Julia Child Movie

My husband allowed me to have peace by myself sans children, including one whom I am exclusively breastfeeding and takes no pacifiers or bottles. He did this for me last month and for the entire week following I was a happy mama. Just getting a few moments to myself where I can actually sit was wonderful for my soul. Both times he has given me a reprieve I have opted to go to the cinema. Last month I saw the latest Harry Potter movie, of which I am devout follower. This time, however, I went to see a movie about someone and something I love dearly. Julia Child and food.

I have always loved food. It has been more of a love and hate relationship in the past. I loved to eat food but it seemed to hate my body. Food did a number on my intestines, my blood sugar levels, or my waist. But the whole time my mouth loved it. Travelling through the teenage years though was when I truly lost my connection with food. I was lost when I ate. Should I eat this or should I eat at all? Yes, I struggled with an eating disorder for many years. They were dark, confusing years but after I married and matured I began to rediscover my connection with food again.

My food relationship had evolved like a marriage. I always loved food but I had to learn to dance and move with it to discover what fit and where it fit. Being sans gluten, dairy, soy, and legumes my relationship with food had focused me on it to a finite level. I was careful with each element of a meal. I knew what it was, where it came from, what it paired best with, and so on. It was a relationship evolving. It is still evolving, every day. Just like a marriage.

When my new relationship with food began again I became obsessed. I read every cookbook I could place my hands on. Even now, you can find me in the aisles with books on food in bookstores, or find me reading the latest issue of "Food and Wine" at my local library while the kids play and find books. Reading cookbooks calms me. Photographs, or no photographs, the words speak to my soul. It is a warmth that soothes me. It is a place where I search for peace and find it, every time.

I truly began to cook well though while reading "French Women Don't Get Fat". It was like a wake up call. I could eat what I liked and it would like me back. I just started to fine tune the recipes for what my preferences and tolerances were. Mireille Guiliano was in essence my teacher. From there I went back to cookbooks I had acquired and saw the recipes in a new light. Her book inspired me to cook better and richer foods even with all the foods our family was unable to eat. Thank you Mireille.

However life changing the "French Women Don't Get Fat" book was, and it was, I had already been sneaking reads from Julia Child's books. I was hooked from the first page. I own none of her books, which is very sad, but every time I go to a bookstore I immediately look for one of her books. I watched her numerous times on television, which delighted me because she was such a beautiful soul, but it was her words in her recipes that touched my heart deeply. And even though almost, who am I kidding, all of her recipes include butter, something it seems my body can longer eat due to intolerance and an attempt to stave of any more symptoms of Multiple Sclerosis, I am still very fond of her food and even more her passion for food.

I was unaware that a movie was even being made about Julia Child. Even more surprising was that the woman portraying Julia Child was my favorite actress Meryl Streep. When I saw the preview, five days before it was released, my eyes brimmed with tears and I was bouncing off my seat letting out little "oh, oh". My husband laughed and told me I should see it and he would watch the kids. For five whole days I waited. I watched the trailer at least thirty times and I tried to wait as patiently as I could.

I chose a late afternoon movie at the cinemas closest to our house, that way if our littlest one needed to eat, it would be easy for my husband to get to me. I fed our littlest one a final time, made a pot of sage and borage tea, sweetened with a touch of agave nectar, and cut up two carrots to take into the movie with me. The cinema complex is only about a ten minute walk from our house so I kissed the kids good-bye and listened to my four-year old yell out the front door, "I'm really, really going to miss you, Mommy!", and walked the short distance, enjoying the sprinkles of rain that fell on my head and relishing in the moment of not having to answer any questions from curious little ones.

When I arrived at the parking lot of the cinema complex it was about ten minutes before the movie was due to begin and many, many people were arriving at the same time. What made the arrival of so many people different than most other times I have visited the cinema was the fact that everyone walking in front or behind me was well over the age of sixty. Grey hair was everywhere. I had a good feeling that they were going to watch the same film, "Julie & Julia". I was right. So many older women had come to watch a movie about a woman they had grown old with. I mean, my goodness, Julia Child was ninety-one when she died in 2004. Who knows how many of the women viewing the film with me had been influenced my Julia Child!

