But I  -
I love it when you sing to me
And you -
You can sing me anything

~Peter Gabriel

And to my children, I have sung pretty much anything & everything to help them to sleep.  As a teen & 20-something, I sang in several choirs.  Many of those songs stayed with me; so naturally, when I became a lullaby-singing parent (to a colicky infant who required constant motion & song) my favorite English Madrigals, Sacred Songs, and Spirituals came right to mind. I admit, to not only not knowing (or bothering to learn) many “lullabies”, but to preferring interesting lyric & melody over repetitive humdrum (think Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star – ack!). As a result most of what I’ve sung as stand-ins are neither particularly light nor baby-related.  Not that rock-a-bye baby is light of lyric. Baby falling from a tree – sheesh.

Yet, certain songs I love to sing, and as a bonus, over the years I’ve found really work well to help baby (or toddler, or child) sleep. (Babies don’t care one lick what the words are; just keep singing.  And toddlers think my Latin is hilarious).

I’ll share with you some of my most beloved bedtime songs (random choirs on you tube just so you can get the tune – I do not vouch for the quality!):

Ride The Chariot (my son’s favorite)

I'm gonna ride the chariot
In the morning Lord
I'm gonna ride

Ride the chariot
In the morning Lord

I’m getting ready for the judgment day

My Lord, My Lord

Are you ready my brother/sister?

Oh yes

Are you ready for the journey

Oh yes

Do you want to see your Jesus

Oh yes, I’m waiting for the chariot ‘cause I’m ready to go

I never will forget that day
When all my sins were taken away
My feet were snatched from the miry clay

Blow The Candles Out  (my daughter’s favorite)

When I was ‘prenticed in Plymouth

I went to see my dear

The candles they were a-burning, the moon shone bright and clear

I knocked upon her window to ease her of her pain

She rose to let me in, then she barred the door again.

I like your good behavior darling, thus I often say

That I cannot rest contented while you are far away.

The winds they are so cold, that we cannot stay there out

So roll me in your arms, love, and blow the candles out.

Now Father & Mother in yonder room do lie

A-hugging one another, so why not you & I

A-hugging one another without a fear or doubt

So roll me in your arms, love, and blow the candles out.

Psallite! 

Psallite unigenito
Christo, Dei Filio,
Psallite Redemptori,
Domino, puerulo
jacenti in praesepio.
Ein kleines Kindelein liegt in dem Krippelein.
Alle lieben Engelein dienen dem Kindelein
und singen ihm fein.
Psallite unigenito...

(English Translation: Sing Your Psalms!

Sing your psalms to Christ,
the begotten Son of God,
sing your psalms to the Redeemer,
to the Lord, the little Child
lying in a manger bed.
A small Child lies in the manger.
All the blessed angels fall before Him
and sing.
Sing...)

The Silver Swan

The silver swan who living had no note
When death approached unlocked her silent throat
Leaning her breast against the reedy shore
Thus sung her first and last and sung no more:
Farewell all joys oh death come close my eyes
More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise

If Ye Love Me

If ye love me,
keep my commandments,
and I will pray the Father,
and he shall give you another comforter,
that he may abide with you forever,
e'en the spirit of truth.

Please share with me YOUR favorite bedtime songs!

Last night, my 2 yo had his first night terror. My 5 yo has not had them.  She’s awoken scared, had nightmares before, but last night was something different.  My son came running down the hall, screaming.  Blood curdling scream, like the kind that rips you out of a deep sleep in a sense of complete panic. I didn’t know where I was, where he was, I just knew he was terrified and I needed to save him – NOW. He was silhouetted in my bedroom doorway – the hallway nightlight illuminated behind him – he was rigid in fear – looking behind him and I ran to him & picked him up.  He was so terrified, gripped my neck in a panic & didn’t even cry for a couple of minutes – I believe he was still sleeping.  I just held him & let him know it was okay.  In a few minutes, I could tell he’d fully awoken and I helped him back to bed.  I told him he’d had a scary dream.  I asked him if he remembered it. He said yes.  I asked what it was about & he said: “Something was coming.  Something scary.”  My heart ached for him. I laid next to him while he settled back into sleep – and thankfully he slept peacefully the remainder of the night.

