I need to say...

A couple of months ago someone I know and love put a video on their blog. It was a special comment by Kieth Olbermann about the "myth" of death panels. (If you watch it, don't forget to catch part 2.) If you recall, during the debate over health care, some supposed that there would be "death panels" created to determine whether or not a person was deserving of the expense of the medical care called for. Opinions about the possibility of these "death panels" were passionately expressed, including that of Mr. Olbermann. His father is in the hospital for an extended stay because of his health issues. A particular night stood out in Mr. Olbermann's memory wherein his father was in serious pain and distress. The concerned son and the physician consulted together and made some decisions about pain medication, etc. that eventually relieved the elder Mr. Olbermann's distress. This, says Mr. Olbermann, is what a death panel really is. Just concerned parties responsibly and jointly making decisions for the good of the patient. Far from the scary specter of a disinterested and distant collection of nameless faces dictating life or death. My fellow blogger posted it and expressed her agreement with his point of view, as his situation echoed her experience during the death of her mother from cancer. It is very hard to refute very emotionally-based expressions of opinion such as this. I heartily disagree with the idea of state mandated health care, and even more with a state-run, state-mandated health care system. Due to the highly emotional nature of this video, it had a serious impact on my thinking, and I have had it in the back of my mind for months, thinking about how the story told and the opinion expressed affected my own.

Starting a few months back, I have been observing a situation that developed with some friends of mine, and it stands in sharp contrast with Mr. Olbermann's experience. A friend's husband wasn't feeling well last December, went to the doctor, and was diagnosed with acute lymphoma. He's young, maybe thirty, self-employed, with a young family. Because of his employment situation, he qualified for Medicaid and went into treatment. He didn't respond to the chemotherapy and radiation as well as they would like, and his physicians recommended a bone marrow transplant. However, the board that reviews such things decided, based on his overall response to treatment, that his prognosis did not warrant the expense of said transplant. He was denied. Never mind his doctors recommendation. Never mind his determination to beat this disease. Never mind his family and their need for a father and husband. Even if treatment extended his life by only a year or two, think what that would mean to his 7 and 5-year-old. Another year or two is an eternity to these kids. Their memories of their father would be so much more clear if they could grow just a little bit older with him. Think what those few years would mean to the wife who is right now carrying his youngest child. Even a year would allow him to be present at the birth of his child, to share that experience with his family. What would you give for an extra year with your loved ones? Can you put a price on it? The odds were against his recovery, though, so Medicaid declined to cover the treatment. If he could pay for it himself, he was welcome to get the transplant, but with a $30,000 price tag, that was impossible. If he had private insurance (at least my insurance), the insurance would have had to pay. The contract requires them to pay for covered expenses based on doctor's recommendations. But not Medicaid. There is a faceless panel of persons somewhere looking at numbers and making life or death decisions for this family, and they decided his life was not worth the expense.

That, Mr. Olbermann, is a death panel. And that is what we fear.

Mr. Olbermann says his father has Medicare, like my friend, plus some supplemental insurance. They were both covered by the government, but if I had to guess which of the two above experiences would be more likely in a government-run health care system, I would say my friend's situation would be far more likely. We all know how efficient large government entities are, right? We've dealt with them. And therefore I say, emphatically, "No thank you!" I'm not interested. Let me be responsible for my family.

I do agree that change is needed in this country. First: Overhaul the insurance business to allow for freer access by the general public. Get the government out of the pockets of the insurance business and quit protecting insurance with endless regulations and controls. Allow more free-market competition into the business, because if there is a profit to be made from running an business well, someone will be there to make it. It is the stifling regulation that keeps insurance business free from innovative, efficient new-comers. Get the government OUT and allow the free market to dictate what kinds of insurance the people want. Government needs only ensure that contracts made are contracts honored. Second: Clean up the Medicare/Medicaid industry so there is a safety net available to those who, for whatever reason, cannot afford private health care. But it should be viewed as the unemployment system is viewed, as a temporary measure, something available when needed, but only for a short time, to help until one can take care of oneself again. Third: Allow those who are arrogant enough to ignore the need for insurance to fail. If you are gainfully employed and choose not to have insurance, that you should be forced to accept the consequences of that choice. Perhaps you will get cancer and subsequently not be able qualify for insurance because of that pre-existing condition. Then either you go without treatment, or you go bankrupt trying to pay for the treatment you couldn't afford. But that choice, that gamble, was yours. If insurance is affordable and readily available and you choose not to avail yourself of it, then I say too bad.

This post may well be moot at this time. We'll have to stand by and see how the pending lawsuit about the constitutionality of requiring citizens to have insurance coverage goes. The system as it stands is broken. It needs serious overhaul. But I honestly see the alternative that is being forced upon the American public as more frightening than what exists now. Please don't force me into a system that allows me no choice, that dictates not only what treatments I can receive, but also what treatments I cannot. Let me choose for myself. That's the freedom I want, and the freedom I am constitutionally guaranteed.

On a completely different note...

Looking for images for the previous blog entry I happened across this image. Wow! Moms, please watch out how closely you guard the poisons in your home, because in our artificially colored world, kids can be so easily confused. This is the blog I found this image on. Looks like an interesting blog.

