Just Margaret

The Long Road to Diagnosis

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Mon, 28 Jul 2014 18:00:00 +0000

I watched her as she opened the refrigerator that early summer day. The light from inside the box reflected off her ever-more prominent cheekbones and clavicles. She grabbed the lemonade and filled a 24 oz tumbler. Dropping in some ice cubes, she proceeded to drink 3/4 of the cup's contents without coming up for air. Topping off her drink before returning the carton to the fridge, she then pulled cold cuts out of the fridge and began making herself a sandwich. She devoured the ham and cheese, chugged down more lemonade, and rounded out the meal with two servings of chips and a huge apple. Ten minutes later, she was back--for grapes. Then again, not long after, for an ice cream sandwich. The carton of lemonade was gone long before the sun ever went down.

When she was a baby, she had a pattern of all of a sudden ramping up her appetite and sleeping much more than usual. Such a change in habits always preceded a serious growth spurt. She had been sleeping a lot more than usual that spring, which I attributed to her increased activity and joining the Track & Field team, but it continued into the hazy summer days. "She's practically a teenager," I thought to myself, and even said to my husband on more than one occasion, "No wonder she's sleeping so much."

When school was out, I sent her to camp--which she hated. The counselor didn't like her. The activities were stupid. I didn't pack enough for lunch. She was always hungry and they'd only let her eat at snack and at lunch. She didn't have any friends there. It was too hot. It was rainy. It was boring.

But it wasn't just camp. You name it, she had a problem with it. If we looked at her crosseyed, she'd cry, and then stomp off to her room because she "hated everyone in this stupid family!" Spilled water equaled a teary meltdown. A sarcastic comment from her brother, and there was yelling and slamming doors. Sounds like your typical practically-a-teenager, doesn't it?

I observed her becoming more and more slender. One of my sisters was incredibly skinny growing up, so I just figured she was taking after her aunt. But that day when she grabbed the lemonade from the fridge, for a split second in my mind's eye, there flashed an image. An image of my mother, skin taught across the bones of her face as she waged her waning battle against cancer. It was gone as quickly as it appeared.

The summer continued on. We had a family trip scheduled at the end of July, so I had a lot of work to do getting us ready to be away for 10 days. Periodically, I fretted about my daughter's health. She seemed OK. Yes, she was slimmer than ever, but she was eating like horse. I'll admit to eavesdropping on her much more than once when she was in the bathroom: sometimes I feared she might be bulimic, but there was never any indication that was happening.

When we boarded the plane for Houston, we were excited to spend some time with family and I was eager for the kids to experience a new region of the country...they'd never been out of New England. Little did I know that this trip was going to be a memorable experience for reasons I never imagined.

***To Be Continued***

Promised & Delivered

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Wed, 23 Jul 2014 19:30:00 +0000

While wandering through the local big-box retailer the other day, I stopped and perused the nail polish. I needed a pedicure (or at least a fresh coat of color to distract from the fact that I would [still] need a pedicure).

I noticed a Sally Hansen line of polishes called "InstaDry". Dubious, I looked for a color for my tootsies, figuring at the very least, I'd get some color--Stat! I did not expect the polish to deliver its touted "One-Coat" and "Quick-Dry" properties. I mean, their "Hard as Nails" products have only ever been as hard as my own nails--that is, not hard at all. Another gimmick, I figured, to get me to buy their product over others.

I'd wadded T.P. between my toes to keep 'em separate while I painted, and assumed I'd be hobbling around with splayed toes for twenty or so minutes after the application. However, by the time I was done with tootsie #10, the first one was dry. Really dry--and not just to the touch. After only one coat my toes looked fab. In ten minutes I was on my way.

No fuss, no muss, no smears and no dings.

Best $4.97 I've spent in there since I splurged on Terro a few years back.

***

Disclosure: This is not a sponsored post. Sally Hansen and company don't really care about my opinion, and they certainly didn't solicit my review.

Smackdown in Podunk|Turkeys Gone Wild

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Tue, 22 Jul 2014 14:00:00 +0000

If you've got four minutes, and would like to see nature in all its glory, have I got a clip for you!

Here in Podunk, we have a bevy of wild turkeys and right now they are busy chasing all their peeping poults around, keeping them safe from traffic, local hawks--basically protecting them from the myriad dangers of country life.

But there is trouble in the crew...two males had a smackdown on my lawn. And they are mean buggers. Check it out:

So, you should know, this took me forever to upload on here! Boy, I thought Google+ would be my friend here, but it was hard to get this happening. I finally just went through YouTube. Maybe that's what I was supposed to do in the first place? I don't know.

Spring Cleaning: Gmail Style | Dumping unwanted emails

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Wed, 23 Apr 2014 19:43:00 +0000

With spring actually slated to occur in the near future here in the Monadnock Region, (shut up--there *are* buds on my lilacs and forsythia!) and me enjoying April Vacation Week, I've been doing a little spring cleaning.

Not in my house, but my in-box.