I have had night terrors my whole life.  My father had night terrors. I’d always assumed my children would.  Yet, when my daughter had not, I thought: hey, maybe we lucked out!  Maybe this peaceful, attachment parenting thing really works!  You’d think I’d have been ready for this.  Yet, when it happened last night, I didn’t feel ready.  I empathized with his terror, yet I felt so helpless.  I don’t want my children to have night terrors yet I can do nothing to stop it. Its not a good feeling to have.

I’ve posted on message boards & on twitter, sympathizing with & trying to reassure mothers who have experienced night terrors in their children; thinking somehow that my own personal experience would offer some help to them.  However, I’m not sure, now, having experienced one with my son, that anything really helps you get comfortable with being awoken by the panicked scream of your child. Experiencing it makes you want to know why & what. All those things that I’ve just gotten used to in myself, and dismissed as just part of my life, now I want to FIX for my baby. Yet, I know this isn’t something to be fixed.  It just is what it is. Its not damaging, and its not indicative of anything other a hereditary propensity towards an overactive mind in sleep. There’s some comfort in that.

Over the years, I’ve done some research into night terrors.  I’ve wanted to know why I have them, or at least know if other people have had them & what they are like for others. 

Unfortunately, the “why’s” of what really causes night terrors are still mostly unknown. Here’s what I do know about night terrors:

They are most common in young children, and usually go away on their own with time (typically by age 12, though many adults have them as well).

There is a hereditary component:  Parents who have/had night terrors often have children who experience night terrors.

They occur only in stage 4 (non-REM) sleep (which makes them different from nightmares which happen in any stage of sleep)

They don’t signify an underlying psychological problem.

Some people remember their night terrors after waking, some do not.

People having a night terror are typically not aware of what’s going on around them, and may not be able to be awakened.  They may appear awake, breathing quickly, high heart rate, but are still sleeping.

Many people see animals or people threatening them; but the things they see (spiders, etc.) are not the things they are typically afraid of during waking hours.

They tend to happen more often when a person is overtired or over stimulated.

Night terrors on their own are not harmful though they can occur with sleepwalking – so room should be safe from objects on which children could hurt themselves; top-of-stairs gates should be closed.

There is some evidence of a link to hypoglycemia.

Some tips from my own experience:

Comfort & hug the person having the night terror – speak & move gently.

Gently waking is okay, though never force a waking – its sometimes even more frightening to be woken during/after a night terror, because at least in my experience, it takes me time to reacclimatize to “reality” vs. dream state, I’m very agitated (heart rate can get up between 160 – 170 in studies done on night terrors) and I can’t fall back to sleep easily.

Sleeping with an air purifier (for white noise), and no nightlight helps me immensely because my stage 4 sleep is not interrupted by sudden noises or light (these are both triggers for me).

Unfamiliar places tend to trigger my night terrors (say, on vacation). Before sleep in these instances, I make sure to familiarize myself with the room. 

I try to eat something small before bed – some yogurt, a banana, etc.

I do hope that my son will outgrow night terrors – he’s only had one so far.  And maybe it will be the only one! In the meantime, I feel comfortable that they aren’t damaging, and from my experience, as annoying as they may be long-term, there are certainly worse things someone could live with.

A few sites about night terrors that may be helpful:

Night Terrors Resource Center

Dr. Sears – Night Terrors

Wikipedia: Night Terror/Pavor Nocturnus

National Institute of Health

“The secret is that you are already a completely whole, perfect person.” – from The Secret by Mavis Karn

In 2004, while in my 9^th month of pregnancy with my persistently frank breech daughter, I was in a chiropractor’s office, waiting to be seen.  I couldn’t believe I was there, but there I was. Up until that point, I’d tried everything under the sun to encourage my daughter to turn around: elephant walking on hands & feet, standing on my head, doing somersaults under water, putting cold peas on her “head”, playing music to & having Adam talk to her “butt”, shining a flashlight from the top of my belly down to the bottom, doing shoulder stands for entire lengths movies, visualizing optimal fetal position, moxibustion, praying, begging, hoping, and wishing she’d turn, even 2 failed external cephalic version attempts (don’t try this, ladies, trust me – its horrible). I’d done everything except seeing a chiropractor. In my 38 weeks, I was beyond the time that I was told she’d even have a chance of turning on her own, and with a heavy heart, I’d even consented to seeing an OB at my last midwife appointment, and scheduling a c-section. I felt defeated. We'd planned a natural birth.  We'd done everything right.  But things just weren't going as planned.  So, feeling I had nothing to lose, I decided to call this chiropractor.  I’d read something about the Webster Technique but, I’d never in my life been to a chiropractor. I didn’t really know what they did, and had this feeling that it wasn’t “real” medicine (just so you know where I was coming from 5 years ago), so I’d just been all around hesitant to see one.  Yet, I tried moxibustion – a smoldering herbal stick millimeters from my little toe while standing on a block – go figure.  Anyhow, the week before the section was scheduled, I looked online for a chiropractor in my area (which, at the time, was extremely rural) who also happened to be certified in the Webster technique, who would also accept a patient who was about to have a baby any day now, and lo & behold, I found one right away, and she told me to come right in. So there I sat, in a state of doubt, disbelief, and nervousness.  Couldn’t believe I was there, didn’t believe it would work, and worried about what she’d do to me. As I was obsessively mulling my thoughts, I looked up, and there was a yellow poster on the wall:  THE SECRET By MAVIS KARN it read. 