Summer treats

We are concerned about our sugar intake here at the LeBaron household. Research indicates that refined sugar (whether in the form of table sugar or high fructose corn syrup) is terrible for your body, causing all sorts of problems from obesity and diabetes to depressing your immune system. This lecture is one that I feel is descriptive and accurate, albeit quite long, and I would advise anyone concerned about their nutritional well-being to watch it when you get a chance. That being said, it's hard to find drinks and treats for the summer that aren't loaded with sugar. Kool-aid, Capri Sun, soda, and commercial Popsicles are just sugar water. Even commercial juices like Juicy Juice and Capri Sun Naturals are not good, because the "juice" they use is highly refined and there is no fiber left. But water gets old pretty quick, and who wants "water-pops"? My husband, who works out in the heat most of every summer day wants to drink something that replaces the salts he loses in his sweat, but I don't want to buy him Gatorade, because of the sugar thing, as well as the cost. What's a mom to do?

I've done a little research and found a couple of alternative sweeteners that we use to help reduce our dependence on traditional sugar. The first item we use is powdered stevia. I use stevia to boost the sweetness of cooked items like oatmeal and farina, as well as in things like yogurt smoothies and our hot morning drink, Kafree Roma (no, not coffee.) Stevia does have a unique flavor that does not lend itself to being the only sweetener in an item. It's better as a supplemental sweetener because it has sort of a one-note flavor and it can be bitter if you get too much of it. But stevia helps me cut way down on the sugar content of things that we expect to be sweet. I usually buy it in 1 oz. jar, but a serving of 1/16 of a teaspoon is plenty to sweeten a cup of drink, so you don't have to use much at all. I usually use 1/8 to 1/4 teaspoon at a time. An ounce of powder lasts several months at our house.

The other product I have found is dextrose (which is also known as glucose.) You may know that glucose is half of the sweetness component of table sugar (sucrose.) The other half is fructose, which is really the bad guy in the entire sugar business. So when I found out that I could buy glucose by itself, I was very anxious to try it. I bought a 50lb. bag from Honeyville Grain online. It costs about twice as much as table sugar, and is not nearly as sweet, so you end up using more than you otherwise would. It is more of a powder, so it doesn't even act like sugar in recipes. I'm working on developing recipes that I can use the glucose/dextrose in, but it's taking me a while. You also have to bear in mind that dextrose/glucose is still a nutritionally empty food. It's still tons of calories without any nutritional benefit, so you still need to be sparing with it's use, but it's great for those times when you really need to have a sweetener. Like when your husband wants Gatorade.

Here is my recipe for homemade Gatorade, which we are calling Dexterade for now (I would like to come up with a better name. LeBaronade? Nah.) You can buy potassium chloride under the brand name Morton Salt Substitute. I buy it in an 8oz. bottle from NOW foods, in the supplements section.

Homemade Electrolyte Replacement Drink (Maybe Summerade?)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2 pkg. Kool-aid mix (or other unsweetened punch powder)
1-1/2 c. dextrose
1/4 tsp. stevia
1/2 tsp. sea salt
1/2 tsp. potassium chloride
1 gallon water

Mix well.

For popsicles we use juice (real juice like orange juice from concentrate or home pressed apple juice), milk flavored with jam or fruit puree, yogurt smoothie, banana smoothie, half-strength pudding (2x milk), and rarely leftover soda. The kids love these and eagerly make the popsicles each morning so they are frozen by the time afternoon playtime comes around.

All in all, we hope to keep our sugar consumption down, because there will be times that soda or punch will be the only drink available, and there will be treats at parties, etc. I just do my best and try to remember the old adage, "God grant me courage to change the things I can change; the serenity to accept the things I cannot; and wisdom to know the difference."

Here are a couple of articles regarding sugar.
http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2010/04/20/sugar-dangers.aspx

http://www.healingdaily.com/detoxification-diet/sugar.htm

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/20/health/20brod.html?scp=3&sq=jane%20brody&st=cse (Interesting comment on advertising's effect on kids sugar consumption.)

"What I'm Reading" Wednesday

All right, it is Thursday, but at least I'm getting this done now, instead of completely ignoring it. I really do enjoy telling about the books I'm reading.

I pressed forward with Why Some Like It Hot by Gary Paul Nabhan, and I'm very glad I did. I found the remainder of the book far more interesting than the first part. I guess the search for an ancestral diet wasn't interesting enough, but when Mr. Nabhan started getting into the phenomenon of favism in the Mediterranean and the health advantages of the Cretan diet of greens and olive oil and the prevalence of diabetes in desert dwellers, I was hooked. I especially enjoyed the information on how people actually taste things differently depending on their genes. I think I have a "super-taster" among my children. Any little bit of pepper prompts a strong reaction, and I wondered why she just couldn't learn to like the spicy stuff. I think I'll try to be a little more understanding in the future. This book turned out to be an interesting read after all, and I hope I remember the lessons learned, especially the "keep reading until the end, even if you're not sure you like the book" lesson.

I also finished the book And Only To Deceive by Tasha Alexander. This book is a period mystery set in Victorian England dealing with antiquities fraud, and of course, murder. I liked the story very much, as well as the writing style. The author wrote in a clean, easy to read style that served the book well. She constructed an intriguing storyline, keeping it and the behavior of the heroine within the social mores of the era, especially the pressures of widowhood, while still allowing them to "push the envelope" of convention, as it were. I did question the intelligence of the heroine for a while, though. She seemed very willing to condemn/approve all behaviors according to her initial emotional reaction to them, instead of thinking things through more than once and then forming/changing her opinion. Only direct evidence allowed her to alter her "theory" of the crime. I would have liked to see her mentally explore different ideas and paths of reasoning before settling on the one that seemed most logical. It would have been interesting to see her make several different guesses, even if they were wrong, to show her intelligence and reasoning skills. As this book is the first of a series with this heroine, perhaps her character and reasoning skills will develop over the course of the novels. I will be very interested to see this happen. Although this book is new at our library, I am pleased to see that Ms. Alexander has 4 novels in the series published. As soon as I convince the library to purchase them, I will immerse myself again in the world of Emily Ashton. And I might not come up for air for quite a while.

