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Tea Fire Never Again

Today I was telling the kids that their Nana and Grandpa Duke want to prepare fresh cement for one of their upcoming visits so the kids can make hand prints for the new house.

Me: So your hand prints will be there in front of the house forever!

Gianna: Until it burns down again.

I quickly explain that it won’t ever happen again, and she wonders how is that possible and I explain that it would just be too hard on my parents. They’re working so hard to rebuild.

But, wow, I wonder what a psychologist would say about Gianna’s perspective – “until it burns down again.” Pessimist or realist or fortune teller?

This reminds me of something Gianna said a while back that Mum just completely could not believe and she told all her friends in England but I can’t remember… what was that?

Colin in Dance Camp

OK, here’s the most handsome photo of Colin ever…

Watching Coppelia Video

We brought home the dvd of Gianna performing her debut as a ballet dancer in last Spring’s Coppelia with Ballet Theatre San Luis Obispo. I’m feeling a MasterCard ad coming on…

Ballet shoes, tights, leotards and hair accessories: $175
Gas for the commute of one week’s worth of ballet rehearsals: $35
Tickets for family to the show: $240
Seeing my kids tapping their feet and humming to the music of Coppelia, laughing at the funny bits and completely in awe tonight: priceless

Some Revolution

I thought having a bitchy outgoing message would take care of Ms. Leave Four Messages Thinking I’m Avoiding Her.

But really it’s just making me want to have my phone very close with me at the ready to pick it up immediately since said outgoing message is so bitchy.

Ug.

I’ve been listening to Bridgette Jones’ Diary too much.

Outgoing Voice Message Revolution!

I got four messages from someone yesterday trying to get in touch with me about leaving her son while she went out on errands. She couldn’t walk up here after leaving one message. 4 on my cell phone (WHILE I WAS IN YOGA CLASS), one on home machine, called Stefan.

So I’ve had it with people thinking I need to be available next to my cell, waiting for people to call, picking up by the 2nd ring. And they need to call over and over to get my attention. (I’m in a flippin’ YOGA CLASS for Christ’s sake.) I think people think I avoid their calls on purpose.

So I left this outgoing message this morning:

“Hi, this is Caity McCardell. Please leave a message. And please know that I’m not answering because I’m with my children or I’m in a conversation or I’m DRIVING.” Something like that.

Stefan thinks I sound like a jerk. You can decide for yourself.

Orthorexia Nervosa

I think I have a condition!

I “think” because it’s not clear if it’s bad or not. If it’s bad, then I don’t have it. If it’s good, then I have it. Ha!

Completely stolen from Wikipedia:

“Orthorexia, or orthorexia nervosa is a term coined by Steven Bratman, a Colorado MD, to denote an eating disorder characterized by a focus on eating healthy foods. Orthorexia is referred to as a mental disorder by some sources, however it is not recognized as a mental disorder in any of the medical manuals, such as the ICD-10 or the DSM-IV, neither is it part of the proposed revision of this manual, the DSM-5.

“Steven Bratman claims that in rare cases, this focus may turn into a fixation so extreme that it can lead to severe malnutrition or even death.

“Bratman coined the term in 1997 from the Greek orthos, “correct or right”, and orexis for “appetite”. Literally “correct appetite”, the word is modeled on anorexia, “without appetite”, as used in definition of the condition anorexia nervosa. Bratman describes orthorexia as an unhealthy obsession with what the health-conscious individuals considers to be healthy eating.”

OK, I’ve blatantly copied and pasted enough.

Can you tell me if it’s good or bad to have this condition? Cause I’m thinking about adding it to my blog title:

“Vegan, Unschooling, Cohousing, VFF Running Mom, Woman With Orthorexia Nervosa”

Blatant Post for Mum's Pleasure

1. I’m listening to Bridget’s Jones’ Diary on my iPod while tidying up.

2. Colin had a fever, throwing up this morning and is now (5:20pm) playing outside on the swings. (Obviously, a reflection of his fabulously healthy McPherson genes.) Proof – photo from our bedroom window (the room I am so thoroughly cleaning while listening to book):

Saturday, 24 July
140 pounds: VG!
Alcoholic Units: nil (boring!)
Cigarettes: nil (ditto!)

Change of Perspective - Raising Vegan Kids

I picked up my latest issue of Ode Magazine today – for “Intelligent Optomists,” which really has me craving my weekly pedophile update, dog attacks, celebrity gossip and other real news from The Week or SFGate.

I skipped to a piece about the brain, about how people with mental disorders of any spectrum suffer from societal judgment – harsh prejudice harkening back to racial, gender and sexual inequity. The piece reminded me that runaway slaves were considered mentally incompetent (why else would they want to run?), low scorers on intelligence tests in the 30’s were considered “morons” or “idiots,” and homosexuality was considered a mental disorder by the American Psychiatric Association until as recently as the 1970s.

So much has changed, we like to say. Women have the right to vote. Blacks and whites live in relative harmony (relative to the 50s). Lesbians and gay men can marry now, right? Oh.

Because I think about animals, the Ode Magazine piece reminded me that animal rights activists like to say, “some day we’ll look back on factory farming in the same way that we look back on other injustices of our time. And we’ll thank God it’s over.”

And because I’m a parent of vegan kids, the Ode Magazine piece sparked a complete shift in my thinking about raising vegan children.

A little background: Some of our friends think being a vegan family is like being religious. Eating a plant-based diet is equitable to dragging our kids to church on Sundays, praying at the table, talking about how God is our lord and king. You know, being vegan is pushing an agenda on our kids.

They think that when our kids get older they’ll jump at the chance to eat at McDonald’s. That first hamburger is going to taste so good, they say. They’re craving real food.

And as a parent of vegan children, I try to laugh about that. Who cares, I counter confidently. They might also join a biker gang. How can I possibly worry about trying to control that?

I’ll admit, though, that there’s a piece of my heart that aches about the possibility of Gianna and Colin racing to eat meat and dairy when they head out my door. My friends are right – being a vegan family *is* like having a religion, and I don’t want them to leave the Vegan Church.

A friend of mine grew up with vegan parents. He rolls his eyes and cringes talking about it, teasing them. He sounds ashamed of them. (I want to tell him that going back to veganism might help reverse the MS devastating his body, but that’s another story.)

So where’s the Ah Ha Moment I got from the Ode Magazine piece? It’s this:

I believe that when my children grow up they will be wise and thoughtful. I want to believe that they won’t tease me and Stefan about our food choices. They’ll say we were part of a movement, a proud one, that stood for something. WE STAND FOR SOMETHING.

Instead of teasing us or being embarrassed and calling us hippies with crazy ideas, they’ll actually be more sharp than that.

When Gianna and Colin talk about the early 21st century, they’ll ask, “why didn’t you do anything?” All those animals were being tortured and held in servitude; the Earth was being dumped on by massive holes full of animal poop; rain forests cut down to make room for cattle; global warming sped up; the oceans depleted; lists of diseases caused by eating animals…

and all we did was go vegan.

“Why weren’t you protesting in the streets, Mom?” Gianna might ask.

Maybe I’ll sheepishly reply, “we were so busy raising animal rights activists!”

I don’t have to worry about them becoming omnivores. What I look forward to now… my kids shaming me for not doing more.

Sexy Vegan Kid

Bibi, my 15-year-old niece said that Colin will grow up to be a skateboarding, vegan teen with long brown hair, and all the girls will swoon, thinking he’s the sexiest thing around. Which makes my niece very cool because she knows that being vegan is, really, sexy.

(BTW, I’m trusting that when my son is a teenager, kissing a meateater will be equated with kissing a smoker.)