I read on:

…I have a secret to tell you.  Nobody meant to keep it from you… it’s just that it’s been one of those things that’s so obvious that people couldn’t see it… like looking all over for the key that you have in your hand….

Intriguing, right? Anyhow, I read the whole thing through, waiting there. And reread it. And as I read, I felt a lightening of my heart. That maybe everything really was going to turn out okay.  

I was called back to the exam room, and over the next hour (it seemed) the doctor talked to me, listened to me, educated me a bit about chiropractic, and eventually performed the Webster Technique.  She told me of other patients she’d had who experienced immediate turning of their babies, some whose babies turned soon afterwards, some who took a few visits, some who didn’t. When my visit was over, I thought to myself, at least I can now go into my C-section in three days knowing for certain that I’d done everything I could do.

And as I was leaving the office, the poster caught my eye again, and again I read:

… The secret is that you are already a completely whole, perfect person.  You are not damaged goods, you are not incomplete, you are not flawed, you are not unfinished…

I asked the receptionist if she knew where I could get a copy – which she didn’t, though she offered to send me a copy (which I remember not really believing she would). 

As I climbed back in my car & headed home, I remember feeling my daughter move around.  A lot. And if you know what it’s like in those last weeks, there’s not much moving going on anymore.  Movement that does occur is more contained, crowded, confined.  But let me tell you, she was MOVING on that trip. And moving all evening long.  And all night long. 

Two days later, the evening before my scheduled C-section, I went to my OB’s office for a final check of position.  Lo & behold, my daughter was HEADS DOWN.  She actually was so excited for me, she told me she’d put her knives back in the closet & go away & I can have my midwives back (yes, she did actually say this, ask Adam)!

My daughter ended up being born only 2 days shy of her “due date”, 31 laboring hours after my water broke.  I made it mostly naturally & then later medicated (and let me tell you oh doubters, it IS possible for an epidural NOT to work, and for the needle to cause MORE pain than a contraction) to 10 cm, and had pushed, and pushed…  But she was posterior for my entire labor (OW!) and was presenting her forehead to the world.  My midwife said she could feel her eyebrows with every push, but just couldn’t get a good hold of her. Vacuum was out of the question due to position, and forceps were not used in the hospital where I delivered. So she was delivered via C-section after all. The doctor actually got the vacuum out during the section because my daughter was so completely stuck in my pelvis (though in the end, it wasn’t used, thankfully).

The birth of my daughter was the most amazing, scary, and incredible experience of my life.  She was so perfect & just how I'd dreamt how she'd look.  But I’d say my transition from pregnancy to parenthood wasn't exactly a smooth ride. She was born with ABO incompatibility (basically, she was allergic to my blood; Dr's were stymied & no one seemed to know exactly what was happening).  My milk didn’t come in for several days, we were in the hospital for a week, and the C-section made just sitting up hard work. But with the help of a wonderful lactation nurse (she's definitely gaining points in her karma bank), I was able to work out a system to keep my daughter & her incubator in our room, wake her every 2 hrs (extremely jaundiced babies have a hard time waking & latching, and need around the clock light therapy in addition to timed waking to feed in order to move the bilirubin out of their systems so as to avoid a transfusion or other serious complications), nurse her with the help of an SNS filled with formula & whatever miniscule amounts of colostrum I could produce (liquid gold, I tell you.  Even 10 drops was worth celebrating.  I recall the joy I’d feel each day being able to put just a bit more of my milk in the SNS, and just a bit less of the formula in), put her back in to the isolette, hook myself up to the pump, and perhaps catch a couple moments of rest before the next waking.

