(Nearly) Wordless Wednesday: First skating lessons

They’re Canadian; of course I had to sign the boys up for skating lessons!

They’d never been on skates before. The morning started out with a lot of this:

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After a while of crawling around on the ice, Tristan had progressed to this:

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I honestly never expected him to get to this during his very first lesson:

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But, most of the time was spent more like this:

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Simon was content to stay more or less like this:

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Guess which one said he wants to sign up for hockey lessons next year, and which one said he thinks he’ll stick with swimming?

Ten-pages-in book review: In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto

It’s been a long, long time since I’ve written a 10-pages-in book review. This is largely because I am in the year of the series, working my way through all seven Harry Potter books, the His Dark Materials trilogy, Stephen King’s Dark Tower books, and I’m currently in the middle of re-reading one of my all-time favourite series, Douglas Adams’s Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (a trilogy in five parts)(snicker). But this isn’t about those books.

The book I’m reading right now is Michael Pollan’s In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto. I’d seen it mentioned here and there, and it was on the library’s express read shelf. In a fit of optimism (I read quickly, but never seem to have the time to get around to reading lately, and the books are due in seven days) I picked it up. I am so glad I did.

I don’t know if this book would have resonated so deeply with me if I weren’t already in the midst of my own dietary recalibration exercise, but the timing couldn’t have been better. Pollan’s book is an examination of how we in Western society have reduced food to nothing more than nutrients, and asks why in a society completely obsessed with ‘healthy’ eating we are more overweight and more sick than ever before. It’s fascinating reading: part history lesson, part self-help, part diatribe. Even with the library-imposed deadline, I couldn’t put it down.

Why does Pollan think food needs to be defended? He observes that over the last generation or so, we have slowly replaced our intake of actual food with highly processed foodlike substances. He says that in reducing food to its nutritional components (not only macronutrients like proteins, carbohydrates and fats, but micronutrients like omega-3 and vitamins) and reducing the purpose of eating to bodily health, we actually do ourselves considerable harm.

In Defense of Food is broken into three parts. The first is a historical examination of how we came to be in this “age of nutritionism”, as Pollan calls it, and how “fake foods” became so ubiquitous. We in Western culture are so obsessed with the nutritional value of food that we have elevated it to an ideology requiring an “-ism”. Pollan blames the unholy trinity of the food industry, nutrition science and journalism our current mentality, and for propagating misleading and even dangerous dietary recommendations: “[M]ost of the nutritional advice we’ve received over the last half-century … has actually made us less healthy and considerably fatter.” Not to mention, he observes, ruining countless numbers of meals.

Pollan illustrates this in the example of margarine, “the first important synthetic food to slip into our diet.” He notes that margarine was created in the nineteenth century as a cheap substitute for butter, but became the poster child for the anti-saturated-fat movement that began in the 1950s at the advent of nutritionalism. This (albeit lengthy) paragraph illustrates not only Pollan’s point but his rather entertaining style as well:

[M]anufacturers quickly figured out that their product, with some tinkering, could be marketed as better – smarter! – than butter: butter with the bad nutrients removed (cholesterol and saturated fats) and replaced with good nutrients (polyunsaturated fats and then vitamins.) Every time margarine was found wanting, the wanted nutrient could simply be added (Vitamin D? Got it now. Vitamin A? Sure, no problem.) But of course margarine, being the product not of nature but of human ingenuity, could never be any smarter than the nutritionists dictating its recipe, and the nutritionists turned out to be not nearly as smart as they thought. The food scientists’ ingenious method for making healthy vegetable oil solid at room temperature – by blasting it with hydrogen – turned out to produce unhealthy trans fats, fats that we now know are more dangerous than the saturated fats they were designed to replace. Yet the beauty of a processed food like margarine is that it can be endlessly reengineered to overcome even the most embarrassing about-face in nutritional thinking — including the real wincer that its main ingredient might cause heart attacks and cancer. So now the trans fats are gone, and margarine marches on, unfazed and apparently unkillable. Too bad the same cannot be said of an unknown number of margarine eaters.

Fake foods and nutritionism aren’t Pollan’s only targets. He notes that the problem starts in the industrialization of food production. Pollan notes that two-thirds of our daily caloric intake comes from four crops: corn, soy, wheat and rice. Think about that. TWO-THIRDS! Humans are designed to be omnivores, so this kind of restriction — not to mention the lengths to which those four crops are processed — is a completely unnatural diet. He also talks about how the way in which we produce food has slowly eroded the quality of the food in order to improve yields, pointing out that it would take three apples from today to equal the iron content in one apple from the 1940s. He goes so far as to suggest that maybe this “nutritional inflation” is an underlying cause of the obesity epidemic: we are the first generation that is overfed AND undernourished at the same time.

