“For recognition of setting an outstanding example of listening and behavior at naptime. Thank you!”

That’s right! Will is Abeona’s Number One NAPPER. Undeniable truth that he is his father’s son.

From Will’s Dictionary:

Burpted. (v.) To make loud belching sound from mouth. Example given: “Mommy, Oscar burp-ted. And he didn’t say ‘excuse me.’ Because he’s a grouch.”

Cafe. (n.) Rhymes with ‘safe.’ The cloth superheros wear around their necks. Example given: “Mommy, please tie my doggie blanket up on my neck because I need a cafe.”

Dive. (v.) The point at which something living, stops living. Somewhat heart-wrenching example given: “Mommy, why did Manx have to dive?” Less heart-wrenching example given: “If you pull the tree out of the dirt and leave it in the air, swoosh swoosh up on the side, it will dive.”

Chairs. (v, used as in salutations.) What you exclaim as you clink together glasses at the end of a toast. Example given: “Raise your glass! And…. CHAIRS!”

From Will’s Encyclopedia:

On mudpies: “You make mudpies with mud. And water. But mud goes first. Then the water. And sometimes it bubbles up! Like pop….pop…pop!”

On swim lessons: “Sometimes you dive to the bottom and you get water in your mouth. It makes me cough a lot.”

On outer space: “Outer space has a sun in it and it’s shining sometimes. Astronauts float with a… with a…. with a string and it’s hard to walk in outer space. Only astronauts can walk on outer space.”

On rocket boosters: “Rocket boosters land in the water and a pirate ship will rescue it and fix it and it will blast off again.”

On seat belts: “There are no seat belts on trains.” (pause) “Are there seat belts on trains? But rockets have seat belts, too. Rockets have seat belts like cars.”

Six out of the last eight mornings have seen Paul and I throw the kids in the Beamer (aka: all terrain dreamy stroller) and gotten out for exercise. I hesitate to use words like “work out,” lest this blissfully indulgent morning time get cut from our busy days. We manage to do this walk, at least a mile each day, in the 6-o-clock hour, returning home to shower and ready the kids for school, leaving promptly after Paul’s daily 8am meeting. Doing these walks each morning is a minor miracle and we’re proud.
Sunday, we decided to mix it up a bit. We combined the dual efforts of walking with cleaning out the freezer (alternate name: place to store stale bread) and brought bags of goodies to feed Audubon Park’s assorted inhabitants.
The biggest challenge was to make sure that Kate didn’t include herself in the list of those being fed; she didn’t really get the concept of feeding the ducks or squirrels food that seemed perfectly good to her.
She did, however, get as much dirt, leaves, mulch, and twigs into her as she could. I’ve always been fascinated with pica — and I’m beginning to wonder if my daughter is an example.
To her credit, she really likes to share.

Baby egrets have hatched. Birds are everywhere. Will took a detailed notice of the birds, in our perch downwind from the island: “I am smelling something yucky.”
(Note, this is not the island — just a bunch of downed twigs. The island is upriver from this picture and is currently covered with hundreds and hundreds of birds — it’s a full-on assault to the eyes, ears, and nose.) See the algae in the water?

When we picked up the kids from school on Friday, we let Kate play in the yard with the Big Kids for a few minutes. This is not something her class gets to do, since eating mulch is usually a bigger draw than actually playing on the toys. Kate surprised me by NOT diving into the mulch (at least at first) and instead going for the see-saw, climbing right up all by herself, and rocking wildly. She was VERY proud of herself, as you can see:
In Will’s words: “She’s our cutie-patootie!”

On this, the day of our 7th wedding anniversary, Paul greeted me in his own special way.

“Need any cortisone?”

“For what?”

“Got a 7-year itch?”

Seven years of these jokes, and yet, I’m nowhere near as insane as one would suspect. And I still have a sense of smell. These must be proof that Paul and I were meant to be together.

Seven? That is a number close to 100, right? Because certainly it takes a number that big to hold all the things that have happened since we got married.

Now we consider our lives in two units. One is the current era, the SITKOM era, where we are essentially defined by a Single Income, Two Kids, Oppressive Mortgage. (To be fair, I do bring in an occasional teaching or consulting check. But truly, SITKOM sounds much better than DITCOM.) The other, previous era is the DINK era, where we were Double Income, No Kids. This is also known as a dream state where we frivolously whiled away our days. Had we known what we know now, we’d have learned four languages, traveled the globe in a kayak twice over, and painted reproductions of Michaelangelo’s Sistine Chapel masterpiece in every room of the house. And don’t even talk about the missed opportunities for sleep.

We’ve lived and learned and now we’re SITKOMs. Somewhat predictable in plot, using a laugh track to keep things moving.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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!

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.

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!!

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.

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”

… 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!