There.

Now I can go to bed.

Vaccine Ingredients

Thanks to Staci for bringing this list to my attention. This is a list of "filler" ingredients in common vaccines. Warning: this list is not for the weak-stomached. I actually felt a little nauseous as I read it.

Vaccine Ingredients List

If you weren't convinced by the Parent's Informed Choice article, this ought to do it.

It's a Tea With Cardamom Sort of Day

I learned to like tea in India. Before that, I really didn't care for any caffeinated beverages, with the possible exception of an extremely occasional Sprite or 7-Up. My dad drank coffee, not tea, and my mom drank, well, um, she drank water. Lots of water.

In India, tea is such an integral part of the culture, it would almost have been impossible to avoid developing a taste for it. There is "tea time" twice a day at the school where we worked, as well as in every home that I visited there. If you were to visit someone, the first thing they would do would be to offer you some "chai", even if they were so poor that it meant using up the last of their milk to do so.

Here is where we in North America have made an error. (My Indian readers, please correct me if I'm wrong.) To us, "chai" has come to mean "tea with milk and sugar and a whole variety of spices." In reality, "chai" is the word for "tea." I was going to say "Hindi word for tea," but it's actually the word for tea in every Indian language that I know of, and I believe it is also the word for tea in some African languages. Which language it originated from, I have no idea. Especially since chai with lots of milk and sugar was a drinking custom introduced by the British during the colonial days, since that is how they like their tea.

"Tea with spices" is known as "masala (spiced) chai," and the type of spices used range in variety and quantity, depending on what area--and what household--you are in.

Most of the time while I was there, we simply had chai, which is loose tea in a base of about half milk and half water and a fair amount of sugar, all heated until just barely boiling, then strained into your mug for a cup of creamy goodness. It is a safe way to drink milk of questionable origin, water of questionable origin, and a social custom that bonds families, friends, and strangers. (I remember my shock the first time I saw my friend Chingluan pouring tea back and forth between two mugs to cool it off for her daughter--who was two at the time!)

I'm not sure the reason why, but it was somewhere around 2000 that "chai" became extremely popular in North America. Thus Jason and I began our search for "the perfect chai," the one that would bring back all the flavour and memories we had come to love while in India--our hearts' other home country.

It was a long and disappointing search. We found a few that were close, but still seemed like someone had just gone a little crazy with throwing in anything from the spice shelf. I couldn't figure out why. Finally, when George and Ruth Peters visited us in 2005, I asked Ruth.

"How do you make chai? And what is the spice that you put in it?" She answered that while she usually just made basic chai, occasionally, she would add a sprinkle of cardamom to it (thus elevating it to "masala chai.") This was the answer we had been looking for!

I just about choked when I saw the price of the stuff. I don't know how it compares overseas, but here, cardamom is twice as expensive as every other spice (with the exception of saffron, which is just expensive everywhere.) Fortunately, I really only had one use for it. Each cup required only the tiniest sprinkle for flavour, so in six years, I think I might still be on my first jar. Partly because I soon discovered that I like the tea without cardamom as much as with it, and it became a "luxury" that I rarely partake in--and Jason feels the same. Tea drinkers that we are, our day is usually masala-less--at least as far as tea is concerned!

I'm not sure what possessed me this morning. Most days, I make a "cheater chai" that does not require the mess of loose tea and straining. It is not as strong as the real stuff, but nearly as good. I steep my tea bag (Lipton Red Rose Orange Pekoe is the best we've found) extra-long, throw it out, add a good-sized glob of honey from a teaspoon, then fill the mug up with cream until the colour is pale and delicious-looking. Then I take that first, satisfying sip.

This morning, though, I looked at the concoction in my mug and said "it's a cardamom sort of day."

Some days, the routine of dressing and feeding a family, getting Jude to school on time, making dinner ahead of time, teaching piano lessons all evening, doing dishes, working on my e-Bay business, being wife, mother, nursemaid, teacher, babysitter, friend, daughter, and all my many other hats can just seem overwhelming--like there is no way to live up to it all. Those are the days when my loving husband lets me have a little time to myself to create something beautiful, or go on a walk, or when a well-timed hug from my babies can turn a really stressful day around.