As far as dietary advice, Pollan’s prescription is poetic in its simplicity: “Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.” In the last third of the book, in which I am currently immersed, he expands upon this advice with a few simple dietary rules of thumb like, “would your great-grandmother recognize it as food” and “don’t eat it if it has ingredients you don’t recognize and/or can’t pronounce.”

It’s an engaging, easy-to-follow and eye-opening account, and I can’t recommend it highly enough. And, as an aside, I think Pollan is the first published writer I’ve ever seen even more in love with the parenthetical interruption of his own stream of thought than I am. Read this book, because it will totally change how you think about food.

Coming up next: integrating these ideas into the Plan B diet.

Baby-led weaning

A couple of weeks ago, on my post about baby food and the culture of fear, Marianne left a little comment about “baby-led weaning.” (Don’t you love Marianne’s comments? Her perspective as a teacher is awesome!) She suggested I google the term, so I did.

And I was enlightened!

After doing a lot of skimming on the subject, I’ve gleaned that baby-led weaning (or, baby-led solids) is an alternative way of getting your baby to eat solids by bypassing the spoonfed purees and soupy cereals stage. Instead, from as early as baby is able to hold up his (or her, but I’ll stick to the male gender because it’s all I know!) head and grasp something the shape and size of your finger, you provide baby with an array of finger foods and let him pick and choose whatever he wants.

The theory says that baby will first lick and then start to chew on and eat food when he’s biologically ready to do so. The benefit is that baby will learn to listen to his own hunger cues and regulate his intake accordingly. Babies are also (they say) less likely to become fussy because they are exposed to a wide variety of textures and flavours right from the beginning. And finally, they profess that baby will be happier eating at the same time as and the same food as the rest of the family.

I’m skeptical of the latter points above, but have nonetheless embraced a baby-led weaning for most of Lucas’s meals. In fact, I’d been leaning toward this anyway, without being aware of the theory. (Kind of how I stumbled into attachment parenting, too.) I posted before about how happy I was the day that Lucas was able to cram his own Cheerios into his gob, if only for the liberation it allowed me. Now, I find that the ideas encapsulated by baby-led weaning mesh rather nicely with my own new eating habits and ideals. I think a lot of this is strongly influenced, too, by the fact that as a family we are eating much more healthily that we were back when Tristan and Simon were babies. Baby-led weaning liberates me to eat my dinner while it’s relatively warm AND saves me preparing a completely separate meal for him. In other words, it’s better for me, and it’s ALWAYS about what’s best for me, right?

The result is that Lucas’s introduction to the world of solids has been considerably different than that of his brothers. For one, I waited a little longer. (Tristan and Simon were both on baby cereal at four months.) Second, I’m offering him foods that I would never have thought a baby of not-quite eight months old can eat — cucumber spears, potato chunks, kidney beans, raw apple slices, broccoli and cauliflower florets, diced ham and chicken and steak, even bits of spinach. And he eats it all, with gusto. There’s nothing that I’ve offered him so far that he’s refused. As a matter of fact, that’s where the baby-led weaning theory falls apart for us. His satiety cues seem to be broken, or maybe he’s still recovering from his early hunger issues, but he will eat and eat and eat until he’s eaten the cubic equivalent of his body weight and then go back for more!

I haven’t completely abandoned the spoonfeeding, though. For one thing, I think one of the great joys of life with a baby is watching that round little mouth in an O of expectation as baby waits for the next spoonful. Second, I’m rounding out his veggie intake with purees because he doesn’t have any teeth yet, and even steamed veggies are a little tough to masticate without them. And third, I still want him to have iron-fortified cereal every couple of days (although he eats tonnes of bread — it’s his favourite!) and we’ve just introduced those fromage frais minis that babies love so much.

But I wanted to say a public and thorough thank you to Marianne for opening my eyes to baby-led weaning, and to let y’all know about it, too. It’s a direction I was drifting on my own, but after a spin around the interwebs I found lots of stuff that’s helped me implement the majority of the theories of baby-led weaning.

Outdoor preschool launched in Carp

This is something new: in the little suburban Ottawa community of Carp, they’re launching an all-outdoors all-the-time preschool. According to the CBC:

Children will play outside all day, rain or shine, in warm or wintry weather at Canada’s first outdoor preschool.