Only 2 books to report on this week, but next week should be a bit fuller. I've checked out an interesting looking title, The Gift of Thanks: The Roots and Rituals of Gratitude by Margaret Visser, as well as a book on blood spatter by a crime reconstructionist (I think I'm hoping for a real-life Dexter), an autobiography of Melissa Anderson from the Little House on the Prairie television show, and a book examining the psychological implications of hatred. We'll see how far I get this week, since the kids are out of school. I may find myself way too busy to read, but I hope not. I hope I can encourage them to spend a bunch of their free time reading as well. That would be a summer to remember.

Monday Morning - Last week of school

It is almost upon us. The last day of school. I will shortly have 5 unskilled laborers on my hands. In addition to unskilled, they are unmotivated and unreliable. What's a mother, er, I mean a boss, to do? Get organized, that's what. I realize that most parents don't view their children with my jaundiced eye. Most parents look at their offspring and see sweet little darlings needing to be entertained and kept happy through the long, boring summer months. Me, I see a labor pool waiting to be utilized in the most efficient manner possible. So I started making lists and schedules weeks ago. I think I have things under control. I think I'm ready for the onslaught.

We start with the end of this week. The kids are done Thursday this year (weird, I don't remember it being Thursday before, but perhaps my memory isn't what it used to be...) and so there is this little end of the week hanging there. It's too late in the week to start any new schedule (All new schedules should begin on Mondays. Period. Diets, too, but that's another post.) I intend to use the 2 dangling days to clean out bedrooms and deep clean the house so that we can really start fresh on, you got it, Monday.

Monday morning will begin the summer schedule (see below); it seems brutal on it's face, what with the getting up at 5am and working all morning, but look at the afternoons. If they complete their work in the allotted time (very doable) they get the entire afternoon to devote to their own interests. That's a pretty good work schedule to my way of thinking. Then they have a very short stint of work, exactly the same as they did before dinner during the school year. This is followed by what? Another bunch of leisure time. Family time!! My husband has promised me that if he can truly get up and work all day (no afternoon siestas for him) then he will be done after dinner and we will spend quality family time every day. We tried this last summer as well, and it worked out most of the time. It's a schedule I really like. But my real point is, it's really quite easy for the kids. Even though I should get several hours of work out of them daily, they still have plenty of free time to do those summer need-to's, like march in parades and drink lemonades and count all the stars in the sky.

I guess the most important thing to me is that I have a schedule set down. If I deviate, that's fine. I can go with the flow, turn on a dime, do the unexpected. As long as we all know what we're supposed to be doing. As long as I have a framework to go back to when I need it. As long as I have a list.

What I'm reading...

It's Wednesday again, and I'm not prepared for any large book reviews, so today you'll just get a rundown of the reading list for the week.

1- Why Some Like It Hot by Gary Paul Nabhan. I was prepared for a fun and fascinating foray into why certain peoples/cultures eat the way they do and how those food choices have affected them, evolutionarily speaking. Sounds like a good time, right? Unfortunately, I'm having a very hard time really getting into this book. The writing is a little thick and wordy, with explanations sometimes confusing instead of clarifying. I don't know if I will finish it, which is saying a lot for me. There are few books I leave unfinished. It's not very thick, though, so perhaps I'll persevere and see if things improve as I go along.

2- What Einstein Told His Cook by Robert L. Wolke. This book is an explanation of kitchen science, and I did find it interesting, although I found that I already knew more than I thought about the chemical reactions in the kitchen. The author has a quirky sense of humor, which kept the book enjoyable, even during the more pedantic explanations. He also possesses a scientist's certainty that what he knows is so. For example, his dismissal of any assertions that sea salt, with it's myriad trace minerals, could be healthier than table salt, irritated me. Ditto for his exploration of microwaves affects of food. There are so many things about nutrition and the body's absorption of, reaction to, and utilization of different substances that modern science either does not understand or cannot explain. It irritates me to hear scientists state the unequivocal "truth," when I know that, even in the realm of science, "truth" is always expanding and even changing. If you are looking for an easy to understand explanation of kitchen science (and a base knowledge in this area will almost certainly help you become a better cook) I definitely recommend this book.

3- As referenced in my previous blog post, I did read Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins over the weekend. I liked it.

4- Most enjoyably, I've been re-reading a favorite talk by Hugh Nibley called "Zeal Without Knowledge." I very much enjoy Nibley. He has an ability to cut straight to the heart of a matter, to see and qualify human nature in a way that makes things clear to my mind. I recognize myself so easily in his writings. This essay begins by talking about how the human mind is capable on seeing or concentrating on only one thing at a time. Even when we are multitasking we are merely skipping from one thing to another at great speed. At any given moment we are choosing what we focus on, and by default we choose what to leave out. The brain sifts through the myriad impressions to select those that fit best into the structure of the world as we choose to see it. The blocked out signals are the unwanted ones, and the ones we favor are our deliberate choices. This, combined with the fact that unless sleeping we must always be thinking, leads to a conclusion:

"It is precisely this limitation which is the essence of our mortal existence. If every choice I make expresses a preference; if the world I build up is the world I really love and want, then with every choice I am judging myself, proclaiming all the day long to God, angels, and my fellowmen where my real values lie, where my treasure is, the things to which I give supreme importance. Hence, in this life every moment provides a perfect and foolproof test of you real character, making this life a time of testing and probation."