The cardamom was just the perfect touch on what would otherwise have been an ordinary, everyday-sort of cup of tea. Once in a while, all we need is a little masala to put things in perspective.

Oh, The Things They Say and Do!

Yesterday, Noah was playing with the toy bow and arrow set when something went awry. In perfect Mater-esque fashion, the next word I heard him say was "Shee-uute!" He's said it a few times since then, as well. I laugh out loud every time. (No surprise, since Cars is currently his favourite movie, and has held that position for quite some time now.)

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I just finished changing Jabin's dirty bum. In preparation for the potty-training I intend to begin next week, I have been working on getting him to pull up his own pants, so after putting a clean diaper on him I set him and his pants on the floor, then sat down next to him. He did pretty good--he still struggles with getting them up over his little fat bum. After I encouraged him and showed him how, he finally remembered to reach around and successfully completed his mission. Of course, his outfit wasn't going to be complete until we put on his Spider-man slippers (with the eyes that light up when he walks).

When our task was finally accomplished, he ran around behind me and stuck out his chest against my back, arms hanging at his sides. "Uuuuh!" he grunted.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, laughing and reaching my arm behind me to give him a squeeze.

"Hug!" he said, then ran off.

Cute, but the hug needs some work.

For the Kids Who Don't Want to Grow Up

There is, of course, only one child who never grows up. But for the rest of us, we can pretend we're him for 113 minutes while we watch P. J. Hogan's Peter Pan.

Yes, I know it's several years old, but I just watched it tonight for the first time. I have to say, it is the most amazing treatment of this story I have ever seen. And the casting was perfect. And the effects were stunning. And the sets were mind-blowing. And the music was transcending.

After watching the movie, then all the many special features, I still didn't want it to end. Were it not, in fact, 1:00 in the morning already, I would have started watching it again immediately.

I was only previewing it before letting the kids watch it, to make sure the portrayal of Captain Hook by Jason Isaacs wouldn't scare the daylights out of them. Now I know that I'll want to drop what I'm doing to watch it with them every time they decide to pick it! (I'm guessing we're going to see a renewal of last year's "pirate and Pan mania" in our house.)

All I can say is, it'll make you believe in magic.

Just Breathe

Aaaah. It's Friday. The only living creatures in this house besides me at the moment are my two younger sons, who are happily playing with a train set in the Family Room. Oh, and the mouse that's taken up residence in the basement. (We are working on evicting the squatter.)

It's nice to be able to take a moment to breathe.

Last night was AWANA club registration. AWANA is a kids club which we are putting both Jude and Noah into this year. This is the first year we have been involved, and besides the two boys, I am also going to be a leader in the Cubbies club, which is the age group Noah will be in. Jabin will likely have to tag along every week as well, because Jason plans to play basketball every Thursday. Unfortunately, the event does not finish until after the kids' bedtime, meaning Thursdays--and Fridays--could be a long day for everyone.

It took Jude quite a while to wind down last night and fall asleep, and this morning proved it--for the first time, he started with the lament, "I don't wanna go to kindergarten!" I know it was just his exhaustion speaking, because he has been super-excited to go every other day, and was actually quite disappointed when the weekend came and he had to stay home. This morning, however, everything was a major drama. I can't count how many times I said, "Settle down. Take a deep breath." Jude is a child that feels deeply, and the melodrama that follows him through the day is exhausting in itself. In my dealings with him, I also need to remember to breathe, sometimes.

Yesterday, I started the "seasonal switch" from summer to winter gear, doing some "seasonal cleaning" to go along with it. Summer never lasts long enough here. While there's a part of me that is always a little excited about the fall fashions and getting to wear shoes again, it's a small part. The weather doesn't stay warm enough here for very long in the fall, either, meaning that those oh-so-trendy sweater-jackets and knee-length-skirts over tall boots are really only things you can wear comfortably for about three weeks. After that, you have to be so bundled up every time you go out that it wouldn't really matter if you were wearing your flannel pajamas underneath your coat, because no one is going to see them anyway!

Thankfully, I actually remembered to get my winter coats dry-cleaned during the summer this year, so I am not going to be suffering through a week of super-cold weather when the time comes because I was forgetful! (Unlike last year. Ahem.)