I chose a seat nearest the aisle and the theatre quickly filled. The comical part of it all was the fact that so many of them came with walkers and canes. There was no way there were enough seats not on the stairs to accommodate them all. It didn't stop this older crowd. They hobbled there way up and down the stairs, canes and walkers in tow. Many a walker and cane were left at the end of the aisle they chose their seat on, which came to be nearly almost every aisle. The beautiful thing for me to note was that almost all of the older crowd dressed up. They dressed to come and view this film. My dress, on the other hand was a t-shirt, cargo pants, and flip-flops. I felt completely under dressed and felt at the end of the film the need to wear a fancy 50s dress with snazzy heals and a string of pearls. The whole experience touched me. I felt more comfortable with these older women than I did most of my peers. I shared a film about a woman we all knew and loved. We laughed at the same moments and shared a special story. I found myself at peace in that dark theatre watching the life of a woman I greatly admired.

As evidenced by my words there should be no doubt that I loved the film. Meryl Streep was fantastic and portrayed Julia Child beautifully. Julia Child created something for herself when she could not find it. I hope I am able to do the same. I don't want to be famous, as Julia Child was, but I do know that I love my family, I love food, I love reading, I love writing, I love to travel, and I love to learn. Essentially, I am living my perfect dream job but I receive no monetary funds, a sad but true fact. Now, being a Julia Child admirer I should take to heart her life lesson and CREATE a job with all the the things I am passionate about and do it. One where I am happy and I receive money!

I encourage anyone reading this to see the film or better yet read Julia Child's cook books, books, or find her past television episodes. She was a fantastic example of how to live life even if it isn't exactly what you had in mind in the beginning. Julia Child lived and loved life to its fullest. Cheers to our wonderful and beautiful Julia Child!

EFT(Emotional Freedom Technique) for two-year old

I found out about EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique) last summer, completely by accident. I was struggling with potty training my oldest daughter. She was fine urinating but when it came time to poop she would become completely overwhelmed. The fear that gripped made her unable to use the bathroom. She would hold it for days. One time even a whole week. I was frustrated, to say the least. One day, while taking my dogs in for the annual check-up, I encountered a kind woman at the veterinarian's office. She was talking about how beautiful my children were and how well I handled two children and two dogs. I opened up to her and told her I felt like a failure because my daughter was struggling to poop potty train and I was mad at my daughter for it.

This woman showed no judgement but instead comforted me with kind words, telling me I was doing all I knew to do but she knew of something that could help. It was then she introduced me to the idea of EFT. She used EFT with animals but informed me that it worked just as well with humans. She encouraged me and reassured me I was a good mother, regardless.

After this encounter with the woman, I looked up EFT. I appreciated her kindness so much that I thought this "stuff" might work. It seemed a little hokie to me, even though I believe in acupuncture, acupressure, meditation, and so on. I honestly just wasn't willing to try it. It seemed like too much work. I half-heartedly tapped on myself and in the heat of potty training attempted it on my daughter, who in no uncertain terms told me she didn't want any tapping. I gave it up but over the course of the year it pulled on me and I began to read more and more about how successful EFT was, even for those suffering from PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). I know how serious PTSD can be. My younger brother suffers from PTSD after three tours in Iraq. He even has a PTSD service dog to help him daily. It is a true nightmare for him, and those who help him, in his darkest hours. I thought if EFT could help people with PTSD I should seriously try it out.

Fast forward one year and my son is struggling with a fear of the dark. It isn't PTSD but a great fear, nonetheless. It was disrupting his sleep, as well as everyone else's being that we all sleep in the same room ("family bedroom").It was such a deep-seeded fear that he wouldn't go outside after the sun set, he'd wake gripped with fear at night knowing he was sleeping IN the dark, and the mere mention of the darkwould elicit the words "I scared of the dark, Mama." I don't know what started it, or if he has always been afraid, but I wanted to approach this fear with peaceful methods. I had just finished giving birth to our third child and had used meditation and relaxation to have the most beautiful birth with nearly no pain at all. I had birthed all three of my children naturally but this final birth was truly a pleasureable experience because I did it whole-heartedly and believed in what I was doing. I too wanted to focus all our energy in doing it with our whole hearts and not focusing on his fear but on how to live with, and overcome, it peacefully. EFT seemed to be very peaceful.

The founder of EFT explains EFT as " an emotional version of acupuncture wherein we stimulate certain meridian points by tapping on them with our fingertips. This addresses a new cause for emotional issues (unbalanced energy meridians)." By releasing the energy from these points we can help ourselves, in mind and body, reach a balance that can help us be successful and overcome the obstacles along the way that may stop of us from being in balance.