And this in the first 2 pages of a 10 page manuscript! I love the thought process that Nibley takes me on, and I love the introspection and self-awareness that I gain from his wisdom. This talk is contained in Nibley on the Timely and the Timeless, Classic Essays of Hugh W. Nibley. I highly recommend it.

In addition to these books, I have been on sort of a movie marathon. I found 6 movies at the library last week that I wanted to see, as well as the Netflix movie that came in the mail. So in the last week I made time to watch Vantage Point (liked it very much), Return With Honor (Message of the movie=excellent, execution=okay.), One God Man (What was the point? Oh, to show that he is a good man, and it's not always easy. Got it.), Alex and Emma (Meh.) Doubt (definitely a discussion starter. One thought - what is our obligation to prevent a crime/sin, when by it's prevention we ensure we cannot ever know what would have actually happened had we not intervened?), and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (Fun, fun, fun, fun, tragic ending.) Haven't had a chance to see the documentary Mormons and Masons yet.

Yes, it's been a busy week, and I have neglected very important things that I will today have to rush to get done. It was worth it. Sometimes you just have to have a reading orgy. Or a movie orgy. Or both.

Oops.

I broke one of my own rules. Now I'm going to regret it, and for several years, I'm afraid. Aubrey brought home The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins a month or two ago, and I read it. I actually enjoyed it very much, although I do agree with the general consensus that it is quite violent. So I put my name on the library waiting list and have now read the second book in the series, Catching Fire. Liked it equally well. The problem? I have a strict personal rule not to begin a series until it is either completely finished or the final installment is imminent. I ignored my rule because the book was right there, in my home, in my hands. Now look what it's gotten me. I'll be waiting for who-knows-how-long to find out (spoiler alert!!) how the uprisings go, whether Peeta survives, and what actually happened to District 13. Drat.

While we're on the subject of teen books, I've been reconsidering my decision not to let Aubrey read the Twilight series until she's 14. She's already told me she wants to watch the movies when she's 13, as they are rated PG-13, and (based on content) I don't think I can object, except for...I don't want her to watch the movies until she reads the books. I need to either keep her from watching the movies for another year (she's almost 13 now) or allow her to read the books when she turns 13. There's a certain amount of emotional maturity I was hoping for before she got into the topics that are brought up by these books, topics like the longevity of teenage love, letter of the law/spirit of the law, the importance of physical appearance, and keeping/losing one's identity in a relationship. But she has read The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, and who knows what other books I don't even know exist, books with content that is easily as questionable as the content of the Twilight series. By forbidding only the questionable books I'm aware of, I worry that I am being protective in a way that is hit and miss, which pretty much doesn't protect her at all but tells her I don't trust her. Should I have her okay with me every book she reads, or do I let her read anything she can get her hands on? Does it have to be all or nothing? Hard choice. Like her, I was a voracious reader from early on, and I remember some of the books I was reading by the time I was her age. I don't want her getting into hard-core romance novels as early as I did, but I'm not sure if I can stop it. Or if I should even try. I certainly didn't fall into the traps of the flesh that I fear for her, but it was probably as much from lack of opportunity as from strength of character.

I think I will probably allow her to read the Twilight series this summer, and I will re-read them simultaneously, so that we can discuss any subject matter I feel needs exploration. Hopefully the discussion, the connection, is something that can be extended to include anything she reads and has questions about/issues with. I'd like to keep her in the young adult section of the library for at least a couple more years.

(Just checked Amazon.com, and I guess the third and final book of the series, Mockingjay, is due out at the end of August. Not as bad as I had feared, but still annoying.)

"Am I there yet?"-- Quote of the day

"Maturity is the point where emotion merges with intellect." --- Sheim M'Shmuel

57th Annual Dance Festival (Gulp!)

