Eating your sunscreen

I get these sort of articles every so often and I thought this one was especially interesting:)

Chemist Forces Children to Eat Sunscreen By Shane Ellison

My wife and I are unconventional parents. We didn't vaccinate our children. They don't go to public school. We don't let them drink their weight in soda. And we make them eat their sunscreen. Before you report me to Child Protective Services, let me assure you that I'm not talking about the conventional, synthetic sun block that is loaded with poisons. I m talking about edible sun block in the form of carotenoids. Carotenoids are members of a family of nutrients that protect plants and animals from excess sunshine. Just like melanin, they are colorful molecules that reflect UV rays. About 700 different types of carotenoids have been identified. Each of the pigments functions as Mother Nature's sunblock. When humans ingest carotenoids, they are deposited into the skin to prevent sunburn and (ultimately) oxidative stress, which can lead to cancer. Leading sources of carotenoids are eggs, spirulina, chlorella, dark-green leafy vegetables (kale, collards, and spinach), and yellow-orange fruits and vegetables (apricots, cantaloupe, carrots, sweet potatoes, yams, and squash). The recommended daily intake of carotenoids is 100 to 200 grams per day of these foods. The most potent carotenoid is a red pigment found in algae, salmon, trout, shrimp, and lobsters. It is known as astaxanthin. The algae are normally green. But when subjected to sunshine, they produce the red pigment naturally. Once ingested, astaxanthin is 1,000 times more effective at protecting skin from UV damage than other carotenoids. Edible sunblock is your first line of defense against sunburn, cancer, and prematurely aging skin. So make sure you pack plenty of carotenoids in your kids' lunchboxes this summer.

Copyright © 2008 The Peoples Chemist.com

Shane Ellison's entire career has been dedicated to the study of molecules; how they give life and how they take from it. He was a two-time recipient of the prestigious Howard Hughes Medical Institute Research Grant for his research in biochemistry and physiology. He is a bestselling author, holds a master's degree in organic chemistry and has first-hand experience in drug design.

All for a bagel

I cried over a bagel yesterday. Really, I did.

I had just finished up an acupuncture appt. and stopped at Einstein Bagels yesterday. Every fall they have pumpkin bagels and if that's not enough, they also sell pumpkin cream cheese. Yes....pumpkin cream cheese....I know. It is definitely one of my seasonal favorites. So after anticipating this experience all day, I finally got there at 4:15. But guess what time they close? 4:00!!!! Who the heck closes at 4:00???? In my moment of desperation, I did what any child would have done, I broke out the puppy dog eyes. One of the employees who took pity was actually kind enough to open the door and gently let me know they were in fact closed. I pleaded my case....I just needed ONE pumpkin bagel....and pumpkin cream cheese. He explained how they throw everything out and it was too late.....noticing that I was on the edge he mentioned he would see what he could do and closed the door. So I waited. Then the nasty manager came out and firmly said they were closed and he legally could not do anything for me. What's up with this legally crap? I am a desperate woman just looking for a pumpkin bagel and he pulls this legally thing on me. What is wrong with humanity? I again pleaded my case and he had not one sensitive or compassionate bone in his body.

So I got in my car....and cried. I always made fun of those silly pregnant women who claim to be extra emotional during commercials etc. Well....it caught up with me. I was legitimately distraught all over a bagel. I must be pregnant.

Mother Bear

So it finally happened. We've all had our mother bear instinct take over once in a while but once in a blue moon do we really feel the anger brought about when someone wrongs your child. Yesterday was the day and it took my 4 year old to call me out on my unforgiving moment. It was an afternoon like all the others. Chaos crowding our street with children running barefoot and riding bikes with a nonchalant glance for cars when they remembered. Well...it just so happened that I was the only parent out as all the others had left for back to school night leaving their 10 and 11 year-olds to watch the younger siblings...complete with lists of instructions for the hour long duration they would not be present.

The activity moved further up the culdesac as a I followed. One of the more energetic kids on our street whom exudes more confidence than any normal first grader ever displays was riding his bike faster than his ability to maneuver. That's when it happened 3 feet in front of me. In his lack of 6 year old logic in neglecting to anticipate Amy's move 6 inches to the right he mowed her over sending her skidding across the asphalt with a final smack to her right temple.

I immediately yelled "oh my gosh!" (not sure why "what the hell!" didn't come out but it seems my Mormon mouth is well established) and swooped her up running her home while she let out the piercing scream after the 4 second gasping breath....the kind that babies make in sacrament before their mothers can usher them out to the foyer...only this was worse.