Happily, as a gmail user, I can just dump all the old mail in "archive" and achieve the much-desired status of "Inbox=Zero". But that doesn't remedy the incredible amount of crap email I receive on a daily basis. And I can assure you, that it is, in fact, incredible.

So I pitched everything (4k+ unread emails, never mind all the read ones) into archive on Sunday and have been attending to my email inbox on an almost hourly basis ever since. Every email that comes in, I'm mentally reviewing,

Do I shop here? (ridiculous numbers of web-stores flood my in-box daily)
If yes, will I shop here, with or without the email alerts?
If you answer #2 with "Only if I get the email alerts," reconsider #1; If you answer with "Yes," unsubscribe: you can always search for deals when you want them (that is why sites like "Retail Me Not" exist, after all...)
Do I *actually WANT* email from this organization? If not, dump 'em.
When in doubt, unsubscribe.

I've unsubscribed to no fewer than 30 email lists in the last three days. THIRTY. That's ridiculous, now, isn't it? This stuff creeps up on you. If I weren't on vacation, I wouldn't have time to dedicate to undoing this awful electronic clutter.

Sometimes, I consider just abandoning my email addy and starting fresh. Have you ever done that? Just abandoned ship on your junk email? It makes me kind of nervous...

So here I sit...on my cell phone, finding the miniature "unsubscribe" links at the very bottom of the tiny fine print that concludes all advertising emails, clicking through and unsubscribing to as much as possible before I go blind for the tiny font...

He's coming along

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Wed, 14 Mar 2012 10:56:00 +0000

You may recall this past summer I found an old poster from Bubba's days in first grade, where he wrote (and then rubbed out, but it was visible) that doing things to help was just as wrong as folding his mom's underwear.

ahem.

So, it was with great parental pride that this was found in Bubba's folder yesterday afternoon. All his work...and illustrations!

"I am funny because I can entertain people. I am brave because I stand up for people" The drawing is Bub being "helpful"

See, he really does like to help people!

More importantly to me, though, is the fact that he is now resisting the urge to be a wise-ass on school work that he deems to be below him.

My boy is growing up...

Time to Vote in Podunk

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Tue, 13 Mar 2012 09:00:00 +0000

This time it's purely local...town offices are up for grabs, along with some ballot questions so if you are a member of the Podunk voting rolls I urge you to

Get out to the elementary school and get your vote on!

If you're looking for some suggestions...I have my personal preferences on a few of the spots on today's ballot:

Treasurer: Helene Rogers
Selectman: Pat Martin
Cemetery Trustee, One Year Term: Arwen Mellor (write-in)

All good peeps, all looking out for the best interests of Podunk.

Also a "Yes" on Question 11. We truly ought to avail ourselves of any potential grant money we can to ensure clean, safe, and inexpensive energy for our community and quite frankly, our country. Let's pull together on this!

OK, stepping down from my soapbox now...Mostly so I can remind you--on Monday the 19th there will be a wonderful birthday surprise, so stay tuned!

How'd it get to be March?

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Sun, 11 Mar 2012 00:37:00 +0000

Well look at that--we're well into March. How did that happen so quickly?

So...I haven't been around much. Mostly because I'm catching up on things around the homestead, happily organizing and getting things closer to sane. I didn't realize what rough shape I'd been in from a depression/anxiety perspective until I'd been out of it for more than six months. Now, I'm taking steps forward on the organization front and not backsliding--it's hard. It's taking me a while.

But I'm getting there, and that my friends, has got to count for something!

In anticipation of my birthday, I'm doing something really big and exciting. I can't tell you what it is, because it's not my birthday yet, but when that day arrives, my pretties...just you wait! It's a gift to me and to you, and I can't wait to share it!

Enough about that. I'm ending on a sweet note: I have a collection of wine glass charms that my sister in law made me. I often will pull them off the wine glasses and toss them onto the windowsill over the sink. Daisy arranged a few of them on my ring holder so I'd notice them one morning this week:

So sweet...

Open Letter to Rick Santorum regarding the First Amendment

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Mon, 27 Feb 2012 09:00:00 +0000

Dear Mr. Santorum,

So, you've gone and said it.

"I don't believe in an America where the separation of church and state is absolute. The idea that the church can have no influence or no involvement in the operation of the state is absolutely antithetical to the objectives and vision of our country."

And this is where you stand. You said JFK's speech about religion and its role in the presidency made you want to throw up.

Throw up.

Let me get this out of the way. That's just an immature--and frankly, base--way to communicate your displeasure with someone else and their opinions. I tell my kids not to speak that way, and you want to be President? So that's how you speak about a respected speech on a Sunday news show. Seriously, Mr. Santorum, grow up.

Moving right along...how would you feel if one of your children attended public school (I know, I know, just work with me here) and was told he could not study a particular science topic with his enrichment teacher. Outside of the classroom.

That the topic (fossils, incidentally) would tread upon the religious sensibilities of a few students in your child's class whose upbringing includes the belief that our planet is a mere six-thousand-odd years old.