Needless to say, were we ever so happy to be given the green light to go home at the end of that week!  But getting off of formula & the SNS over the next couple weeks, and getting on to nursing certainly wasn’t a party.  I spent HOURS in my rocking chair.  Literally hours. Reading & rereading Dr. Sears. And my dear baby was colicky as well. And wouldn’t lay down without waking (What is a crib used for, again?  I really don’t know, though at the time we thought that's where babies were supposed to sleep - silly parents!). So if I wasn’t marathon nursing, I was walking, and bouncing, and shushing, and singing, and doing every possible thing one could do to soothe a screaming baby.  It wasn’t pretty.  I don’t remember much very clearly in those early days.  Except that I didn’t sleep. At all. Until I figured out how to nurse side-lying, and cosleep.

One day I remember sitting in my chair, feeling more than a bit sorry for myself & how my life had changed so much & how hard it was being a new mom, and thinking I should go get the mail, but not willing to move, because, oh thank all that is good & holy, the baby was ASLEEP, and she did have ultra Mommy is moving radar. But this day I risked it, and there, in the mail… Well, that receptionist, she DID actually send me a copy of “The Secret”!  And that simple poster did SO MUCH GOOD for me in those early weeks of physically recovering from a C-section, emotionally recovering from not getting the natural birth I’d planned on, learning to breastfeed without an SNS (and without family or support - we lived hundreds of miles away from our families, and in the middle of the woods), and adjusting to life as a mother of this amazing little person, no longer just a woman & wife who can do whatever she wants whenever she wants, but a MOTHER (this deserves all caps) of someone who depends completely on me and doesn’t care one lick about my routines or desires (nor should she).  It was an amazing, difficult, and not always happy or smooth transition. But reading that poster always managed to bring me back to what was important in life: my beautiful daughter & my wonderful husband.  Brought me back to the realization that I had the ability to change my thinking; to feel good instead of bad, to appreciate all that was amazing about our new journey into parenthood instead of lamenting over what life used to be like or how I thought my birth could have gone. I realized that I was, and am, every moment, in control of choosing to feel positive & grateful over negative & unappreciative. I wish I knew Mavis so I could thank her.

I still have that photocopy hanging on my desk to this day. I’m writing it word for word here because I truly think it’s worth sharing (forgive any typos, please – they are entirely my fault).  Thanks for reading & hope you enjoy:

Dear Kids (and former kids),

I have a secret to tell you. Nobody meant to keep it from you... It’s just that it’s been one of those things that’s so obvious that people couldn’t see it... like looking all over for the key that you have in your hand.

The secret is that you are already a completely whole, perfect person. You are not damaged goods, you are not incomplete, you are not flawed, you are not unfinished, you do not need remodeling, fixing, polishing, or major rehabilitation. You already have everything you need to live a wonderful life. You have common sense, wisdom, genius, creativity, humor, self-esteem... you are pure potential... you are missing nothing.

The only thing that can keep you from enjoying all that you already are is a thought. One thought. Your thought. Not someone else’s thought. Your thought... Whatever you are thinking at the moment that feels more important to think than feeling grateful, alive, content, joyful, optimistic, loving, and at peace.... that’s the only think that’s between you and happiness.

And guess who’s in charge of your thinking... guess who gets to decide where your attention goes... guess who gets to write, produce, direct, and star in the moment you’re in the middle of ... you. Just you. Not your past (stored thoughts), not the future (did you notice that it never, ever, shows up?), not your parents (they all think their own thoughts), not your friends (ditto), or school or television, or situations or circumstances or anything else. Just you.

Thinking is an awesome capability. Like any capability it can be used either as a tool or as a weapon against ourselves and others. And just like with any other tool, we can tell whether we’re using it for or against ourselves by how it feels. When we think against ourselves or others, we get in trouble. When we don’t, we usually say out of trouble.

FEELINGS EXIST TO WARN US AWAY FROM USING OUR THINKING TO CREATE TROUBLE IN OUR LIVES AND TO GUIDE US BACK TO OUR NATURAL, HEALTHY ABILITY TO LIVE OUR LIVES TO THE FULLEST.

