When we got home I asked my mother-in-law how long she cried, figuring that it had probably gone on for some time. “Not long at all,” she said. “I told her we were getting her a bed tomorrow.” Oh, crap I thought, even when she offered, right then and there, to pay for the promised bed. Her explanation was simple. She felt bad for Little Girl being “caged up like an animal,” and wanted us to make sure she would never have to be cooped up like that again. (She also said that Little Girl acts crazy and like an animal because we keep her caged. I completely disagree, of course. That kid was nutty in my belly.)

I had plenty of arguments against the bed, which I offered up. She’s not even three, I said. She’ll never stay in a bed. She’s too crazy. But my mother-in-law was adamant. So was Little Girl when she woke up on Sunday. “We going to get my bed NOW?!?” was the first thing out of her mouth when I went in to take her out. That child’s euphoric excitement was why, later that day, we went to price beds even as I mentally raged against the idea.

I won’t bore you with the details of our shopping trip other than to say we are now the proud owners of an antique white toddler bed. Little Girl is ecstatic. I am miserable. I am, quite truthfully, not ready to give up my baby. I want to keep her little for just a little while longer. I am also really scared that she’ll give up her naps, which are precious to me, a working mom. The majority of her friends stopped napping the moment they got a bed. My kid still sleeps for two-plus hours every day, and those days she doesn’t nap she still gets downtime since she’s trapped in a crib.

Last night — her first night in the bed — she was up until way past midnight. She got out of the bed and came downstairs into the den around 11 p.m., proclaiming it was time for Sesame Street. We were not amused, especially since it meant she navigated a flight of stairs in feetie pajamas and in the dark. And that’s what this time feels like to me: that I am walking, for the first time, alone down a darkened corridor. I’m a little scared and a little excited. But unlike Little Girl, I’d gladly run back to my crib.

Healthy breakfast or chemical-laden ooze? You decide.

Every morning Big Girl and Little Girl have cereal and yogurt. It’s organic yogurt free of artificial flavors and colors, but I still wonder how healthy it is. You see, it comes in a big plastic tub.

I believe the tub is BPA-free, but I can’t really be absolutely sure, can I? I looked it up, of course. It’s marked with a 5, which means it’s polypropylene, according to this Daily Green article. Once I knew what it was made of I looked up that material on Dow Chemical’s product page. Once there, I read all about it. I was somewhat mollified to learn that it’s used for food storage in the European Union, too. (Given its proactive stance on food dyes, BPA, and genetically modified foods, I feel like the EU is a better bellwether than the U.S. government as to whether or not something is healthy.) But can I trust those sources? How do I really know that chemicals aren’t leeching into my supposedly healthy breakfast staple?

I don’t, of course, and it’s not like I can go out and make my own yogurt or buy yogurt in glass jars. So what’s a mom to do? I’m not going to stop giving my kids a food that’s providing 35 percent of their daily calcium intake. Not to mention all the Vitamin D and protein. Have any ideas?

One day, I hope, I won’t have to think about any of this. I will feel safe and protected. Until that day, I have to ask: Have any other ideas on the topic?

This post is how I am participating this week in Real Food Wednesdays and Fight Back Fridays — two awesome campaigns to get people eating real food again.

I won’t lie: This is a nerve wracking process. The first segment east is pretty tame. We stop for all the stop signs. When we go north, I start sweating. It’s a very busy road, and people drive too quickly. I spend most of the time reminding her to stay all the way to the right, and make sure my bike is to her left so I’ll be the first one smooshed. The last leg is terrifying. It’s a bunch of big roads, and even though we ride on the sidewalk it makes me nuts. Still, once we coast into that blocked off bike path I start to relax and enjoy myself.

Yesterday, we made it to the park and had just started doing the loop when I realized that it doesn’t matter where we are, the kid has the ability to twist my heart so hard that it hurts. Literally. We’re riding. Big Girl is practicing standing up on the bike. And then I see it: a tiny dip in the road. I start to call out, but it’s too late. She’s airborne going over the handlebars. I watch in slow motion as her tiny little body slams into the ground, her hands, chest, and knees making contact first.