We finally got a call yesterday that Noah has been approved for funding to have an aide work with him through what's called Early Intervention. This is the result of a speech assessment I had done on him early in the summer. For three-and-a-half, he should be able to verbally communicate better than he does. His sound reproduction is very age-appropriate--he can parrot you perfectly--but his comprehension and recall are poor. He is excited to tell you things, but can't remember the words he needs to use, so in a long string of babbling you might understand the final word. "Dsi a sidw tgie dihs truck!" This can be pretty frustrating.

Jason is leaving on Sunday for Toronto. He will be there for a week for a course he has to take for work. This could be interesting for me. I have a tendency to not go to bed on time when I know that I'll be the only one in there. Also, I'm going to have to pull out at least three more blankets, I'm sure of it.

So. Two full weeks of the new schedule, and we're still kicking and ticking. I won't deny that I prefer a lifestyle that is a little less manic. However, this is the way things have to be for this year, at least for a while. At least it will make the winter pass quickly.

As long as we remember to keep breathing.

Question

What do you call it when you get three babies in the same house sleeping at the exact same time?

Answer:

A miracle.

Ma Vida Loca

For those who might have been wondering, No, I haven't been abducted by aliens.

Nor was I so overcome with grief at the dogs' absence that I couldn't post.

Let's just say, despite any previous notions I may have had, now I know what it means to be Busy!

Jude officially started Kindergarten last Monday, which also happened to be my first day of teaching piano lessons this year. This was the Monday immediately following the Saturday (with a day of rest between, of course) where I was one of two organizers for the church's Ladies Scrapbooking Day, for which I was responsible for organizing the babysitters and kids' activities for the day. (Miraculously, due to an extremely small turnout, I actually managed to complete three pages of my own--three more layouts than I had expected to complete!)

Fortunately, the Scrapbooking Saturday is only once a month. However, this is what my weekly schedule now looks like:

Monday to Friday: Up by 7:00 a.m. so I can take Jude to school by 8:45 a.m. This involves making sure the whole family is dressed and fed and into the van by 8:30.

Tuesdays to Thursdays: Start babysitting one, and sometimes two, 1-year-old girls by 8:30 a.m. this means that I also have to take them with me in the van to take Jude to school. When I have both girls, I have FIVE! (Count 'em: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5!) car seats and booster seats combined in the van. That means every chair but the driver's seat, since the bench in the back may fit three bums, but only two car seats. Also, last week, both girls were teething. WHEEE! They go home between four and five o'clock most days.

Monday to Wednesday: Start teaching piano at 5:00 p.m. (5:30 on Wednesdays). Done by 8:00 (8:30 on Mondays). This means that I have to have supper already cooked, and have eaten myself, by the time my husband walks in the door at five, so I can give him a quick run-down of the household status and disappear into my office for three hours without wanting to chew my desk in half by the time I'm done.

Thursdays: Take kids to Awana Club by 6:15 p.m. Come home at 8:00 and put kids to bed--past their bedtimes by then. By the time I come home, Jason has left for basketball. Once kids are in bed, collapse onto sofa and put my feet up. If I'm feeling especially energetic, I might make myself a cup of hot chocolate to sip while I unwind.

Fridays: This evening is set aside to either go on a date with my honey, or babysit Gregory's kids while they go on a date, which is still pretty easy. An "easy" day.

Saturdays: Usually, renovations. Probably get together with friends in the evening.

Sunday: Church in the morning most often, hang with friends or relax at home in the afternoon. Get ready for the new week in the evening.

When do I clean my house? When do I do my office work? When do I get some "down time" to scrapbook or read? When do I blog?!

I don't know. I'm still figuring that stuff out. Pray for me!

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We have been honoured to have as our guests since Friday George and Ruth Peters, our dear friends from India. They are the ones who started the Bible College that Jason and I both volunteered at about ten+ years ago. The last time we saw them was when they and their daughters visited us at our house in Sylvan Lake. We were so. stoked. when we found out that they had time to come and stay with us for a few days on this trip to North America, short as it is. The kids have been having a lot of fun with them, and they totally love our kids. Also, it's been fun to just have them around--we've all been having a little R&R while they are here, except of course for the usual day-to-day stuff like doing dishes and caring for children.