Last night our family indulged in a yearly ritual wherein the children dress up and perform for the public, the mother dutifully photographs and praises said dancing, and the father engages in every avoidance technique possible. Hooray for Hurricane Elementary School Spring Dance Festival!! This year marked the 57th year of this beloved community event (my tongue is so firmly in my cheek I may never get it out!) Well, I should admit that there are many people who truly enjoy this event, where all the children at Hurricane Elementary learn a dance with their fellow grade members and then perform the dances in the high school gym. Many people have fond memories of themselves, excited and nervous, performing in years past; of their own children decked out in their Sunday best and doing the same; maybe even precious grandchildren, smiling shyly or clowning around grandly for the SRO audience. These memories and experiences draw them yearly to admire and support each new generation in this endeavor. It's truly a community tradition. Some people, however, see things differently. There are now 3 schools that serve the Hurricane Valley, and neither of the other schools hold a dance festival, so it's really not a community-wide event anymore. Some people didn't care to perform silly dances when they were young, and don't like feeling emotionally blackmailed into attending the event now that their children are in it. ("How can you not support your children by being thrilled to watch them perform inane dance numbers which require massive investment of time, but of necessity, little in the way of talent? Don't you love them?") My husband and I were sincerely hoping the dance festival would die a quiet death with the move to the new school building earlier this year. For a while, it seemed that we might be right. January, February and then even March went by without mention of the blessed event. Was it gone? Finished forever? Alas, the truth reared it's ugly head in April (after the traditional performance date had passed) when Katie told me how pleased her teacher was that she could already hula hoop, since that meant she was ready to perform at the dance festival in May. Hopes dashed, we slapped smiles on our faces and prepared for the event. The pre-appointed day arrived. Russell headed off to the temple to support a former home-teaching family whose son is preparing for a mission (God bless the Garretts!! Russ will be bringing by some delicious reward for your excellent timing.) I washed, dressed, shod, and primped my 5 children for an evening of performances. (Aubrey does not attend elementary school anymore, of course, but she coincidentally had a choir concert the same evening.) We dropped Aubrey off, delivered the children to their various starting points around the high school, and went inside to find a place to sit. Good thing we got there 30 minutes early, because it's another community tradition that all the seats are taken by 10 minutes before the performance, and after that you have to walk up and down the floor scanning the crowd for people you know and holding up your fingers looking for the correct number of gaps in which to squeeze yourself and your kin. Due to our early arrival, Sarah and I scored seats near the front/bottom of the bleachers, and then I got to listen to her complain about how thirsty she was for 20 minutes. I couldn't take her to get a drink, because we would lose our places if I left. Luckily, Grandma Cleopha came, we were able to let her seat-sit while we went to get a drink. Performance time!! I spent the next hour snapping photos, assuring Sarah we would get another drink when the concert was over, admiring the dancers, shifting so all parts of my bum were equally numb, telling Sarah that we were not going to get a drink now, taking video, applauding, pulling Sarah off of the floor ("You're in a dress, sweetie."), smiling at the kids I knew, telling Sarah she could dance when she was in kindergarten, cheering and applauding, taking photos of Sarah between dances to keep her occupied, adjusting my knees so they weren't in the armpits of the man in front of me, and generally having a super time. Then, just like that (hah!), it was over. Gathering the children is always a challenge because they each want to get one of the much-coveted helium balloons used for decoration. After only about 20 minutes, we were out the door. We went out to the tail end of Aubrey's concert, went through children gathering rigmarole again (although this time the coveted item wasn't a balloon, but a drink of water from the most far-flung fountain in the school.) At last, together again, we went home, I gave them all a snack ("No, I am not feeding you another entire dinner. This is a snack!!") and sent them to bed. I was so exhausted that I literally left all the dinner dishes on the counter and just went to bed. What an evening! I don't know why everyone doesn't just treasure these opportunities and experiences. I know I will someday miss these precious days of their childhoods, but I really think my life will be just as full and my memories just as dear if they do not include the 58th annual Hurricane Elementary School Spring Dance Festival. What do you suppose the chances of that are?

4 Pairs!!!

My new running shoes came in the mail yesterday. Yippee! (The UPS guy is truly one of my favorite people.) I'm going to go running in them this morning. They look mean to me, visually all sharp points and expanded metal grating. But cool.

This is the first pair of shoes that I have purchased with a knowledge of the type of shoe I need. Previously my running shoe purchases were made on the basis of price alone, which perhaps is not the best way to choose athletic equipment. I didn't have any trouble until I was training for the half-marathon this spring and my runs got over 10 miles long. Once I hit those longer lengths my IT bands started acting up. In talking to other runners I realized I need to really pay attention to the type of shoe I buy. No more searching solely based on price. I went to the Running Warehouse website (recommended by running guru Liz Dansie) and watched their video about selecting the right shoe. I learned that I need a shoe that gives moderate to maximum support, plus I need to buy one size larger than I have been wearing. Luckily I found a pair that gives the support I need in my humongous size (12!) on a fabulous sale. I got $100 shoes for $39.88. Can't beat that on eBay. It looks like being informed doesn't have to cost me more money, as I was afraid it would.

I'm hoping that what happened in terms of my running shoes and IT band issues was this: The pair I bought last year when I really started running was accidentally and coincidentally the right type of shoe for my gait - therefore no injury issues. Then, when I bought the next pair in January, they did not give the right support, causing me to aggravate my IT bands when I ran. Now that I am educated and aware (sort of), I have purchased a pair of shoes that again are appropriate for my gait. Thus, I'll be able to run fast and far without injury. That's my dearest hope, anyway. We'll find out over the next week or two. If I can run in these shoes without causing my IT bands to hurt, I will probably sign up for the Bryce Canyon Half-Marathon, but if I still have pain, I will probably have to stick to shorter races until I can figure out how to solve the injury problem.

The funny thing to me (not so much to my husband,) is that I have a hard time getting rid of the old shoes, figuring I can use them for the gym and bike riding, and after that to work in the garden or do concrete or whatever. So now I have 4 pairs of athletic shoes lined up in my closet. My shoe maven self rears it's ugly head. Cool.

"What I'm Reading" Wednesday

How's that for a silly blog title? I wonder if I'll get a book review up here every Wednesday. That's my intention, but we all know about paving that proverbial road.