So,… please remember that your thoughts are not always telling you the truth. When we’re in low moods, feeling down, our thoughts are not to be trusted… Our IQ’s drop. When our thoughts pass we lighten up, our thinking is once again creative, positive… our IQ’s go up. The only way you can feel badly about yourself and your life is if you think badly about them… it’s up to you, every single minute you’re alive. It’s always up to you! This is the best, most liberating secret I ever learned, and I want you to know it too.

With Love,
Mavis

(1999, Mavis L. Karn) 

I’m an avid reader, a bookworm, a bibliophile.  I try to have at least 2 books going at once.  That’s not precisely a goal, its just that with children, I’ve found I really have to do it that way; one for the car (when they fall asleep), one next to the bed (before I fall asleep), and one just lying conveniently around the house for when I am feeling like I might fall asleep, yet children are requiring my presence, and I need to rejuvenate, just for a moment.  Do you catch a theme, here?  I’ve worked in libraries (though I’m not actually a librarian, perhaps in another life I was, or will be).  I can specifically recall how old I was & even where I was while reading certain books (i.e. fourth grade library circle time, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S.Lewis). I have a really hard time throwing an old book away, and would definitely count reading in my top 5 things to do.  Maybe even top 3: One being family time. Two being reading. Three being eating a quality piece of dark chocolate. Of course, you can read while eating chocolate, so maybe that really needs to share spot number two. :)

So it comes as no surprise that our 4 yo is fast becoming a big reader, too. We’ve read to our children since they each were in utero. I vividly remember  5 years ago, going out with Adam, picking out Dr. Seuss’ ABC book & taking turns reading aloud to my growing belly. Our children have far more books than toys. Or clothes. Actually, more books than both combined; and I’m even counting individual socks. I can stop a tantrum dead in its tracks just by saying, “Would you like me to read a book?”  We just have this thing for books, you know?  Maybe it’s that I really can’t find a single thing wrong with a book.  Too expensive?  Well, you really can’t quantify the properties of a good book.  And besides, I’m not one to turn up my nose to a used book store or yard ($.25 copy of Go Dog Go? Could a person POSSIBLY say no to that?)  Okay, so how about too sedentary? Well, I’ve been known to (try to, anyhow) read on the treadmill. Or while doing dishes.  Or cooking. So that’s a nonstarter. Too… I dunno?  I really can’t think of anything else that could possibly be listed as a detriment of a book. They make great gifts, are portable, interesting, exciting, the list goes on. Assuredly, there are less-than-riveting stories, and less-than-eloquent authors, but I just can’t fathom not reading just to avoid potential literary disappointment. We love books. Anyhow, I digress…

When I say our 4 yo is becoming a big reader, I mean, she reads anything & everything she can get her eyes on and wants to know exactly what everything means in the words, not just what they say: signs “Mom, but why can’t you turn on red?”, magazines, mail, books – mine & hers. She writes letters to me & her brother. She plays Boggle. (Even by herself, if I’m not readily available). And when all other word options have been exhausted, she waits ever so patiently for her brother to guess the right letter when quizzing him on the alphabet (totally unprompted by me, I really must add), and does quite a good job at hiding her astonishment in the realization that her 2yo cohort can’t yet read.

So it was when she was reading my book over my shoulder, trying to piece together context from difficult words she was mostly correctly sounding out, that I came to the realization that she truly has a passion for words. In most things, I’m a “prepare the environment & let the child explore” type of parent. But in this case, maybe because her enthusiasm for books is so close to my own heart, I’m willing to take a bit more active role in fostering this passion.  

With that in mind, I decided to sit down & think of my most beloved early books; both ones read to me, and ones I read on my own.  I’ve compiled a list, for your enjoyment, and my reference; as I plan to work my way through these books, reading to her & with her, topic-appropriately (meaning, while I can’t wait to share 1984 with my children, I’m not sure they’re quite ready for Big Brother & Newspeak).

I hope that in reviewing the list, some titles will bring back memories, as they have for me! And if there’s something missing, please feel free to comment & share your own most treasured childhood books.

Happy reading.