I read more on EFT and visited the EFT website. In addition, I looked up information about it on Google and YouTube. YouTube introduced me to a man, Brad Yates, that made EFT easier for me to understand and follow. I practiced on myself and then on my son. The first time we "tapped" my son was so excited to do it, he didn't want to stop. Then I started to notice that it helped me too, with my anger, sadness, and just general overwhelming emotions. This stuff was willing working. After a few tapping sessions, my son began asking for it at bedtime and naptime. I even noticed a naptime, one day, that He was truly struggling to fall asleep. He seemed sacred. He was crying and thrashing about. I started to "shhh" him and tap while lying next to him in the family bed. After two tapping go-arounds he fell asleep peacefully and woke happy. He even announce to me "I happy now, Mom."

I currently use EFT everyday on myself and my children. They let me know when they don't want to tap but for the most part they are quite receptive. The other day we even sat together in the middle of the dog-hairy living room floor and tapped together because our morning had been the morning from hell and we were all the worst for wear from it. It helped us all to calm down and just be able to talk with one another. My oldest daughter even said, "Mommy, that tapping made you happy."

I wanted to post this because it has been an invaluable tool in helping our family deal with our emotions and the daily challenges we have. I recommend visiting and searching through the EFT website, even though the manual is a free eighty-page download(something that you ABSOLUTELY do not have to do to practice EFT). It is a gem to find and I hope that me writing about EFT helps someone out there who is looking for help and wants to try something peaceful. It doesn't hurt to try.

Wellie boots and kites

The joy in having children is that it is alright to indulge your own childish ambitions and not feel foolish. Splashing in puddles is a favorite of mine but the older I have gotten the less I seem to do it. This has changed some now that I have had children and they have grown to the age of walking, running and jumping. My children would splash in water with their wellie boots at any given moment, in any given season. They enjoy wearing their wellie boots in the house, when mama hasn't noticed they have snuck them in, and they seem to coordinate with all outfits, even fine party dresses and pajamas. Ah, wellie boots. Nothing could be more perfect.

Wellie boots also tell a little about your personality. Keagan has frog wellies that shine a bright unnatural green. They are two sizes too big for his feet but they stay on because his legs and feet are so, um, round. He is two years old and wears wellie boots that are a size toddler 10. They work for him and he doesn't like to be parted from them. They enable him to get dirty and wet but not dirty and wet. Plus, you can tell he FEELS like a big boy in them.

Keeley has a pair of yellow and black wellies. She likes the color yellow because it reminds her of the sun and they look like the famous wellie boots supplied in the water room at our local Children's Museum. Keeley is nearly invincible in her wellie boots and sometimes forgets that wellie boots don't guarantee water won't go in her boots if you splash super high. Nevertheless, wellington boots make her happy and when she puts them her smile is instant.

My wellie boots are simply black. I got them for under twenty-dollars at Wal-Mart and they have allowed me to garden, pick-up dog poop in a wasteland of mud, and splash in puddles with my children. They are simple but see many adventures and rise to the challenges I throw at them, much like me. I love my wellies too and when I slip them on, just outside the door, I feel a sudden rush of comfort and home-like familiarity that makes me not want to pull them off.

This morning was finally a warm morning here, warm in the that it made it to forty degrees. The ice had finally melted in the back yard and it looked to me like a perfect morning to explore over at the field, by our local library, to find unfrozen puddles and attempt to fly kites. The kites were a nice thought but both a had a stick missing and there simply wasn't enough wind, but having a four and a two year old, that did not stop us from dragging them along the muddy ground repeatedly yelling, "FLY KITE! FLY!"

The puddles are what the children enjoyed most and I think that their faces probably ached afterwards because I never saw them stop smiling. Keagan of course fell in the puddles more than once and Keeley splashed so much that when we took her wellies off water dripped off her socks. Neither complained though and we enjoyed about an hour outside in chilly weather simply splashing.

Of course, after a fun puddle morning you have to enjoy a cup of hot cocoa. We headed to the store to replenish our cow milk supply but when we checked out realized the money supply was too low. Back home with no cow's milk, I suddenly realize that I have just enough to get non-organic, non-raw milk from the local pharmacy. A quick two-minute walk between buildings and two-minutes back and homemade hot cocoa starts to brew on the stove. Four minutes later we all sit at the kitchen table, Keeley having changed back into her warm, out-of-season Christmas jamas and Keagan in a diaper and sweatshirt. The toasty, chocolaty brew warms our bellies and all is well and happy in the house.