The Carp Ridge Forest Pre-School promises its students few comforts like plastic toys, climate control, or electric power when it opens in about two months in Ottawa’s rural western outskirts.

Instead, it boasts a garden, trails through the woods, and a tent-like shelter called a yurt, and aims to help children aged three to six connect with nature.

They’re on a 77 acre lot, and there is a building there if the temps drop below -10C (approx 10F, I think) or if there is danger from lightning. Otherwise, the kids play outdoors.

At first, I snickered and said, “No way.” Then I thought about it a bit more, and I think the idea is growing on me. I think I might lean to something a little more moderate (maybe half the time outside?) but I love the idea and am tickled that it’s happening more or less in our neighbourhood.

What do you think?

Edited to add:
completely by coincidence, I was standing in line at Tim Horton’s this morning, flipping through the neighbourhood weekly, and came across a reference to the Outdoor Education Council of Ottawa. I was curious, so I looked them up on the web:

Outdoor Education Council of Ottawa (OECO) is a council of Outdoor Education providers in the Ottawa area including the Ottawa-Carleton District School Board, the National Capital Region YMCA-YWCA, Friends of Lasting Outdoor Education and the three Conservation Authorities serving the Ottawa area – the Mississippi Valley Conservation Authority, Rideau Valley Conservation Authority and the South Nation Conservation Authority. The Council was established with the over-arching goal of increasing the accessibility for students and the community to outdoor environmental education programs.

OECO Outdoor Education programs: Whether it is a program that combines First Nations’ ecological knowledge with scientific information to explain forest and watershed management, a recreation-based program focused on outdoor skills for day campers, an experiential program designed to encourage a love of nature, an in-school program aimed at making links between our lifestyles and environmental degradation or a hands-on program tied to educational learning objectives in specific subjects and grades, all the members of the Council are delivering Outdoor Education programs that provide valuable knowledge and important life experiences for the children in the region.

I had no idea. Very interesting! I see that they list the public school board as partners but not the Catholic school board. Think I might have to look further into this one!

And one further coincidence on outdoor education programs: today, Tristan’s school is having an outdoor activity day. I had completely forgotten about it! Instead of all day in the classroom with two outdoor breaks, they spend all day outdoors with two indoor breaks. And the temperature this morning? A chilly zero degrees, bang on the freezing mark!

Another parenting milestone: come pick up your bloodied child

I knew it was coming. I guess I should count myself lucky to have made it two years into his scholastic career before it happened. I certainly count myself lucky for having been home to take the call when it came in.

“Hello, this is the school. Your little guy is here — he’s fine, but he’s taken a tumble, and you might want to come and get him. His nose was bleeding pretty badly, and he has a couple of scrapes.”

I’d been on my way to the grocery store and almost missed the call. Luckily, Simon was already outside in his coat and shoes. I finished the diaper change I’d been in the middle of and bundled up the baby in his car seat, and we were at the school in about five minutes. Poor Tristan was still shaking, and his little heart was racing. He’d been rolling down the hill with his friend, got dizzy and lost control. Then hit the pavement. Ouch. I’ve been trying to figure out exactly how a body hits the pavement to leave a welt two inches above his knee, on his hip, on the inside of his elbow and from the tip of his nose down his mouth to his chin. *cringe* Apparently his nose bled quite profusely.

I was highly impressed with the school. By the time I arrived, his teacher was there with another teacher who might have been a nurse. They’d bundled him up and were talking gently to him. His teacher had even given him a couple of Hershey’s Kisses, which had melted into chocolate-foil blobs in his clenched fist. His teacher offered to help us out to the car, and her concern for Tristan was obvious. A yucky thing to happen, for sure, but I was pleased by the reaction of both the school and his teacher.

Poor kid’s got his mother’s dexterity. He’s doomed.

Granny’s Revenge

I was flipping through Tristan’s baby calendar the other day, comparing Tristan and Lucas at seven months of age. (Heartbreakingly, I seem to have lost my 2004 kitchen calendar with all of Simon’s baby milestones. I have every other year since 2001; I’m hoping it presents itself out of the clutter one of these days.) It was interesting to compare my first and my third. I can see, for instance, that they’re nearly the same weight, give or take half a pound on twenty pounds. (Simon, I seem to remember, hit 20 lbs around four months of age!)