I've been reading a fascinating book the last 2 weeks or so; Crazy Like Us: The Globalization of the American Psyche by Ethan Watters (Simon & Schuster, 2010.) I had seen this book in the library several times before I finally checked it out. I was a little reluctant to read it because I had the idea it might be sort of anti-American, you know? "Those crazy Americans, they are making the whole world crazy too." But it still seemed to call to me from the shelf, so I thought I'd give it a chance. I'm very glad I did. The book is a fascinating examination of mental illness and how societies diagnose it, view it, and treat it. In our science-driven, technologically advanced society here in the USA, our view of mental illness is that of a disease, physiological in origin and therefore medically treatable. However, studies show that there are many aspects of mental illness that are culturally dictated, both in manifestation (symptoms), duration, and outcome. The author looked at four specific illnesses and anecdotally contrasted either their prevalence, symptoms, treatments, or outcomes between the USA and another culture. First, he talked about anorexia in Hong Kong. Before the mid-1990's, there were virtually no reported cases of anorexia in Hong Kong. After noticing this, a particular psychiatrist looked a little deeper and discovered that the condition he believed to be anorexia actually did exist, but it's symptoms differed enough from the American version of anorexia that it did not fall within the diagnostic criteria, and therefore wasn't considered to be anorexia. The American Psychiatric Association publishes a book, The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, (or the DSM), which has essentially become the worldwide standard of mental illness identification and diagnosis. But Hong Kong's version of this disease didn't include some key symptoms, for example "intense fear of becoming obese, even when underweight" and disturbed self-image, like claiming to "feel fat when emaciated." The Hong Kong psychiatrist found the cultural expression of anorexia, although it included severe control of food intake resulting in physical emaciation, did not include issues with body perception, but rather more culturally recognized physical discomfort issues like being unable to swallow. Because the Chinese have a strong cultural tradition of mental distress manifesting itself in physical sensations, the symptoms of anorexia were expressed that way, but since they did not fit the American textbook symptoms, were not recognized as anorexia. This is the main point the book makes throughout it's four case studies: that symptoms of a mental illness may differ worldwide, but the globalization of the American culture makes it difficult to recognize. In the same way, there are culturally driven treatments and responses that are effective in their place that are being ignored or tossed aside because they, too, do not fit the American mold as appropriate. In the mid 1990's, the importation of American culture into Hong Kong apparently reached a tipping point of sorts, and the Americanized version of anorexia, with it's full complement of American symptoms, showed up in force. Anorexia became rampant, manifesting itself in numbers that led some mental health experts to believe that not only were those who might have had the Chinese version of the illness becoming ill, but also many young girls who likely would have found other ways to express their social or personal distress had not anorexia been in the media so much. It seems that popularization of illness in terms of general knowledge lead to a popularization of illness in terms of frequency as well. In other word, just seeing a condition in the news leads a significant number of people to "get" it.
Other chapters of the book included: a look at PTSD in Sri Lanka (post 2004 tsunami) and how cultural traditions of dealing with mental stress by keeping silent (based on Sri Lankan belief system) rather than talking about it (American treatment technique) can be as effective; a look at how schizophrenia sufferers actually have better outcomes in Zanzibar than in industrialized countries like the US; and how the recent massive rise in diagnosis of depression in Japan has actually been driven not by American views of the disease, but by the marketing machinations of big PHARMA.
The book was fascinating, and not really an indictment of American mental health system per se, but more a caution regarding the wholesale exportation of American culture throughout the world without observation of or regard to local and cultural practices that may actually be more effective. Mr. Watters concludes, "With little appreciation of these (cultural) differences, we continue our efforts to convince the rest of the world to think like us. Given the level of contentment and psychological health our cultural beliefs about the mind have brought us, perhaps it's time we rethink our generosity."

One purse, two purse, old purse, new purse...

They say you can't have it all. I say it's a good thing, because where would you keep it?
I got a new purse for my birthday. It took me a while to decide what I wanted, and I wavered between a single jogger and Wii Fit Plus for a while. One day at Target I saw this cute wallet and decided the time was ripe to change my "mom bag" for something a bit.....well, smaller. In the spirit of cleansing and purging and paring down, I chose a significantly smaller bag. I am hoping that the compact size will force me to be more selective and more organized my choices of purse contents. I'm really excited that I no longer have the need to carry an extra pull-up, or baby wipes, or even a spare pair of underwear for any of my children. And despite feeling just a little unprepared, I no longer carry a sewing kit, children's Tylenol, a month's worth of feminine supplies, or even a band aid. It's liberating. (Perhaps I ought to rethink the band aid thing, though. How much room could a band aid take up?) I have room for just what I need; wallet, keys, lip balm, cell phone, my reusable shopping bags (they are cute and very compact), a small notebook and a pen, calculator, comb, gum, floss, tissues, and coupons. See? I still have a lot in there. I just don't need to carry the kitchen sink. The only regret I have is that this purse is not large enough to stick a hardback book into. Oh, well. You can't have it all.

A letter to Ken Jennings

Dear Mr. Jennings,

I was thinking of you the other day. I know that must sound very strange. Well, maybe not so strange to you anymore, now that you're a celebrity and all, but it was definitely strange to me. Strange that I should be standing in the middle of the St.George, UT, Deseret Industries and have you, a total stranger, step unbidden into my thoughts. I'm quite certain the reverse never happens. I'm sure you have never been standing in the middle of, say, the Salvation Army store and had me pop into your head. So it felt a little weird to be thinking of you when you have no idea that I even exist. And thinking of you fondly, no less.

I was perusing the books (the best section of any retail establishment) and saw a book from my childhood. A book I loved dearly. A book I must have read at least 20 times. A book that brought me hours of entertainment and diversion. What was this tome worthy of adulation from my childhood self? Ferdinand the Bull? And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street? Perhaps The Secret Garden, or James and the Giant Peach. Nope. Great books all, but none of the above. It was The Book of Lists by David Wallechinsky, Irving Wallace, and Amy Wallace. Oh how I loved that book! Finding that book felt as if I were seeing an dear friend after too many years. And as I looked around to see who was near me, either trying to score my little treasure before I got to it or waiting to share my upwelling of fond emotion, you popped into my head. I knew that if you were there beside me, of all people, you would truly appreciate the joy that I felt right at that moment. You, of all people in the world, would appreciate true devotion I had to the contents of that book, and how the sight of the cover evoked fond memories of hours lost in reading, over and over again, all those wonderfully fascinating vignettes of the past. You would truly understand.