Now I sit quietly writing and preparing menus for the upcoming birth of Rylie Bay in the next week or so, while Keeley and Keagan play pretend with all their toys and all the couch cushions. Today, for me, is a blissful day. I spent time outside with my children, and even though the hubby wasn't there to share in our day he is working just upstairs and randomly descends the stairs to give me kisses and say "I love you". Yes, this is a blissful day of wellie boots and kites.

You're beautiful

Oh, the absolute peacefulness of watching the little ones sleep. It draws me in yet I can't seem to fall asleep when I watch them, eyes closed dreaming of things only they can imagine. Keeley dreams of ponies, rainbows, chocolate, the ocean. Keagan dreams of trains, snow, water, and still mama. I love when they are at peace. It is as if I have accomplished something in my life. It isn't as if their being at peace is somehow manifested by me, which I know is only partly true. What I do does affect them but they also are who they are. How they see life itself allows them to be in the state of being who and what they are. Nevertheless, I relish in the peace that comes with their sleep. Especially, afternoon naps.

Today was a nap that Keeley and Keagan both had to venture into without me. That's not to say that while I stroked them to sleep in their individual cots I didn't long to slumber away in dreamworld too but domestic duties called, especially with the very up-and-coming birth of little Rylie Bay. I rubbed and hummed to both. Keagan was the first to succumb to the sandman and as I studied his chubby, marker-colored cheeks I longed to freeze time. Marker covered his lips, nose, ears. I had scrubbed earlier in the afternoon but it had remained on all his cute chubbiness. I was glad for the stain because as he clutched his little Thomas engine in his chubby hand I realized how quickly time had passed and my heart ached. I almost wanted to wake him so that we wouldn't miss any moments but didn't, knowing the consequences if I did. Instead, I whispered "I love you" and brushed his short locks behind his ear, while he drooled colors on his tan pillow.

I rolled, as much as my ever-growing belly allowed, over to Keeley's cot. She wanted to fall asleep but also wanted to enjoy the time being alone with me. I miss having her in the "family bed" but six family members in one bed is just not a restful sleep. She misses me too, I know, so when I cuddle her to sleep on her cot I pretend we are in the bed together. I held her in her warm, green sleeping bag while the two of us watched the soft snowflakes falling outside the window. We both watched through sleepy eyes. She was still wearing the the purple, flowery footy pajamas she had worn the previous night. She had asked me in the morning if she could just be cozy all day and stay in her jamas all day, even going to a friend's house for a play date in her footy pajamas, though accessorized with a pink bow, of course. I had since removed the delicate pink bow. I gazed at that beautiful girl and wondered how she was so big. She is older than her years and is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I reached towards her head and brushed her beautiful long curls and waited for her breathing to become slower and deeper. It wasn't long. I kissed her, much like I did Keagan, and wished she would never grow up. As I whispered "I love you" to her she whispered it back, snuggled her life-size pink pony into her and drifted peacefully back to pink and rainbow dreams.

I lay on the floor, between the two cots, for a long time after Keeley was asleep. I was almost paralyzed with an excitement and a fear. The excitement from all the love and the fear that something so strong could exist. The love for my children makes me such a strong and vibrant person, one I NEVER imagined I could be. How is this possible from two little people? All I know is that their beings make my world a happy one, even when all else seems to be not-so-happy. For now I will relish the present and try and eat every moment I can with them. Present-being is what I seek but it is hard to not think ahead sometimes. The future can hold such wonderful adventures and possibilites but the fear of failure is something that bites and stings too. Failure though is a great thing because you learn and it molds you. Peace is a daily search of mine and I gain a little in various moments throughout my day but I have to say the most peace I had today was in the face of my children, but there also rested my uneasiness and fears. All wrapped up like a present. My present.

Farewell to the pacifier.

My daughter, you were born a healthy baby girl weighing in at 9lbs 9oz. There wasn’t a flaw about you, except one thing, you were ill. The doctors told your father and me that you were fine when we explained you cried all the time and seemed to be in pain. Your daddy knew it was more than the normal newborn fussy and I just assumed it was because I was a poor parent. As usual, your daddy knew you. You and he have always had a special bond. But after really taking heed to his thoughts on you I began to notice that it wasn’t poor parenting but that you were truly ill. I decided then and there that I would find out what was wrong with you.