I don’t remember how I got off my bike. I am on the ground picking her up, searching for blood, looking for bumps. Miraculously, there’s no blood. I am shocked. I thought she took a face plant, too, but we got lucky. Then I start taking stock. Huge, HUGE egg on her knee. Scraped hands. She’s in my arms and I’m rocking her and shushing her and asking her where she hurts. A car drives by on the outside. “Do you need an ambulance?” The woman, who watched my daughter sail off that bike, saw what I saw and assumed the worst. I thanked her and waved her off.

After drying off her tears and making Big Girl stand up I asked if she could ride the rest of the way home. At this point, every cell in my body is screaming. NO! I never, EVER want her to go on a bicycle again. I want to carry her home, wrap her in a bubble, and protect her forever. But I resist the urge to call my husband and demand a car ride home. I do what I know is best: I make her get right back on the horse. And she does. And when we get to the end of the first loop I ask he to do a second loop. Just to make sure she knows she can handle an entire loop without falling. And she’s willing.

After, we bike back to our house. I’m losing my mind inside. It’s getting dark, and I am picturing all the terrible things that can happen. She could swerve into the path of a car. She could hit a pothole. She could ride into a parked car. We make it almost all the way home — we can see our house — when she skids on wet leaves and goes down again. She was barely moving, so it wasn’t like the last one. It was more of a slow-motion side fall. But she’s crying again, and my heart is back in my throat. This time, we start walking back. I’m pushing both bikes, and she’s walking beside me. She finally stops crying, and I coax her back on the bike. I want her to ride into our driveway so we finish the trip on a positive note. She does, and we do, and we go inside.

Later, as she sits on the floor with an old-fashioned ice pack on her knee (WAY better than using a plastic bag, BTW) I start thinking truly crazy thoughts like, what if she has an internal injury? What if she broke something? I know it’s my crazy, but it feels horrible. Later, I tuck her into bed, kiss her goodnight, and wonder why no one ever told me how hard this parenting thing is on your soul.

Lead paint is one of the culprits, so anyone who lives in a home built before 1977 — when the U.S. government banned lead paint — is at risk. Especially if you’ve recently done renovations. But there are other sources as well. Ammunition, foreign mini blinds, or being close to a highway or major road (where, theoretically, there might be a build up of lead from car exhaust) increases risk. Also, there have been many, many toy recalls because of high levels of lead. Who cares, you might wonder? Well, here’s an excerpt from my Parents article:

“Although lead can be toxic to nearly every organ in a child’s body, lead poisoning most commonly causes learning disabilities, speech delays, and behavioral problems, including aggressiveness. Physical symptoms run the gamut from poor appetite to stomach pain to persistent sluggishness…In high doses, lead poisoning can lead to kidney damage, deafness, and coma.”

Scary stuff, right? And now there’s one more source of potential lead to worry about. Yesterday, researchers from Virginia Tech identified another source: brass products in plumbing systems that can leach high levels of lead into drinking water even in brand new buildings. Water faucets and drinking fountains can be affected. Lead leeches out into the water, and then you cook in it or kids drink or bathe in it and you’ve got a problem.

So what’s a person to do? Get your kids tested for lead, of course. Some states mandate testing in childhood, some don’t. (Anyone on Medicaid, for example, gets the test.) It’s a simple pinprick. And just because your child passes the test (has low levels) at 18 months, ask for a retest every few years. You can also get tested before getting pregnant to make sure you have a clean bill of health since the fetus can be affected by high lead levels. (High lead levels are linked to an increased risk of maternal high blood pressure or preeclampsia.)

Have you ever done a home lead test? Have your kids been tested for lead? I’d like to know.

This girl, who gave her son — now two — a regular flu shot last year but declined the H1N1, doesn’t know what she’s going to do this year. She doesn’t want to give her son the H1N1, and she was fairly distraught. She even called other pediatricians to see if they had a version without the H1N1. They didn’t. And, according to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, there’s a reason: Every single flu shot also contains the H1N1. They explain it on a Flu.gov website.

After reading more about it, I am glad she asked me, because there’s more to this than just the H1N1 being included, there’s a mercury issue, too.

I think it’s fairly egregious that the media hasn’t picked up and reported on either the fact that the flu virus has the H1N1. Not surprised, though, since plenty of people I know took the regular flu shot last year, but refused the H1N1. They don’t want to scare people out of getting the vaccine. But more important is the fact that no one is talking about the way this vaccine is being dolled out. Here’s the gist of it:

There are essentially three versions of the vaccine. (Thanks to Rhresh Living for pointing this out to me and everyone else.)