Now remember, those students weren't going to be participating in the project with your child. The issue was that your child might expose his classmates to beliefs that counter their own and they would find that upsetting. So your child is banned from the project.

Now imagine that you request to move your child out of that classroom. Not just because of the fossil project, but also because part of his reading curriculum includes a book with a twelve line prayer from a religion that is different from his own, when no other religious perspectives have been offered, nor will be offered, over the course of the curriculum.

How would you feel when you were told that, No, your child wouldn't be moved to a different classroom where he could explore more advanced topics without fear of upsetting fellow students. He must stay with the teacher and the classmates whose religion chooses to ignore long-established facts about earth science, and he is restricted to only discussing science as he in knows it in the context of a religion that is not his own. But he must be subject to the dogma of others' religions.

That boy was a kindergartener--my son. And I'm sure that you would agree with me that no child of that age should be indoctrinated in any religious direction other than that which his parents have chosen to expose him. And certainly not by a publicly funded institution.

But it sounds to me as if you espouse the view that all of that's OK. So long as it holds with your beliefs, religion can be part of the government--indeed it should be part of our government.

As an American citizen that completely disgusts me. (If I were to use your vernacular, I'm sure you know what I'd say about it...) Our country was founded on the belief that our citizens should not be subject to a state-run religion. That in fact, ALL of us are created equal, not just those who believe in your brand of Christianity.

In fact, when I consult my pocket constitution it doesn't say anywhere in there that one needs to be a Christian to enjoy life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. So a big part of me hopes that you really do become the GOP nominee. Because I do have faith.

Faith that the majority of my fellow voters, when in the privacy of the voting booth, will recognize that your brand of bat-shit-crazy zealotry is exactly what our country doesn't need right now.

Sincerely,
Margaret Barney
Registered Voter

January is almost over!

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 16:14:00 +0000

Yes, I'm excited about it ending. I have decided that I will enjoy the hell out of February despite my historic distaste for the entire month (save for the anniversary of my first date with the hub...it's truly February's saving grace).

I've got my head meds squared away, my Happy Lights are glowing, and--hot damn!--the taxes are even filed. The kids are doing reasonably well, hub's happy at work, and now? Now I am working on me. That means writing more, as well as making small steps in my never-ending quest for organization around this chaotic house! And hip-hip hooray, for the first time in TEN days, I don't have a sick kid at home with me.

So now I've got a few things up my sleeve. Despite my writing hiatus, I have a draft about our latest pets (yes, that's plural) and I'm just getting it polished up for Prime Parents Club. Speaking of which--Jackie has been so busy over there, updating the site. There are even perks for being a member (you know, beyond reading the amazing writers that she's got contributing) and I'm hoping to get in on the first one myself, since it's a course in couponing, and I could use all the help I can get in that respect. Go on...go over there and check things out!

I have a number of book reviews I want to share, one from a local author, which was a very entertaining read, the jewelry book that I received from the illustrious and ever-creative Margot Potter, and an MG that Daisy recently brought home from the library.

And here and there, I'll throw in some more of the v-logs. Because, well...it's fun. Look, here's one I did a couple of weeks ago...

Disclaimer: I realize that every time I publicly announce on my blog that I shall henceforth ______, I tend to flop disastrously. However, I am an optimist at heart, so I'm giving it a whirl one more time.

Voting in the 2012 NH Primary

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 16:56:00 +0000

Hi there!

Yes, it's been a while. Rather than offer silly excuses as to what on earth I've been doing with my time while I blow off my four regular readers, I'll jump right in.

So, I voted yesterday...

and ultimately decided for whom to vote...

At least we'll get a bit of a break until the Autumn, now.

Oh, and Happy New Year, y'all!

Aliens and runaway cows

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 11:00:00 +0000

We made gingerbread houses this past weekend.

Though I did have to spend quite a bit of time prepping, (something I could not have done when Bubba and Daisy were younger) it was worth it. Not just because they all came out so nicely, but because we all had a lot of fun doing the decorating.

Originally, this was supposed to be a train. The guys decided it was a tractor and decorated it accordingly.

The house that Maggie built

Here is the runaway cow. He's nibbling on a peppermint tractor wheel. Mostly because he can't stand up on his own.

The is the farmhouse Daisy built--I think the cow ran away when the one eyed alien landed on the roof. Note the gingerbread man who seems to have fainted

I don't think these two even realize that there's an alien, nor that the cow ran away. Clearly they aren't yet aware that the third gingerbread man has been abducted. I mean, look at those smiles.

Yo ho ho

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 10:00:00 +0000

Eight year old humour, clearly inspired by Gary Larsen.

Long before there was an Elf on the Shelf

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 11:00:00 +0000

Once upon a time there was a lady by the name of Patsy with very discerning taste. She proudly eschewed the 'tacky' and embraced the classy. Once in a while however, particularly when it came to Christmas, her cheese-o-meter would fail her.