I wanted to nurse you, to nurse you as long as you wanted. I wanted to be the natural mother who just attained all natural instincts and could figure out anything with you but I had to work at it, and work hard. You were in so much pain that even when I fed you it made you miserable. I pumped mama milk and put it into a bottle for you because it seemed to cause you less pain with the reflux you had developed. In addition, I began to take numerous foods out of my diet in hopes that it would ease your discomfort and crying. It was difficult and we shed many tears together, but in the end we found out that you had celiac disease.

Early on, when researching possible food intolerances and allergies on the internet, I thought your pain might have been celiac disease. It was one of those gut feelings that I had. It was a feeling that turned out to be true. After we found out the truth you began to heal and grow and I right along with you. Gut feelings are something I have since learned to trust and live by.

You see I had been hurting for a long time too but I denied it. It was both a physical and mental pain. When I had you, you changed me. I thank God for you. You brought me joy and a new life. When you smiled, and still today, it made me fill with such joy that I couldn't help but be happy. We journeyed together through pain and hurt but also growth and happiness. We both may not eat gluten but I will tell you that if eating no gluten means I get to be happy and healthy everyday then I will gladly, and with an open-mouth, take it. Thank you for my joy and my new life, my daughter. But even with joy there will still be sadness. Tomorrow will be a new change for both of us. It will be hard and sad at first but in the end it will all be for the good.

Tomorrow will be the end of baby for you. At least for me it will be. I should say that you will always be my baby but tomorrow will be the end of the chapter where you actually stop being a little baby, and I am sad. The thought of it brings tears to my eyes and if I dwell on the thought for long then I will cry uncontrollably.

It is a simple object that you and I have become so attached to. I never wanted to give it to you but I did because I felt there was no option. You cried so much when you were first born and it seemed that I couldn’t hold you, feed you, or love you in the right way. Many people suggested I give it to you because it might bring you comfort, and it did. As much as I am for being a nature-lover I gave in and I am glad that I did. What happened to you was unnatural and any comfort I could give you while I figured out a solution to your pain was a gift. This silly object was the best thing that happened to you or me.

You needed it almost as much as you needed me. And to me that was okay because I was a new mom and I was figuring it all out as I went along. I still am. But this was something you could have no matter what time of day, night, mood, feeling, want, need, or time. I gave it to you whenever you wanted. I desired so much for you to want and need me that much but I understood because I could be moody. And after hours and hours of you crying and me not knowing what to do this object helped us both. It helped soothe your spirit, which in turn brought calm to both of us. It was a tool that aided me in helping you.

I have watched you for over three years now hold on to this object through your unhealthy and healthy times. Happy and sad. Tired and rested. With me and without. I have been jealous of it, mad at it, grateful for it and now wishing it could be here longer because I am having as hard a time as you at letting it go. I know that I will cry and grieve with you when we say good-bye but it is time. The right time for both us. We are ready and now we just have to take the big leap.

Tomorrow you will say good-bye to a friend and comfort, and I will say good-bye to a friend and comfort too. But also with my good-bye will be me letting go of the little baby you no longer are. It is time that I will treasure and miss forever. At the end of this chapter of our lives there will be a most definite mourning but I hope that with our next chapter there will be love, comfort and joy with each other. We will learn to dance, play music, create new memories and stories, and cook and explore new foods and adventures together. I love you, my beautiful baby girl, but tomorrow we will say good-bye together because it is the right time. Here is a farewell to a faithful friend-your pacifier.

Mad as a wet hen...at plastics.

That's right. I am as mad as a wet hen...at plastics. I have known for sometime that plastics are not healthy but to the extent I wasn't quite so sure. I am a health-conscious woman, mama, and wife and whenever a issue concerning health affects one of the aforementioned I get passionate, fired-up, even zealous about making it right for my family. Thus, my anger at plastics.