Kelly’s Most Favorite Books (pre-adolescence):

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

The Boxcar Children by Gertrude Chandler Warner

Bridge to Terabithia  by Katherine Paterson

Charlie & The Chocolate Factory  by Roald Dahl

Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis

The Cricket in Times Square by George Selden

From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E.L. Konigsburg

Heidi by Johanna Spyri

The Incredible Journey by Sheila Burnford

Mrs. Piggle Wiggle by Betty MacDonald 

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt

Watership Down by Richard Adams

Where The Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle

When talking about my childhood, I have always (somewhat proudly, I’ll admit) said my mother never let us eat junk food. Perhaps more truthfully, what I really mean is that we weren’t allowed to have Kool Aid or Froot Loops (to the detriment of many a juvenescent friendship: yes, in the 70’s/80’s that made me just, plain, weird.). And, instead of Fla-vor-ice, we had homemade orange juice Tupperware popsicles (more weird).  However, I clearly remember we had tins of Charles Chips delivered to our house on a regular schedule.  So, never say “never” to junk food, I guess. But my mom DID teach us to read food labels.  And as such, we learned that “artificial colors” and “artificial flavors” were to be avoided at all costs. “All natural” was the way to be.

Around age 15, I decided, rather abruptly, at a family picnic in fact, to become a vegetarian. As in, “What do you want on your hot dog, Kel?" "Hot dog?! I don't eat hot dogs, that’s disgusting!” (Oh the grace of a teenager).  Of course, back then, (late 80’s/early 90’s), the only vegetarian “meat-replacement” item out there was tofu dogs.  One brand: Utterly Nasty, I believe they were called. So my vegetarianism, for many years, equaled cheese fries and grilled cheese. I didn’t actually learn that cheese wasn’t a valid substitute for all things flesh until several years later into my herbivore travels.  My mother was constantly concerned that I wasn’t “getting enough protein”, and in her defense, the conventional wisdom of the time was the vague notion of protein combining which stated that you had to combine several sources of “incomplete proteins” at each & every meal, meal in order to achieve nutrition perfection. Needless to say, back then, I lived under the constant hazy apprehension that I would keel over one day from LACK OF COMPLETE PROTEIN. I am, as a side note, for those concerned, still thriving nineteen years later, sans “complete protein”.

Shortly after the vegetarianism decision, I met my (then meat-eating, now nearly vegan) husband, Adam. We have since continued on this journey towards all things more natural together, and when I refer to I as we on this adventure, from here on out you’ll know who I mean. :)

We took a big step towards “all natural” when my daughter was conceived.  Suddenly, scanning food labels for the dreaded ARTIFICIAL FLAVORS/COLORS became less of a habit and more of an obsession.  I started questioning OTHER ingredients, like, say for instance, glycerol ester of wood rosin (yes, this is an actual ingredient) in our drinks or BHT in our food.

And I started looking at other labels too, not just at what we ingested, but at the potentially damaging ingredients in what we put on our skin (and how all of these things might potentially affect the growing baby inside of me!). We began the slow but satisfying process of getting rid of the items we were used to using every day like antibacterial soaps or saccharine-laden toothpaste, and replacing them with more natural substitutes.

About 6 months after our daughter was born, once she started tasting things other than breast milk, we realized that she had some food sensitivities.  We had inklings of this from just a few weeks old – angry patches of eczema on her otherwise perfect baby skin, and stubborn cradle cap that wouldn’t go away (for years), and oh yes, how can I forget (seriously, HOW can I forget; Hello McFly): colic. When she was around 10 months old, she went back to all breast milk, and I went on an elimination diet (a la Dr. Sears – pediatrician extraordinaire) and switched all baby products to California Baby, and the eczema, and colic, drastically improved.   

That experience, in fact the whole of our last nearly 5 years of parenthood (an amazing journey in itself) has introduced us to some truly scary things, such as the presence of synthetic hormones in dairy (rBGH), the controversy surrounding soy milk & hormone disruption (in light of that info, we ditched soymilk altogether, and switched to organic grass-fed milk), the presence of phthalate, lead, and BPA in toys and food/drink containers, and the prevalence of indoor air pollution (in light of those frightening revelations, we've been working on choosing safer plastics, using zero-voc paint to paint the kids' room, and choosing only toxin-free cleaning products). But it's brought to light some awesome things as well, such as the amazing abilities of probiotics and herbs/essential oils in healing & cleaning! 

Join me on my travels as I blog about what I’ve learned so far & continue to learn about natural living, vegetarian & healthy eating, and greenifying our lives overall... with a little attachment parenting, breastfeeding, Montessori schooling, perennial gardening, serious puzzling, music, art, & literature thrown in. Namaste!