One year Patsy accepted delivery of a lovely Christmas arrangement from her sister-in-law. Replete with red bows and evergreens, it was a fitting nod to the season. Not surprisingly given the source, tucked into the centerpiece and wired to a green stick, was this charming fellow:

In his later years

Well, Patsy was thrilled. Promptly placing the festive basket of greenery on the foyer table, it immediately took a place of pride in her home. Not only was the arrangement a lovely addition to that year's decor, but every visitor was welcomed by this cheery fellow perched among the sprigs.

When her youngest daughter returned from college that year, she saw the arrangement immediately. Initially surprised that Patsy had included what amounted to a dopey plastic elf dressed in nasty acrylic in the household decor, she quickly forgot about the little guy as she glided through the holiday season, much as she closeted thoughts of final exams and essays.

Having received similar gifts for Christmases past from her sister-in-law, each January Patsy followed the same routine. She would wait a little too long, and then dispose of the dried out ~~fire hazard~~ centerpiece. Now, Patsy was also a thrifty woman, so before the big heave-ho, she would squirrel away her favorite little decorations (often wired to green florist sticks) for future use in her own wreaths and arrangements. She tucked myriad little bows, tinselly wreaths, and clumps of faux red berries into a giant ziplock bag and stored them away until the following winter.

Each year, to the surprise of her youngest daughter, that elf would reappear. Sometimes on an overly decorated wreath over the mantle. Sometimes in an arrangement in the dining room. But without fail, each Christmas season the jolly imp--stick jammed up his ass and all--was featured somewhere in Patsy's holiday decor. Each year, the elf got a bit grubbier and a little more threadbare. And without fail, when the holidays were over, he would be packed up with all of Patsy's Christmas ornamenture, safe and sound until his reappearance the following December.

The years passed, and eventually Patsy died. Her loving children came together to attend to her personal belongings and divided up the holiday decorations. Pieces of Patsy's holiday decor went with each child, except for the the two giant plastic bags filled with cheesy decorations Patsy rescued from the holiday floral arrangements that her sister-in-law had sent over the years. Those were put in the donate/trash pile.

Inside those bags, poked and prodded by the florists sticks, waited the bedraggled elf. The youngest daughter, managed to rescue the once-blonde little guy from his certain end at the landfill and brought him home with some of the more tolerable ornaments that Patsy had treasured over the years.

The first Christmas after Patsy died, the daughter came across the elf and tucked him into a kissing ball on her front porch. Each time she passed by she outwardly smiled to see him, but inwardly ached from missing her mother. When the holidays ended, she resisted the urge to keep every last decoration on the kissing ball, tucking away only the now, very seriously, peaked imp.

Today the elf is filthy, his hair almost gone. His legs are all bent up and he's got random glitter stuck to his hat. But each Christmas, as he has for more than twenty years, the elf reappears.

He's not spying on anyone looking for good behavior. He's not leaving and returning to a new spot hoping to be found each day. I'm quite sure he doesn't report anything to anyone. He's just hanging out (this year with Patsy), as a tacky reminder of various, merry Christmases Past.

He's not saying a word...

Product Review: The Bounce Bar

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 13:26:00 +0000

A while back, BlogHer and Bounce got together and sent me a Bounce Bar for my dryer.

I've been a dryer sheet gal for years. The problem with dryer sheets is that they are like hangers. When you're not looking, they multiply and wind up wadded in the strangest places. What? You say that doesn't happen in your house? Well, it does in mine and I know the scene of the crime.

It happens in the dryer. Those sheets are frisky little suckers, the bunny rabbits of the housekeeping world. And they feed on stray socks while they are getting it on during a hot tumble. Really.

I've found two of them at once, rolling around on the floor after I'd folded a load. They were basking in the afterglow...if they could have asked me for a cigarette, they would have. I know. I get it.

But I digress. This Bounce Bar...I gave it a whirl. All you do is fasten the holder inside the drum of your dryer and snap a fresh bar into place. Then, you do nothing for a couple of months (for me, it was about eight weeks--your mileage may vary, as do the dryer bar sizes). Nothing!

Well, you do laundry.

But what you're not doing is chasing down wispy sheets of polyester something after each load. You don't really have to think about it. At all. Which, given the kind of housekeeper I was raised to be, really works well for me. The less I have to think about, the better.

I do have a minor gripe about the product: It's a tad tacky. Not goopy, not gloppy, not outright sticky. But after the first use, there was a coating of lint on the surface of the bar and it kind of icked me out. I tried to peel it off, but because the bar had cooled down, it was sort of set in it. I left it alone after that, and the trace of lint had no impact on the usefulness of the product.

I found that it also makes my lint stickier. Yes, that sounds strange but I noticed that my lint catcher is more difficult to clean after a load--the soft grey sheet of fuzz doesn't just peel nicely off the mesh. It sticks...ever so slightly. Just enough that I have to work it a bit. I think I'm going to wash the lint trap and remove any residue and start again though. It's not enough to keep me from using the product again.

Because I really liked the Bounce Bar. It prevented static cling, smelled pleasant, and couldn't be simpler to use. And, using it meant I didn't have to chase down randy dryer sheets, which is good since I've been focusing on keeping those hangers out of trouble lately.