What has spurred my latest vigilance against plastics, or truly the ones marked with the number 7, is the almost ban by Canada of this plastic in baby bottles. It grabbed the headlines of almost every news source I came across. It made the hubby and I take notice and what we noticed was that all of our water bottles, kids' bottles included, were marked with number 7. Bad. Even our dogs' bottle that we store their water in was of that material too. After reading numerous articles on it we went into the kitchen and out went all the unsafe plastics to the trash. At the end of our round-up, what was affected most was our children's drinking cups. Though the whole family's supply of Nalgene ever day drinking water bottles were also included in the throw-out. This was so scary to me. That night I could hardly sleep for all the anger I felt. I bought most of these things thinking they were safe but it turns out I could really have been doing my family harm; my pets included. Grrrr... As it seems with all things in life, I must take this wild energy and head back to the drawing board and formulate a new and positive plan. I am now taking my energy and putting it towards creating an even more healthy and eco-friendly life for me and my family. On my journey, however, I want to encourage others to examine even the small things in their life that could be changed for the positive. Not just food (please don't forget that) but material objects, attitudes,and such. I thought I was open minded, healthy, and earth-friendly but this whole plastics business has made me realized that I still have so much to learn and that if I don't grow and change in a positive way then life will never be great. Life is all about learning and growing, loving and living. I am thankful for so much but at the same time so much needs to change.

Below I am listing some links about the plastics that I have found. The reason that plastic #7 is concerning to me is that it can leech BPA (Bisphenol A, or BPA, is an industrial chemical used to make polycarbonate plastic resins, epoxy resins, and other products) which can mimic the natural hormone estrogen that we secrete. Too much is not a good thing. It can lead, or cause, cancer (breast, prostate), as well as cause birth defects and neurological problems. All of the research on it is still ongoing, but so far it looks like this is not going to turn out to be a safe product to use for water and food supplies. I know that plastics in general are not a good thing for our environment but not being safe to use is distressing to me. It is a wake up call to change how we are doing things, and for the better.

I hope this post on this blog is helpful to someone, somewhere. As for us, we are currently drinking from our new Sigg water bottles and trying to use glass or our own goods for storage and all else. A great place to buy glass food storage for me was our local co-op. I have bought glass jars for beans, peanut butter, pasta, candies, etc. We buy most of our foods in bulk and then as an alternative to plastic containers we can buy a glass jar there, fill it up, weigh it, pay for it, and then re-use it in the future. Some aren't as blessed to have such a great co-op but Wal-Mart sells a case of mason jars for under $10, and most grocery stores still have bulk sections. Think about. Whatever we do we should try and make wiser choices, so here is to using less plastic!

ABC News article about BPA

Green Guide by National Geographic

Scientific discoveries about endocrine disruptions

Article about Nalgene bottles being unsafe

Sippy cups that are not plastic

New book by Jenny McCarthy

After Jenny McCarthy's new book came out several people emailed me, and called, to ask if I had heard about Jenny McCarthy and her son. I enjoyed Jenny McCarthy's first two books, Belly Laughs and Life Laughs, but I hadn't heard much about her since then and was quite surprised to read the title of her new book, Louder than Words: A Mother's Journey in Healing Autism. Friends had contacted me because she had put her son on a gluten-free/casein-free diet in order to help with his autism. I found it fascinating being as I am on a gluten, dairy and soy-free diet to help me with what could possibly be multiple sclerosis.

In my case doctors are not completely sure what I have. It could be multiple sclerosis, it could be celiac disease, it could be neurological gluten-sensitivity. All I know is my daughter has confirmed celiac disease and I had an episode where I lost motor function on one side of my body, suffered from optic neuritis, and had possible lesions on my brain as seen on an MRI image of my brain (very strong possiblity these were simple artifacts but no one knows for sure) and have suffered from IBS for years. What I do know is that since April 2006 I have felt better than I have in my whole life. And now that I am COMPLETELY gluten, dairy and soy-free I am the happiest and healthiest I have ever been in my life.

In Jenny McCarthy's case, she feels her son's autism was triggered by a combination vaccination and that through a special diet she is able to help manage the symptoms. I give kudos to her for being so brave and looking for answers on her own. Most doctors mean well, I should know I am married to a man who is in his third year of medical school, but some if not most overlook major issues. As was the case with my girl. When a doctor says "She's fine." and you know in your gut something isn't right, listen to that instinct. I feel God gave woman, not to slight on men because my husband was right in the depths of our trials with our little girl, a gift. A gift of motherly, I should say womanly, instinct. Nine times out of ten this instinct is right on the money. Jenny McCarthy listened to hers and was able to help her son in a most valuable way, a chance at having a happy life. I commend her and all the other brave mothers and fathers out there who's aspirations for their children are happy and healthy lives, and when their kids aren't healthy will go to any length to make them that way.

It is so amazing to me how food, which I have come to realize may just be the center of our world, can play such an important role in how we feel and live. I thank God that He gave me the tools to help me and my family become healthy so that we can in turn help others and focus on making the world a better place to live in. Who knows, this may simply be done one bite at a time.