Now, I hope you don't misunderstand. I'm a happily married woman, and I don't mean happily married as a euphemism for married. I love my husband dearly and am not looking for any replacement or change, either physically or emotionally. He is my go-to guy for just about everything in my life. Just last month, in that self-same D.I., when I stumbled across the distinctive brown and tan couches we started our marriage with, the very couches(!), he was the one I called with a shout-out from the past. And last month, he was the one who came uninvited with our children to cheer me across the finish line of my first half marathon. He knew I would love to have them there, have him there, despite my sincere attempts to make his life easier by telling him to keep the 5 kids at home. He's my hero. But he just doesn't appreciate my tenderness for trivia, my love affair with the useless, fascinating minutiae of the world. And so, in that instant, when my mind was searching for just the right person to share the moment with, who came to mind? Ken Jennings.

There are, of course, reasons I thought of you specifically. Even though I have seen hundreds, if not thousands, of Jeopardy contestants, you are the only one I remembered at that emotional moment. My feelings are perhaps a bit more proprietary than your average fan. I too am a Mormon, albeit a smidge older than yourself, and I attended BYU. I wrote an essay for English class bemoaning my roommates' lack of concern for the trivia that I loved so dearly. Not too many people share my taste for the trivial. Watching you on TV was almost like making a new friend. You language, your mannerisms, your niceness - all of these things helped me identify strongly with you. There are probably millions in this country who admire you for your acumen with trivia. After all, you did what no one before had done. I know, I know; but for a then-recent change to the rules you might just be one in a field of many. Such goes life, right? But there you were, in that moment, and ready to take the challenge. You were the one. As I watched you on Jeopardy, I felt a strong kinship to you. You were exactly what I wanted to be. You achieved the dream. The dream that so many of us held but never felt we could achieve for whatever reasons. The dream of being recognized and rewarded (handsomely) for all those years of pursuing the footnote, of filing away and cataloging interesting information, of taking the extra mental step of remembering the fascinating details. You're my hero, Ken Jennings. And I've enjoyed you even more since then. I loved your book, Brainiac. I enjoy your blog. I privately attempt to answer your trivia questions weekly. (I do a pretty good job, for the most part, although I have to admit I have yet to know a Question 7 answer off the top of my head.) You have a very approachable personality and we have a great deal in common, so I feel as if I know you. Thus, I think, your appearance in my head that day in the book section of the local D.I.

I'm afraid there isn't a happy ending to the story. "No Merchandise Beyond This Point" and a potty training 3-year-old conspired against me. I left my cart outside the restroom for a moment, and it was taken by some officious D.I. employee for re-shelving. I searched, but could not find the precious book again. I try not to be critical or bitter. Someone just doing their job, right? It's probably for the best. There was that chapter on the sex stuff, you know. I do have those 5 children, so I would have had to keep the book in the bedroom. Either that or razor pages out like my friend's parents did (but I never could do that, not really.) So, I just let it go.

But I wanted to tell you thank you. Thanks for being you. Thanks for doing what you did, what you do, publicly and unashamedly. And most of all, thanks for being there in that moment. It meant a lot that there was the perfect someone to share those feelings with, even if it was only in my mind.

Yours sincerely,
Jennifer Tomany LeBaron

You can read more about Ken Jennings here. I highly recommend him. He's my friend (in my mind.)

I always jump ahead to the fun stuff.

So my goal for this month is to get my photo albums in order and up to date. Blech. I wasn't in the mood. I don't know why I wasn't thinking clearly enough to make that a winter-time, bad weather goal. But it's a goal nonetheless. So how do you deliberately not even attempt to achieve a goal you have set for yourself? You don't, unless you want to set a disturbing precedent. The solution? Trade months!! Therefore, I have relegated the photo album goal to the month of August (still not cold weather - there may be more trading down the line) and am now in the midst of the formerly August/now May goal....Purge 20%!!

I am actually very excited about this activity. The idea is to reduce the clutter and junk I have around the house and stored up in the corners, thereby easing space issues and simultaneously easing the mind and soul. It also means an opportunity to clean all the corners and get some things organized that have been neglected since we moved in. I don't know if I can really achieve the full 20% I aimed for, since I try to be a frugal purchaser in the first place, but I am trying to be ruthless. If it has no real emotional significance, and I haven't used it in a year - out!! I spent the day yesterday involved in this pursuit, and intend to take all of today and tomorrow to do the same. And I'm loving it. While I don't love to clean, I do love to organize, so I am able to find quite a bit of joy in the job. I'm also able to find quite a bit of stuff. Stuff to give away. My intended recipient is the DI, but I got to thinking about all this stuff. Some of it is really good stuff. Little girl's clothes in very good shape (I already gave away the not so good items.) Household organization items. A vacuum that perhaps only needs a friend with small appliance rescue issues. A gorgeous oak wall shelf. And more.