At that point I feared two things. First was whether or not Amy split her head open and the second was if I could really keep myself from berating the 6 year old who clearly lacked every kind of judgement a teenage driver learns in drivers ed. Deep down I knew it really wouldn't help and I would forever been known and the evil mother on the street with red eyes and a foaming mouth. So I took Amy upstairs with both of us in tears by now...her from the pain and me from the emotions bubbling up from the mother bear inside me.

After we brought the crying down to a mere sob and sniffle here and there in the bath Jamison came upstairs telling me everyone was at the door to see if Amy was ok. Inside I was saying..."NO! of course she's not ok...some idiot kid just sent her flying across the asphalt giving her road rash up the side of her body and face," but of course I again amazed myself and firmly said it was time for everyone to go home and for Jamison to get in the bath. Sensing my anger he sat on the stairs with his back to me while I was still in the bathroom helping Amy. I asked if he was ok and he immediately starting sobbing...of course me rolling my eyes thinking, "why are you crying, you're not the one who just got rammed into the asphalt?" He walked over head down, shoulders slumped with his alligator tears already falling and said, "Mommy, I don't want you to be upset with my friend."

So now I feel mother bear anger, fear, AND guilt from my 4 year-old because I can't demonstrate forgiveness on top of restraint. Not to mention Greg had left right before this because he had a "rough" day and just needed to leave. Can't I just catch a break here?

So we all calmed down after I explained how Mommy was upset because so and so wasn't being careful and how I was worried Amy could have been seriously hurt but everything was going to be ok. Thank goodness that was all he needed to hear because I wasn't sure at the point whether I could dig deeper for anymore self control.

So the phone calls came in from the other kids parents which Greg answered at my request and gave the expected..."oh she's ok....it just happens....they're just kids." I of course still fuming.

This morning I was mostly calmed down and by the afternoon all was well. The cute kid came over to give Amy a card that said "I love you" with a 1st grader rendition of them holding hands. Amy loved it and I felt resolved.

I hope I can demonstrate the same restraint the next time mother bear rages within. So pin a ribbon on me:)

Non-Food Rewards

Non-Food Rewards

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Something to practice in your spare time

With a couple days of practice...or a couple of life times, you too can be part of Swan Lake. Just be sure to hang in there until the clapping. I think I could do the frog part....minus the upper body strength.

Queen of Freeze

Tonight while I was in the process of boycotting my role as the preparer of dinner, Greg pulled up a chair in front of the freezer accepting the fact that unless he wanted stale cheerios, the dinner mantle was upon his shoulders. I rarely go to the freezer for meals because usually it is too late for the selected item to be defrosted. Greg knew he would hit some jackpot....he just needed to invest some frosty finger time in the search (hence the chair.)

At any rate, dinner was prepared we all ate and our crankiness dissipated. Food is an easy solution to alleviating moodiness in our house.

It wasn't until later we laughed about the fact that the only frozen food items that didn't come in a Trader Joe's box or a plastic wrapped ditty from Costco was originally frozen by my mother-in-law. Lynn Davis is truly the "Queen of Freeze." She is pretty much the most amazingly resourceful woman I know and tonight she received an award in the area of frozen food. Among the items in my freezer which were from her kitchen was: chocolate cake (which I would usually throw out because I am too lazy to package it up,) shredded beef (fairly old to have been consumed tonight but so far there have not been any serious repercussions,) minestrone soup, etc.

The fact of the matter is I don't understand the language of freezer speak. If we didn't eat all of one particular meal, it goes in the fridge. If it hasn't been consumed by day three or if we find it in the fridge and don't remember the last time we actually ate it, the trash receives a new friend. Often times the tupperware containing the lively specimen is thrown out with it because neither Greg or I have the nose to deal with the aroma that would ensue. Lynn Davis on the other hand goes straight to the freezer with it in the proper freezer bag, sharpied with date and name. I need to learn freezer speak!

All in all, thanks to Queen of Freeze ala Lynn Davis, we were spared stale cheerios and had a delicious dinner. Lynn has way more to offer than Martha Stewart.

Superhero status

Yesterday while I was making dinner, a tearful Jamison came running down the stairs with an urgent message.

"Mom, my superhero fell in the toilet and is covered in poo." sniff sniff....watery eyes.

Apparently, this superhero was not so super enough that he could rescue himself from his current dirty dilemma so I sarcastically exclaimed, "Well, reach in a get him out and then wash your hands."

"I can't, I'll get poo on me!!" sniff sniff sniff.

At this point, I knew I was going to have to dive in as the size of this particular superhero would clog the toilet if it were flushed...not to mention Jamison would take a week to recover if his superhero joined the depths of the San Diego sewer.

Thanks to a "super" spoon with a long handle, the incredible hulk was rescued and bathed in bleach.

Who's the superhero now?