PLUS! Tonight Ruth made authentic Chicken Curry with Spiced Rice, and Sautéed Green Beans on the side. MMMmmm--mm! The curry was a bit zippy for the kids but they loved it anyway, especially Jude--Chicken Curry has been one of his favourite dishes since he was a baby. Also, our house now smells divine!

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My fabulous brother Logan is having a birthday tomorrow. And he's in England. Those two random facts are actually my way of introducing you to his blog, Just swingin' a cat here, which he started to document the travels he began on September 3rd. He is a hilarious writer, although I have a feeling that paying an extravagant amount of poundage per hour for internet time may put a damper on his usual talent. Feel free to pop on over there and give him some birthday bumps, however. And bring a friend, 'cause you're gonna need help--the man is six feet tall!

Love ya, Bro!

Happy Sunday Monday, friends!

You can only be young once. But you can always be immature.*

They were like ungrateful, self-centered teenagers.

They didn't see that their restricted freedom was a direct result of its abuse. They thought only of themselves, not the destruction--and cost associated with it--that went along with every pastime they thought to amuse themselves with.

They didn't understand that it was their frequent late-night (and mid-day) excursions that resulted in the chains that held them down. They only applied themselves more diligently to maximizing the time when security was lax for their escape bids.

Even at the end, as we drove away waving at them, they hadn't figured out that it would be the last time--that instead of posting their bail again, after they had tunneled under the fence and escaped for the second day in a row, we had chosen the less-expensive option of leaving them imprisoned at the S.P.C.A., rather than continuing to incur the costs and the stress of being their caretakers--a role they so obviously did not wish us to have.

Everyone has to learn that actions have consequences sometime.

Brutus and Suri, may you find some wide open spaces to exercise your neuroses on in your next homes.

I guess this is goodbye. Here's looking at you, kid.

*Dave Barry

Mommy's First Law

"That, no matter how quiet the kids may be at the moment, or how inactive the telephone and doorbell have been all morning, the surest way to generate an attention-demanding noise from any or all of these is to make physical contact between your butt-cheeks and the toilet seat."

What I Learned Today...

• Adding 1/2 cup white vinegar to your washing machine's rinse cycle is a natural fabric softener, helping you avoid the health hazards of dryer sheets
• There are more reasons to avoid buying from China all the time. Makes me so glad that we get our vitamins from superfoods such as blueberries and cod liver oil, and that I try to get local, organic produce and meat as much as possible--but makes me think twice about the fish from China in my freezer. Also, I think I have to return one of Noah's birthday presents.
• That when you run your dryer at least once a day with a super-sized load, and your ducting travels over twenty feet to the outside of the house, it gets plugged. Then your dryer won't work anymore. Apparently, you are supposed to clean your ducting once every year or three. Makes it tricky when you can't reach more than 20% of it. (Someone was thinking!)
  
• That our local fire hall gives free tours. I found this out when the fire commissioner came (at my request) to inspect our unused fireplace this afternoon. With three boys, you can bet I'm going to take advantage of the tour!
• That having two twelve-month-old baby girls is more exhausting than I would have thought imaginable. I am so. glad. I got to send them home at 5. And I volunteered to babysit them all winter? Am I crazy?!
  
• That Jabin really, really likes ice cream cones.
• That Jude is a super-duper helper. I've known this for a while, but it's become quite obvious the last couple of days with the babies here. I'm going to miss him in the mornings when he starts kindergarten on Friday. (For more reasons than just that, but I'll miss his helping, too!)
  
• Also, the contrast with the babies has shown me how grown-up Jabin really is. Just being able to talk helps. And walk. And feed himself. Okay, he's just really grown-up. Definitely not a baby anymore.
• That it's pretty easy to be asleep by 10:30 or 11:00 when you're getting up at 7 and running off your feet all day. Think I'll go hit the hay.

How was your Wednesday, friends?

A Busy Day In The Health Headlines

Mercury Contamination is Destroying Public Health and Spawning an Autism Epidemic (Mercola.com): Childhood vaccines clearly seem to be one major culprit influencing the autism epidemic. In fact, 50 years ago when the vaccine schedule for infants contained just four vaccines, autism was a rarity.