What really surprised me, though, was that Tristan was standing and “cruising the furniture” and up on his hands and knees rocking in a pre-crawl motion at this age whereas Lucas has only just reliably mastered sitting up. I’m sure this has everything to do with their own developmental clocks and nothing to do with the fact that every time Lucas begins to lift himself up I sweep his knees out from under him and squash him back down to the ground. Sorry, kid, I’m just not ready for you to get mobile. How’s two years from now by you?

On the other hand, my mother is on the cusp of getting banned from the house. Every time she gets near Lucas, she’s got him standing up on his feet, holding him while he bounces and encouraging him to walk. And muttering something about “Granny’s Revenge.” I don’t think she believes me, but so help me I’ll ban her from the house if she teaches that baby to walk before his first birthday!

Putting the kids on the payroll

Last month, we started giving the big boys an allowance. Tristan and Simon each get $2 a week, paid each Saturday. Simon now thinks of the weekend not as a day without school, but as the day he gets paid. That didn’t take long!

We debated for a bit about whether to tie the allowance to chores. I’ve seen it argued both ways: either you do, and the kids have to do their chores to get paid, or you pay the allowance out of the benevolence of your parental goodness and the chores are something that are done simply as a cost of being a member of the family. In the end, we leaned more toward the latter, but I have already threatened Tristan a few times with withholding part of his allowance if he didn’t do a better job of keeping up with his chores.

At four and six, their chores are fairly simple. They are also things I am not overly fond of doing. Fancy that! Simon is responsible for putting away the cutlery after the dishwasher is run, which happens at least once a day. Tristan is responsible for giving the dog food and water twice a day. They are both responsible for putting their schoolbags in their cubbies, putting their own clothes in the laundry hamper, and cleaning up after themselves if they’ve made a particularly spectacular mess (art projects come to mind.) I’m working on getting them to clear their breakfast dishes, too. And they’re on the hook for assignment of random chores, too: bring this basket of laundry upstairs, shuck this corn (that was a fun one!), go entertain your baby brother for two minutes while mommy finishes this blog post. So far, they’ve not only endured their chores without complaint but have actually said they like their assigned tasks. I’m obviously not working them hard enough!

The tricky part has been letting them spend their money on whatever they want. To me, the allowance is as much about introducing money management as it is about chores. So far, Tristan has spent the entirety of his allowance each week on Pokemon cards. Sigh. It’s his money, though, and he’s earned it, so we’ve been letting him get what he wants even though his mother is mildly offended by the idea of a universe in which Pokemon exists.

Even though he’s younger, it’s Simon who seems to be more willing to save up for something for a couple of weeks. He’s got his eye on a black cat Webkinz that would cost about two months worth of allowance. We’ll see if he makes it that far. He also said he’s saving for a remote control R2D2 they saw at the retro toy store. It’s only $169. Think he’ll still want it in a year and a half?

How do you work allowance and chores with your kids?

Twittermoms: the friendliest site on the interwebs

As I mentioned recently, I’ve been spending a lot of time on Twitter. Microblogging (you’re limited to a paltry 140 characters) appeals to where I am right now… only one thought at a time need be expressed, without editorializing or rambling. It’s kind of refreshing.

Twitter must have been featured at the latest BlogHer or something, because all of a sudden this summer all my favourite mom bloggers showed up on Twitter, and that was cool, too.

Any site with the raging popularity of Twitter has plenty of people lining up with add-on features and clone sites. This morning, I stumbled upon TwitterMoms, a social networking site for moms who tweet on Twitter. I noticed that TechCrunch had a post up about them, and I’m a sucker for signing up for new toys, so I joined and took about three minutes to poke around. I’d hardly taken a boo at the front page when Lucas ran out of Cheerios and I left the computer to get on with my morning.

There’s a good chance that I would have likely forgotten completely about the site by now, like so many of the sites I’ve signed up for in the last year or so. (I’m an irrepressible joiner, and I especially love to join things when they’re new.) We went out, ran a few errands, and when we got home I popped on the computer to check my e-mail… and found my inbox full of messages from Twittermoms. In just a couple of hours, I had half a dozen welcome notes written on my “wall” and four friend requests. Yikes! Real messages, too, not just computer-generated ones. It’s a little bit scary, actually. I guess I’m used to the old days on the bulletin boards, when you had to hang around and prove yourself before you started making friends. I’ve never seen people come running out of the woodwork to say hello before.

I feel kind of bad accepting those “friend” requests, even if they are from complete strangers. But considering my bloglines account is practically bulging at the seams and my Facebook status hasn’t been updated in a month or more, I don’t know when I’ll next get around to TwitterMoms again. If you’re looking for a new place to hang around, they’re certainly a friendly crew over there!