1) A 0.25 mL single-dose, pre-filled syringe. This version may or may not contain preservatives like Thimerosol.
2) A set of three 0.5 mL single-dose, pre-filled syringes. Again, some of the options do not include Thimerosol.
3) A bulk option, which is five mL or ten to 20 doses. This version absolutely, positively contains Thimerosol because doctors keep drawing from what is essentially an open container so they need something to keep it from spoiling.

So now, not only are you getting the virus that people were scared of, (remember? Even Dr. Oz’s kids didn’t get the H1N1 last year) you’re most likely going to get a nice, big fat dose of mercury since Thimerosol is just that — mercury.

Dr. Sears has a good rundown of which vaccines, specifically, have which formulations. If you’re going to take the flu shot go armed with this information and ASK to see the pamphlet so you know what you and your child are actually getting. If your doctor refuses to show you, walk out.

This is my biggest pet peeve. WE are CUSTOMERS as far as doctors are concerned. They work for US not the other way around. No one should be afraid to ask for information or demand that our doctors and nurses do their jobs with our complete and total consent. I love doctors, but I want to be the one in charge of my care. Dr. Sears agrees:

“The debate over whether or not mercury in the flu shot is enough to cause harm continues to rage on, with no clear resolution yet. I believe it is prudent in the mean time to avoid giving any full-dose mercury shots to children under 3 and to pregnant women. What should you do if all you can find is a full-dose version? Just say no, and tell your doctor why. Maybe if enough patients do this, doctors will order and demand more of the mercury-free version for next year. For kids 2 years and older, get the nasal spray instead (this can’t be given to pregnant women).”

Personally, I never take the flu vaccine. And my kids don’t, either. It’s not mandated for school. It’s not 100 percent effective. In fact, many years the three or so viruses they pick are completely wrong. (The way a flu vaccine works: Scientists try to guess which of the many, many viruses out there will be prevalent. A lot of times they guess wrong.) However, if you’re going to take it or give it to your kids, please, please, please be careful. Take the time to ask questions. Get the shot that doesn’t have mercury. It’s worth the hassle of going to another doctor or waiting until your doctor orders the “right” one. It really is.

Did you get the H1N1 last year? Will you get the flu shot this year? Did you know the flu shot had the H1N1 in it?

Big Girl was a good baby. Angelic, even. She slept through the night almost from day one. She did almost everything very early. She was — and is — a simple, quiet child who was easy to mold. Thirsty for knowledge, she is like a sponge sucking up whatever I teach her. And a great listener! Sit here, I would tell her, and she wouldn’t move a muscle. She’s still a good listener even though now she’ll mouth back if she disagrees. (But she’ll still do what I say.) She has from the moment she could sit up responded to my logical explanations about why she shouldn’t do things with logic. She was always my little adult dressed up in cute pigtails and MaryJane shoes.

Yes, she had her issues. She was and still is shy and cautious. She gets nervous and anxious. She’s emotional. But those are characteristics that I share with her, so I get them, which means I get her. And yes, sometimes those traits drive me bonkers because I want so much for her and don’t want her to repeat my mistakes, but at least they are familiar. Watching my Big Girl grow is like looking at old home movies. She reminds me a lot of myself.

My Little Girl is completely different, as I have mentioned many, many times before. Outgoing, happy, social, physical. The kid came out of me wanting to scale mountains and make new friends. Yes, she’s inquisitive like Big Girl, and smart, too, but a different kind of smart. Great memory just like her sister, but she’s not so much with the sit with Mommy and do flashcards. She’s more touch and learn. She’s a tactile and visual learner where her sister is an auditory and visual learner. Couple that with the fact that she is truly fearless and you see my problem: I can’t control her.

But I was dealing. Until this weekend when we landed not once but twice in the emergency room. You know all about the first trip. The second trip was just as horrifying. I was folding clothes listening to the two girls play. I turned around to get Little Girl and put her to bed when I saw something white on the floor. I bent down and picked it up. Half of a pill capsule. My whole body went cold.