Today, the Center’s for Disease Control and Prevention’s (CDC) Childhood Vaccination Schedule includes 11 vaccines, some of which are actually triple whammies (such as Measles, Mumps, and Rubella). Infants receive multiple doses of these powerful agents all before they turn 1 year old, and it’s just too much for some children to take.

On top of that, at least one of the vaccines recommended to children, the flu shot, still contains thimerosal!

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The Raw Milk Debate Reaches the New York Times and the Washington Post (Mercola.com): It’s both grimly sad and a bit humorous, if you’re on the satirical side, that “health protection agencies” are so quick to want to ban and limit foods that carry fairly minor health risks -- but lots of health benefits -- while leaving toxic, synthetic food additives and all sorts of junk foods by, claiming those chemical substances carry no health risk…

You couldn’t possibly convince me that eating fast food every day carries less of a health risk than drinking raw milk. I think they’re simply counting on your ignorance. ...

Pasteurizing milk destroys enzymes, diminishes vitamins, denatures fragile milk proteins, destroys vitamin B12 and vitamin B6, kills beneficial bacteria, and promotes pathogens.

From my perspective, there’s simply no rational justification to ever drink pasteurized milk, even organic pasteurized milk.

Once you heat milk, you distort the configuration -- the shape -- of the fragile milk protein (see illustration on left), turning it from something good into something bad that will actually cause allergies and other autoimmune dysfunction. So, even if you start with organic milk from grass-fed cows, once you heat it the milk is ruined and should not be consumed.

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Honey as Medicine is Making a Comeback (Mercola.com): Going back to basics, using natural therapies like bee products including honey, is a step in the right direction. Especially considering the fact that traditional antibiotics are increasingly ineffective against certain microbes. According to the Centers for Disease Control, “nearly all significant bacterial infections in the world are becoming resistant to the most commonly prescribed antibiotic treatments.”

Clearly we need alternatives that do not add to the problem. One thing to remember here though, is that not all honey is appropriate for use in wound care.

The specific Manuka honey now approved for use as a medical device is believed to have special anti-infection and anti-inflammatory properties. If you're considering using honey to treat a mild burn, sunburn, or small wound at home, make sure to use raw honey.

Creativity Is For Copycats

cre·a·tive (kr-tv)

adj.

1. Having the ability or power to create: Human beings are creative animals.

2. Productive; creating.

3. Characterized by originality and expressiveness; imaginative: creative writing.

n.

One who displays productive originality: the creatives in the advertising department.

♣♣♣

I often get comments about how creative I am. These are usually uttered with a wistful look in the eye of the speaker, followed with something along the lines of "I wish I were that creative, but I don't have a creative bone in my body."

One of my friends, Christa D., told me once about something she heard regarding this very lament: we are all creative beings. Why? Because we were made in the image of the Creator.

Not long ago, I was thinking about the very essence of creativity. What does it mean to be creative? Isn't it just rearranging known variables in a new order, and maybe even throwing in one or two that no one seems to have combined with those before?

For example, in yesterday's post, I posted a video detailing the many variations of Pachelbel's Canon in D that have appeared in western music. Why is this? Well, let's think about it: There are only 12 different tones in our scale, covering almost eight octaves. There are only a finite number of chords that can be built with those tones. And to limit it further, our ears are trained to prefer only certain movements of those chords. For instance (bear with me as the music geek comes out for a minute), I think you would be hard-pressed to find a song on the radio today that does not end in a V-I chord combination, unless they chose to leave it deliberately unresolved. ("Clocks" is a good example of an unresolved song.) Without that good V-I punch at the end, the song does not feel "finished."

More than that, there are certain chords we like to hear more than the others. And we like them to move a certain way to other chords. With all of these "rules" to what makes a "good song," is it any wonder that there has been very little truly creative happen in pop music since Bach was writing fugues for his organ?

What?! you say in shock. Are you comparing bands like Nine Inch Nails, KISS, Enigma, and yes, even artists like Gordon Lightfoot and Shania Twain to classical music? Beethoven would roll over in his grave!