I haven't noticed if my sock population has leveled off yet, but I'll keep you posted...

Disclosure: I received a complimentary Bounce Bar courtesy of BlogHer and the folks at Bounce. I was under no obligation to write a review of the product, but chose to do so because I do like it and wanted to share it with my readers. All opinions (not to mention embarrassing revelations about the shenanigans going on around my house) are my own.

That time of year

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Sun, 04 Dec 2011 13:00:00 +0000

Yes, folks, it's that time of year when we search high and low for those perfect gifts for our special someones.

Regular readers know of my appreciation for silly holiday fun...remember the time I gave Jesus a rhinoplasty? Of course this holiday season our nearest and dearest will again be enjoying some giggles courtesy of our dear, old friends at Archie McPhee. Well, they're dear to us. I don't think they actually know who we are. In any event, I placed our holiday order in the wee hours this morning and I can. not. wait. for the package to get here.

So to keep me occupied, I thought I'd introduce you to another website just perfect for good, old fashioned, geeky fun.

The fine folks over at American Science and Surplus offer an enourmous variety of goods with a focus on, you guessed it...science. Their prices are really good, too.

Often you can find random things for short money, but I've also noticed that some stuff they offer is available elsewhere. Never fear, though--in those instances their prices are competitive (and often better). At AS&S you can find surplus lab equipment, odd little toys and tchotchkes, cool kits and models, along with random household, office and school stuff.

Now that sounds perfectly dry and boring, doesn't it?

Well, clearly you are unfamiliar with AS&S, or you still haven't clicked through to the website and read any one of the product descriptions. These guys can find the humour in just about anything that comes across their desks. It's a happy day in Podunk when the AS&S catalog shows up in the mail.

And it's a Merry Christmas with AS&S under the tree. Last year, we broke open geodes, painted masks, assembled miniature skeletons. I won't yet reveal what we've got cooking for this year. Let's just say when I finished shopping at McPhee, I filled my virtual cart at AS&S.

Disclosure: I have no connection to American Science and Surplus. This post is strictly my opinion and no compensation was offered nor received. I'm just a geeky mom sharing science-y goodness.

Drawing in the margins

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 22:46:00 +0000

Are you a doodler?

I am. I come from a long line of doodlers. My kids doodle too. One of Bubba's weekly school assignments is to write his vocabulary words three times, and then select the best of the lot and put a smiley face on it. He hates this task, but last night we found a way to make it more interesting. Instead of putting a smiley next to his best effort, he doodled a little goofy face, or in one case, "a dog that resembles Elvis Presley" (which, surprisingly, it did).

All of a sudden a task that he had no interest in doing became something that he was excited to do. All because of a doodle. Better yet, he did what he could to make the doodle relate to the word at hand each time.

Seems there's some research indicating that despite what Freud and his antiquated followers might believe, your doodles aren't necessarily revealing your darker side. But don't just take my word for it. The following TED talk by Sunni Brown will tell you all you need to know about the wonderful benefits of doodling. It's worth six minutes...have a look:

Do you doodle? What about your kids? And has such doodling ever been an issue?

Clarification on Lunch Wars

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Fri, 21 Oct 2011 15:36:00 +0000

When I wrote about Lunch Wars for the BHBC, I indicated that my kids buy school lunch, which they do. Am I thrilled with the choices offered every day? I'd be lying if I said I was. But it has come to my attention that I might do well to clarify the fact that I am not actually embarking upon a Lunch War of my own.

Clearly, if I let my kids consume the food served at school, I'm not on some crusade to change things up. I've seen the lunches that were outed by Ms. Q--what my kids receive is head and shoulders above that dreck.

To be clear: I hold no animosity toward the lunch program in Podunk. Could it be improved? Sure, if all things aligned and money was no object. But that's not the case. And frankly, I let them eat the school lunch because they want to, it's easier for me, and we balance things up with the meals at home. At the end of the day, my kids are fed just fine. I'm sure the same holds true for most families in the district.

Remember, my kids are customers of the lunch program. I'm not planning to march in to request information about some wellness committee, or how the district negotiates their transactions with the commercial provider. I think the ladies who work there, and feed our kids every day are wonderful, caring women who are looking out for the kids and seem to really enjoy what they do.

If my readers are inspired to look into their district's food program and want to work on initiating changes to their systems, Lunch Wars is a cogent, well-written book about doing just that--I recommend it wholeheartedly.

Just understand that I am not actually interested in doing that myself. Status quo is working for me, thankyouverymuch.

Light Box for SAD: Does it work?

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Fri, 14 Oct 2011 00:48:00 +0000

As a sufferer of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), you may understand that these shorter days can really harsh on my easy. It’s not just me…lots of people suffer from SAD during the winter months, and there are various ways to mitigate the difficulties to which SAD can contribute.

As my sister is similarly afflicted, she offered me a chance to test-drive her full- spectrum light box to see if I would find any positive effects. Her particular unit is made by Verilux and the model is “HappyLight Deluxe”, though the unit itself says “Happy Lite” right on it. This light box is specifically designed to mimic natural sunlight and help ease the affects of dwindling daylight on SAD patients.