I grabbed my little one and asked her if she had eaten it. “Yes, Mommy. I find it in Nay-nin’s room. I eat it all up. Like candy.” And she giggled. She ate something she shouldn’t have even though she has been told about a million times that we only put food in our mouth, and we only eat things that Mommy and Daddy give us.

And so started an eight hour process that started at the local CVS to see if the pharmacist could identify the pill and ended at a local children’s hospital getting blood tests and being observed. We got home at around 2 a.m. Sunday morning. Sigh. (Turns out she probably didn’t eat it, and for the record we think it was a left over pill from one of the long-gone pets. They all took meds and they all liked to spit them out in corners. Just goes to prove that Little Girl can find the dangerous item in a room full of declawed bunnies and BPA-free bottles of milk.)

Humor aside, these two experiences have left me questioning my skills and capacity as a mother. It’s lead me down some dark hallways in my mind. I am weary. I am scared. This beautiful bundle of energy doesn’t have the same fear and common sense as her sister. So it’s up to me to protect her from everything. But how can I ferret out every danger? How can I always be two steps ahead so we don’t end up in the hospital again?

My husband tells me I have to relax. That we’ve done a good job so far. That kids get hurt. (Even Big Girl had three trips to the ER over the course of her toddlerhood — two that ended in stitches.) The world, according to my husband, is not as dangerous as I think it is. If I try and teach her that it is and hold her back, I will break her spirit, he says. I have to avoid being too draconian or overprotective because trying to keep her down might be more dangerous in the long run than letting her be free and take a few bumps and lumps along the way.

I’m not so sure he’s right. I feel my heart squeezing right now when I think of what we went through this weekend. So please bear with me as I navigate these new, uncharted waters: Being a mom of an explorer who acts first and thinks second. I have a feeling it’s going to be a much bumpier ride than I was expecting…

How do you deal with the fear that comes with being a parent? How do you find a balance between protecting your kids and smothering them? I’d love to know.

Second, my big girl inherited my “love” of the water. I did not do this to her. My husband, a water loving guy who spends his life on boats and in pools, encouraged her to swim as a baby. But she never liked it until last year when she joined a local swim team. Third: My big girl attended swim lessons for four years. The combination of intense fear and a rudimentary knowledge of what to do if she fell in meant my big girl was relatively safe around water. She would never go in alone, and if she fell in she knew, after hours and hours of lessons, what to do to save herself.

My little girl is the complete opposite of her sister. She has absolutely no fear of the water. My big girl would scream if she got even a sprinkle of water on her face. The little one screams to go into the shower and, once there, looks up into the falling water laughing and smiling. In the bathtub the big one always asked to have a washcloth close by to dry her eyes should they get wet. The little one ages me every time she throws herself under the water trying to swim. It’s so bad I have to sit on the edge of the tub with my feet in the water while I am bathing her. With my feet in I can move more swiftly to pull her out. She wants to swim and doesn’t care if, when she submerges her entire head, she drinks a little water. (Which she does several times during every bath.) This is why I was especially interested in the updated guidance from the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) related to swimming. (It’s also why she takes a lot of showers.)

The AAP’s stance used to be that toddlers — kids between the ages of 1 and 3 — shouldn’t take organized swim lessons, a fact that haunted me every time my big girl stepped into the swim class. Today, however, it reversed its stance saying that everyone over a year should take a swim class. From the press release: “New evidence shows that children ages 1 to 4 may be less likely to drown if they have had formal swimming instruction. The studies are small, and they don’t define what type of lessons work best, so the AAP is not recommending mandatory swim lessons for all children ages 1 to 4 at this time. Instead, the new guidance recommends that parents should decide whether to enroll an individual child in swim lessons based on the child’s frequency of exposure to water, emotional development, physical abilities, and certain health concerns related to pool water infections and pool chemicals.”

So someone like my little girl, who lives in a beach community, rides on a boat every weekend and is so strong that she can do a basket hang on the uneven bars BY HERSELF should absolutely be learning to swim. And she will be. I had enrolled her a while back, but work got in the way. I had a credit that I needed to use so I recently signed her up for classes. One-on-one once a week for six weeks. I’m sure we’ll have to continue them, too, since she’s intent on spending the entire summer splashing around in a pool.