So I have decided that I should let my friends have a chance to look over this stack o' stuff before I cart it off. There may be ought that they could use. There may be naught that they could use. Whatever. I'm issuing an open invitation to all friends who read this blog to bring their kids to play at my house for a little while Monday-Tuesday-Wednesday of next week. Early afternoon is best, right after lunch (or right after Picnic on Tues.). After that I'll haul the rest to the D.I.
I'm fairly certain that thereafter, my house will be an oasis of calm in a troubled world, a refuge in the storm, a well-organized heaven on earth sending forth perfect little children who are intelligent, healthy, and happy. Right? Of course, right.

Lovely

While searching for a photo of a cute short 50's hairstyle for my little redheaded daughter, I ran across this photo of Audrey Hepburn. This photo seems to me to be the epitome of lovely. If I could choose a look that was romantically beautiful, this would be it.

It has to be named something...

I'm sitting here after the fundraiser tonight, and as my husband rubs my tired feet, we revisit an old dream. Once upon a time we talked about moving out of state. Russ had thought Arkansas might have some of the qualities he might look for in a place to live. In our looking around, we discovered the ideal place to be. We loved it. We shared our dream with others. And although it never actually came to be, I'd like to share it with you.

We think it would be great to live here. Russell could work here. We could recreate at the park seen here. We could possibly worship here. Neighboring communities are this and this. All in all, who wouldn't want to live in a place with everything going for it? (All right. I'm done laughing now. It must be time for bed.)

Should I?

Should I run the Bryce Canyon Half Marathon? (Pro - It's all downhill, and it's in a beautiful area, and it's a great goal to keep me motivated to keep in shape over the summer. Con - It costs $35, I'd have to either leave my family at home or take them camping (neither is hubby's favorite thing), and it might end up killing my IT bands again.)

Should I cut my hair short? (Pro - It would be different [and I like a change every now and again], it would be cooler in the heat, and short hair forces me to style my hair every morning. Con - Hubby loves long hair, costs money to cut and to maintain the cut, and short hair forces me to style my hair every morning.)

Should I let JR and Aubrey get a facebook page? (Pro - shows I trust them, makes them very happy, and it's a social networking site I understand and can monitor easily. Con - Facebook restricts children from use so I would have to omit info to set them up, it would give kids more media time each day, and it almost certainly would be a source of conflict.)

Should I spend money on cute office organization stuff? (Pro - Cute stuff makes me more likely to use it and therefore BE organized, the office would look so much better, and I want to. Con - Money could be better used elsewhere, current stuff is functional and budget friendly (our family motto), and hubby would not understand.

These are the questions that haunt my nights. Well, they haunt my occasional free moments, anyway.

Cynical Quote of the Day

"Some think they are preserving tradition when they are only perpetuating a habit."

--- Rabbi Shraga Silverstein

I Appreciate You...Have a door.

I worked this weekend and this morning a teacher appreciation door (2 actually) for the kids' school. And I wondered, "How did I get roped into this?" No. That's not really accurate. I chose to do this. A friend asked me and I agreed. And when I was asked which child's teacher I would like to do, I said, "Both." I'm not feeling sorry for myself that I am doing this. I guess the emotion I'm really feeling is...conflicted. Yes, I feel conflicted about decorating these doors.

Every spring the PTO or some other parent group organizes parents to decorate their kids' teacher's door with some sort of a thank you message. They are generally very colorful and kid-friendly, and sometimes involve the gift of candy. You know, like "We love Mrs. So&so to Pieces!" on a paper covered with packages of Reese's Pieces. Anyway, I have gone through 7 years of having kids in school without having to do one of these doors. I guess it was my turn. I kind of enjoy the creative process of coming up with ideas. I don't mind the work of putting the actual paper decorations together. And I certainly don't mind the idea of thanking teachers for their patience and hard work on behalf of my children. The conflict comes about thus:

A. I prefer a heartfelt word of thanks to a public display of gratitude. Moreover, I personally do not enjoy cutesy things. It's kind of hard to impress me with a construction of butcher paper, tape, and pseudo-clever sayings (e.g. We're not "lion" we love you!!), so I think I would not appreciate the decorated door, even if I felt the gratitude behind it was sincere. It is kind of hard to do for someone else what I myself would not enjoy. Not impossible, though, because I understand that different people enjoy different things, so perhaps this type of gesture would be appreciated by the recipient teacher. If I knew it would, then I would have no problem doing it. So, aside from being best friends with the teacher and understanding their taste, how would I guess whether he/she would like such a thing? Well, I could ask the teacher I'm married to. Thus arises my second reason for internal conflict:

B. My husband, the aforementioned teacher, hates these kind of obligatory, public gestures of thanks. He thinks they are neither genuine nor sincere, since people are "assigned" to do them and every teacher gets one, regardless of their job performance. He gets a paycheck for teaching the children and doing his best every day, and for him, that is enough thanks. We don't decorate the trash cans once a year to thank the garbage collectors, nor do we decorate the water meter for the meter readers, and so forth. We do celebrate Secretaries' Day. Pardon me, I mean Administrative Assistants Day, among other professional's days. Why should some professions get recognized and others not? Some might say we should decorate the trash cans and water meters and whatever other representative items for whatever other professions. It would just be so easy for that type of thing to get ridiculously out of hand. My husband would say we should do the opposite and let the paycheck be thanks enough for the job done. I tend to agree with him.

But here I am, decorating 2 doors for Teacher Appreciation Week at our elementary school. I will follow through on my promise to do so, and I will do a good job. And if asked to do it again, I will probably say yes, because I empathize with the fellow parent whose assignment it is to find decorators. But I probably won't really enjoy it. Kind of sad.