I gave it a shot for ten days, and here’s how it went:

Day One: Forgot to get myself in front of ye olde Happy Lite (HL) until after a nap this afternoon. I lugged it out (it’s big) and put it on the counter in the kitchen. I snapped it on as I checked the email and the feed reader. Was it the power of suggestion, or did the yawns go away pretty quickly? No time to reflect…the kids are rolling in from school.

Day Two: Woke up early (4:30 am). Came down and turned on the coffee maker, and flipped on the HL. Damn, that thing throws off some serious light. The back porch is lit up because of this thing sitting on my counter. Don’t look directly at that sucker though—it hurts.

Puttered around the kitchen and loaded and ran the dishwasher, wiped down the counters (people really do this in the evening…after a full day?), scrubbed the pots and pans from last night. Time for my decaf and a cig. What--it’s only 5:40? Cool.

Day Three: Came downstairs, the kitchen is a mess. Plus, the coffeemaker overflowed (it always helps to actually put the filter basket inside the unit before you add coffee) so...

(Read the rest of the post over at Prime Parents Club)

BlogHer Book Club: How to Be an American Housewife

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Fri, 07 Oct 2011 00:24:00 +0000

How to Be an American Housewife by Margaret Dilloway was my latest read, courtesy of the BlogHer BookClub. Dilloway's novel was an engaging story about family connections in an ever-changing world.

So many of us have mothers who have their own story to tell, secrets they kept which necessarily impacted the way they raised us and the way they carried out their own journeys. It is for this reason I think, that I find myself drawn to novels centered around mothers and daughters. Frankly, the complicated relationships we often have with our mothers fascinates me.

We first get to know Shoko, a young Japanese woman who eventually marries an American G.I., in her native land. As she navigates her way through young adulthood, Shoko faces choices and opportunities that are not entirely hers to make--familial obligations come into play. In trying to satisfy those obligations, and still remain true to herself, Shoko ultimately makes a choice that while pleasing to her father, creates a lifelong rift with her brother.

Her choices also impact her children, both born after Shoko relocates to the States with her Mormon husband. She simultaneously embraces elements of her Japanese heritage while trying to assimilate herself into the American culture. There is confusion arising from the juxtaposition of these two different ways of living for Shoko, and it remains so throughout her life, which has lasting implications on the way her relationship with her daughter Sue plays out.

In the first section of the book, Shoko narrates. Dilloway does an excellent job blending Shoko’s internal monologue with her spoken words, so the reader gets a sense of the thought process behind what would otherwise appear to simply be the short, clipped statements of a non-native English speaker. There is so much more behind the mere words spoken by Shoko and this style offered me an understanding of the dynamics that fed into the relationships both between Shoko and her world, and between mother and daughter.

The other narrator is Sue, of whom I wasn’t a really big fan at first; I found her to be detached from her mother, and somewhat cold. As I got to know her background and perspective though, it made more sense to me--my empathy and understanding of Sue grew. It took the trip to Japan with her own daughter for Sue to recognize the depth of her mother’s love for her family as well as the complexity of her history. As Sue’s journey unfolded, I felt increasingly more connected to her. By the end of the book, she felt like a friend to me.

As I do so often with books I love, I read this one really quickly. I was touched by the way this mother and daughter were able to ultimately connect as adults in a way that they never did before. As Dilloway weaved the tale, and I dove deeper into the intricacies of their respective experiences, I really enjoyed getting to know both of them and understanding their complicated relationship.

To read more about this book at BlogHer, go visit their How to Be an American Housewife page.

You can also read more from Margaret Dilloway at her blog.

***

Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of this book for review, and was compensated for my time reviewing it for the BlogHer Book Club. All opinions are entirely my own.

Make a Spider Costume in Less than an Hour

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Tue, 04 Oct 2011 14:31:00 +0000

Was he really this little?

This post was first published in 2007, back when Bubba was about to turn four. This costume came together in really short order. He wore it over and over and over again long past Halloween. It was so easy, and I'm getting a few hits on the original post, so I thought I'd revive it for all of you today.

***

As I mentioned in my "crafty" post, often I get these ideas someone else has already done. In this case, I may well have read this one years ago, and retained it or maybe I'm a costuming genius, either way, I thought some might like an easy costume idea (and this could be easily modified for an adult costume as well!) I just created a Spider Costume for my son.

I bought a pair of black sweatpants, a black long-sleeved shirt, a pair of black gloves, two pair of black dress socks (men's crew length; use tights for an adult costume) . I had kicking around the house a BUNCH of plastic grocery sacks (I use them for packing material when I ship for eBay) as well as a length of elastic, a sewing needle and black thread.

First, I stuffed the four men's socks with grocery sacks, all scrunched up. The heel of the sock makes a natural bend so these really look like spider's legs when they are evenly stuffed with the grocery sacks. The sacks are easy to stuff in the socks, and are easily squeezed into the right shape once you've filled the sock. I stitched the top of each sock onto the sides of the shirt under the sleeves (see the photos).