You think my statement too harsh? Remember, Beethoven wrote the popular music of his time, and if he wrote something a little too radical, it was not likely to earn him a lot of money--similar to artists of today.

Of course there has been plenty of creativity in music over the last four hundred years, even in "pop" music. However, you seldom see big jumps in style all at once. Usually it is a gradual change--each generation and artist building on the knowledge of the last, pushing the edges of the popular style envelope (but not too much!), but with a backbone that still very much resembles the original. We still use the same 12 tones. The same basic chords. Even Indian music, which also incorporates quarter tones, still has to deal within finite limitations. The generation after Bach wasn't suddenly shaking their hips to "Old Time Rock-and-Roll," for instance. And Mozart was considered a radical who died young--and broke.

We can see further clarification of this if we look at today's popular genres. (I keep emphasizing "popular", because the twentieth century saw some really far-out stuff, musically, that WAS a rather big jump away from what the masses were listening to--but on the other hand, the masses don't know the names of most of those composers, and it is the masses I am addressing, so we'll stick to popular music.) A country song sounds very different, stylistically, than a punk rock song. I have a friend who insists that country stopped evolving creatively about ten years ago, that they have hit a rut, and every song now follows the same basic formula that country has used for the last decade. He prefers heavy metal, because he says that at least there is still creativity being employed there.

Now, I'm not into metal myself, but I can appreciate his enthusiasm when he talks about such-and-such guitarist with jazz roots throwing jazz-based riffs into his guitar solos. Not only that, it would be ridiculous to try to write a song that would work for both country and heavy metal--not a style you often see "redone" in the other. (I only say "often" to cover my butt--I don't know of any, but that doesn't mean no one's ever tried it.) So, in other words, when someone sits down to write a song for a particular genre, there are rules which one must follow to be accepted as "creative" in that genre. Yes, you want to make it sound different enough from everything else out there that you don't land yourself in a plagiarism suit, but, as mentioned before, there are only so many methods you can employ to this purpose. Plagiarism is more easily recognized in lyrics than music, unless there is a certain riff that is in both the "new" and the "plagiarized" songs.

Anyway, let's get back to my point, which is this: anyone to whom the world refers as "creative" is actually and essentially a copycat--their creativity lies in being able to arrange the elements they are given in a way that is slightly different from everyone else's. The elements are the same, and certain formulas must still be applied in their arrangement. It is the arrangement itself which is the "x-factor", that makes it special.

Let's apply this to other things: Science. If I remember correctly, the atom bomb was invented almost simultaneously in three different places around the globe. These scientists rearranged the elements and knowledge that they were building on from those who went before in such a way that they discovered this super-destructive mechanism. The time was just right--all the elements were available, waiting for that "creative" x-factor to discover the secret they held. It could not even have happened before then, because the human race did not possess enough knowledge to have the correct elements of re-arrangement. But once they did, "creativity" took over.

In scrapbooking, everyone works with the same basic elements: photos, paper, glue, words, and embellishments. Even in scrapbooking, you see certain "rules". You often hear about "design rules" and "what looks best on a page," as well as different scrapbooking "styles." And just as often, you hear about "throwing out the rules". The beauty is, you don't have to be creative to scrapbook. Be a copycat. It's actually a hobby where blatant plagiarism is encouraged! (Well, in the actual layouts, so long as you are not making money off of them or something.) But it's also a hobby where you are free to be as creative as your imagination--and your nerve--allows. Rearrange those elements with wild abandon! The copycat part is that you are using the same basic tools that everyone else has available to them, in a medium that is pre-determined. The creativity comes in knowing that you can use any arrangement of those tools that you want--and you can't be wrong! It's your scrapbook--as long as you are happy with it, that's what counts!

Here's something even more basic: cooking. Whether you are scrambling eggs, or inventing a new pie recipe, there are certain restrictions placed upon you by the very definition of what you are trying to create--but you are free to combine any flavours that you wish within those restrictions. Your tongue (or your family) will tell you the outcome, but all you really need, all anyone really needs, is the bravery to try. To risk. To stick your neck out and rearrange the elements.

So c'mon. Be creative. Be a copycat!