Then I sewed a short bit of elastic running from the bottom of the bend on the top 'leg' to the top of the bend on the bottom 'leg'. Another short bit of elastic went from the cuff of the shirt sleeve to the top of the bend on the top leg. I stitched it all by hand--messy, nasty stitches that Martha would NOT be proud of, but they are firm, they'll stay put, an accomplishment that most MOTHERS would in fact be proud of. Especially since with black on black, no one's the wiser!!

Now you have a shirt, with two real sleeves, and then four additional 'sleeves' (the socks). With black sweatpants on, black gloves and black shoes or sneakers, your spider is nearly complete. Take a black knit hat, and hot glue eight large pompoms or googly eyes, evenly spaced around cuff of the hat. (2011 note: this hat is *still* a favorite. It's the only part of the costume that we still have kicking around.)

Voila...a spider costume in less than an hour. Now, if I could just get the boy out of it, so that it's still presentable for Halloween!!

Final 2011 note: You can modify this idea for different insects--lose a pair of socks and add a pair of wings and you have a butterfly. Change up colors...whatever inspires you! Oh, and come back and share a photo, too!
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Supply List for Spider Costume:

Black Sweatpants
Long sleeved Black T-shirt
2 Pair Black men's dress socks
Stuffing for four spider legs (I used plastic grocery sacks, but you can use batting, or other filling as well)
1 pair of black mittens/gloves (optional)
Black knit hat
8 pompoms or Googly Eyes
24" elastic or cording
Glue/Hot Glue
Black Thread
Needle

BlogHer Book Club: Lunch Wars

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Fri, 30 Sep 2011 01:41:00 +0000

My kids buy lunch most days. I'll admit it's some laziness on my part, and I never make them buy--it's entirely their choice. If they want one of the selections, I'll let them buy; if they don't, I send them with lunch.

I just wish the selections were better. I am relieved that they reject "Corn Dogs" and "Rib B Que Sandwiches", because seriously--what is in those things? But they also reject anything resembling a salad, and I know that Bubba won't ever eat any kind of fruit--fresh, canned or even in a pie.

Our district relies on a Food Service Management Company for the school lunches...which I sort of assumed would be like the Sodexho-type food service available in so many office parks and buildings. Having worked in a corporate capacity for years, I thought the food must be pretty darn good. And what a bargain! My kids can eat lunch for $2.35 a day.

Then I started subbing at the schools and saw what was being served (not to mention discarded uneaten). I caught the first season of Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution and then his second. I wondered about what I was doing letting them buy lunch at school.

Courtesy of BlogHer, I recently had the opportunity to read Amy Kalafa's Lunch Wars. Now I know for sure...my thoughts about the school lunch have changed. I'm really far more concerned about what my kids are eating at school than I was back when Daisy started Kindergarten. I'm fortunate in that they're both really healthy, and do not have any weight concerns at all, but I know they're not getting a superbly nutritious meal from the school cafe. Sure, it meets USDA requirements for school lunch. But frankly, that's not enough for me.

Amy Kalafa's Lunch Wars is your step-by-step guide to finding a way to improve upon the school lunch offerings in your community. Starting off with simply getting to know your system--your cafeteria, your decision makers, your district's policies and practices--and finding like-minded members of the community, the first couple of chapters help walk you through getting to know your playing field and your allies.

She provides a history of school lunch legislation and a deeper understanding into how policies are affected by such laws, which she follows with a primer on finding and understanding the wellness policies of your district. (I never knew that school districts even had wellness policies--I thought those were reserved for companies who offered on-site nurses and fitness club memberships!)

Kafala also offers concrete solutions, and examples of various districts' solutions to school food dillemma: How do we get our kids to eat nutritious food? The key is exposure and normalizing of healthy food choices. She shows us how including food science and local gardening in the overall curriculum can add so much depth. Students really understand what they’re consuming (science), where it’s coming from (social studies), how it’s prepared (math and art), and how it’s disposed of (science and environmentalism).

Throughout the book, Kafala provides excellent examples of districts who have undergone big changes in their school lunch programs. I was delighted to read about the Con Val school district here in New Hampshire, and the changes that Tony Garaci made to their program. I live in the same region of the state, and I had no idea that they had such a high quality cafeteria service. Tony has since moved on, but he leaves behind a wonderful legacy that Podunk would do well to emulate.

My only complaint about the book is its somewhat deceptive title. Kafala proposes a gentle, yet firm and positive approach to effecting concrete change in the school lunch--calling it a "War" seems to demonize the effort more than perhaps it should. I think of it more as a call to action; a mission (should you choose to accept it...) to garner support for a change in practice and an improvement to the very sustenance that our children are receiving at school.

If you are looking for an understanding of how exactly to go about changing things in your child's school cafeteria, I wholeheartedly recommend reading Lunch Wars first. Not only will the prospect seem less daunting, but you'll truly benefit from the wisdom of Kafala's experience and her informative and encouraging approach.

Disclosure: Though I received a complimentary copy of this book and was paid for my time reviewing Lunch Wars for the BlogHer Book Club, you can be sure, as always, the opinions expressed here are my own.

For more interesting discussion on the topic, pop over to BlogHer and answer this question: Do You Really Know What Your Kids Are Eating at School?

Yes, I completely boffed NaBloPoMo

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Sun, 18 Sep 2011 11:00:00 +0000

Whenever I do that, I tend to run and hide from my blog. That is not good, as I do have a wonderful post about my rereading of the Handmaid's Tale churning about in my mind.

I shall post it in the next day or so...in the meantime, consider this post my official "My Bad" on the NaBloPoMo effort for September.

I'm not signing up again this year--the autumn gets so busy. October will be kind of crazy, November is filled with birthdays and now it would appear that my dad and his wife will be here for the week of Thanksgiving, so that month is shot too. December? Fagetaboudit. I have to be realistic.

In the meantime, I do intend to keep blogging, I'm just not committing to blogging every single day for a month for a long time!

The Censors Didn't Approve

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Tue, 13 Sep 2011 00:46:00 +0000

Found this gem when I was cleaning the living room. It was tucked in a magazine basket.

It's one of those "All About Me" posters Bubba made sometime last year. It came home on the last day of school and apparently got filed away amongst the outdated Martha Sterwart mags.

Full Poster

Ain't he handsome?

His response to the portion of the poster that says, "I help others by:" shows how he feels about school--that its something he's supposed to do for others. He wrote, "Doing my homework".

But that was actually his second response to the prompt. The original, rubbed out with eraser, but still legible to my eye was, "Helping is just as wrong as a kid folding his mother's underwear."

Um, what? Sometimes, his inclination toward throwing out Calvin and Hobbs lines gets the better of him. Of course, I'm assuming its C & H, perhaps it's the Far Side. What can I say? He likes Larsen as much as Waterson. But I suppose a first grade "All About Me" poster really can't boldly say "Helping Others Sucks".

Now, for the record, he doesn't actually fold any laundry, let alone my skivvies. Also, he's not completely against helping others, I honestly think it was his attempt at humor. I've got to focus on teaching him the finer points of "the right time and place."

I'm assuming his teacher didn't think it was so funny to hang that up in the classroom--it's a tad sophisticated for the seven-year-old set. Not to mention, it doesn't exactly espouse the attitude a teacher would wish to foster in her classroom.

So therefore you know, of course, I am never getting rid of this poster.

September 11th

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Sun, 11 Sep 2011 13:00:00 +0000

Last night Bubba crawled into bed with me around 10:30 pm, crying. He'd had a nightmare...a really bad one. I think it was about the WTC towers. There's been so much coverage on the news about the anniversary, that it has been impossible to completely escape it.

This morning when he got up, he came downstairs. With his favorite blanket wrapped around his little body, he climbed into my lap and snuggled with me for a minute. I asked him how he slept after his bad dream. "I managed to get myself back to sleep," he told me. Then he was very quiet for a minute or two, quietly breathing his little-boy morning breath onto my neck.

He knows about 9/11. He's got a thing for buildings, particularly record-breaking ones, so of course the WTC towers figure into that base of knowledge. He knows about the Pentagon and about Shanksville. He's read a lot about them all.

He doesn't know, however, what things were like before that fateful day. He'll never know a youth without the threat of Al Qaeda and terrorism. Which seems incredibly daunting to me as a parent. There are people who want to harm Americans simply for being American. How can that be? How do we wrap our heads around it? How do we explain this to our kids?

But then I think about my own youth. What gave me nightmares? What left me awake in my bed, scared for the future?

Nuclear War. Specifically, nuclear war with the USSR. I was a mess for weeks after watching The Day After. It occurs to me that every generation has some sort of threat looming over them, something larger than us, something so seemingly insurmountable. Something Evil.

It hangs there, darkening everyday life until one day, things change. Walls come down. Peace happens. The inherent goodness of mankind rises again. That's not to say that nuclear weapons aren't still an issue, but they're not the same enormous, nightmare-inducing concern that they used to be.

One day, Al Qaeda won't be the dark enemy at the door, creating horror and fear, death and destruction. The cynical side me wonders, what will the threat be for Bubba and Daisy's kids? What terrifying spectre will haunt my grandchildren's nightmares?

The optimistic side of me, however, knows that no matter what it is, Good will prevail. Love will trump all. I have to believe this. For me...for my children...and for their children.

***

Several years ago, I recounted my experience of September 11, 2001. You can read that entry here.

The end of the First Day

noreply@blogger.com (Margaret Barney) — Sat, 10 Sep 2011 13:07:00 +0000

Though I mentioned I didn't really get a good 'First Day of School' photo of my kids, I did get a few shots of Daisy at the end of her first day of 5th grade...Behold my brave girl who, though worried about the response she would get from her schoolmates because she was skipping 4th grade, survived her first day. She didn't just survive. She triumphed over her fears and anxiety.

I am so proud of my brave young daughter.