Of course, even with the lessons I intend on following the AAP’s other guidance: never leaving her alone for a second and keeping her in a life preserver while we’re on the boat — stuff that’s even more important for my little fearless swimming wanna be.

Do you swim? Do your kids? How am I going to spend the summer in the pool when I hate it…sigh…

This week alone there was a new study that found links BPA exposure to a change in the blood levels of thyroid and reproductive hormones in men. The study, done at an infertility clinic, found that “men with higher urine BPA concentrations had higher blood levels of follicle-stimulating hormone (FSH) and lower levels of inhibin B.” Elevated FSH and lower inhibin B levels are related to lower sperm quality. Meanwhile, the Maine Public Broadcasting Network produced a report that shows there are toxic chemicals such as BPA “lurking” in men’s personal products.

There’s good news, too, of course like all the people who are trying to ban BPA for use in containers that touch our food and water. The Vermont legislature is the latest crusader in this fight, approving a measure this week that will remove BPA from reusable food and drink containers and in jars and cans that contain baby food and infant formula. An even bigger fight is going on this week as the U.S. Senate debates the The Food Safety Modernization Act, which, in a nutshell, was designed to boost food safety. The Act, which amends another act — the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act — gives the Secretary of Health and Human Services the ability to food more closely. Today, based on an amendment to the amendment (wow, confusing all these Acts, right?) from Sen. Diane Feinstein (D-CA), Food Safety Modernization Act would also ban BPA in all plastic food containers.

The chemical industry is, of course, saying this is overkill. That’s no surprise. But it has a few other detractors, too. Namely, the Grocery Manufacturers Association and the U.S. Chamber of Commerce. Wow, right? The Atlantic has an excellent article discussing why this might be, but no matter the reason it’s pretty scary to me. And worrisome. These groups have a lot of lobbying power on the hill. They could absolutely derail this effort.

That’s where we come in. It’s up to us to contact our senators and tell them that we support this ban on BPA. It’s a matter of health. It’s a matter of our future. Still not convinced? Read this Fast Company article, The Real Story Behind Bisphenol A, that explains how it’s hurting us and how big business used Big Tobacco tactics to create a smoke shield, keeping the chemical in our packaging and in our bodies. I can’t imagine anyone could get through it without getting angry enough to do something about it.

Are you sick of hearing about BPA? If not, are you willing to call your senator? Here’s a link to a list of contact information that you can use to reach out to him or her. I’m about to do it myself, actually.

I think the timing of this announcement-that-isn’t-an-announcement is interesting. It came in the form of a conference call on a Friday before a three-day weekend. A conference call so bloggers and other smaller media outlets couldn’t participate, I guess. I can almost hear their reasoning: “Hey, we put it out there. We did our job. It’s not our fault that we did it during earthquake coverage late on a Friday when many people are going away for the weekend.”

But for those people who do care, I like this reminder of what BPA does from a Washington Post article:

BPA, used to harden plastics, is so prevalent that more than 90 percent of the U.S. population has traces of it in its urine, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Researchers have found that BPA leaches from containers into food and beverages, even at cold temperatures.

THIS is the part EVERYONE should really love:

One administration official privy to the talks said the FDA is in a quandary. “They have new evidence that makes them worried, but they don’t have enough proof to justify pulling the stuff, so what do you do?” said the official, who spoke on the condition of anonymity. “You want to warn people, but you don’t want to create panic.”

What, you mean like you didn’t want to panic people when you realized that cigarettes kill? Or that asbestos causes all sorts of cancers? Or that saccharine, which is still on the market, causes cancer?

I’m really disgusted right now. Again, in my opinion the government is taking the side of big business — in this case the plastic manufacturers and the American Chemistry Council, which produces the stuff. You know it may be dangerous. (Heck, may is being nice.) You know that it’s a danger that can be avoided. And yet you take a half-stance. Don’t want to get sued by the plastic industry, I guess.

Want to learn more about avoiding the chemical? I’ve written several posts about what BPA does, and where it can be found. Take a look at them. You also might want to check out this fact sheet from the Department of Health and Human Services. Still not convinced? When the FDA says that they are “concerned” even in the face of big business, you should be very, very worried. It won’t be long, I don’t think, until the rest of the truth comes out. In the meantime, protect yourself, protect your kids, protect your family.

If you see this label, keep walking.

It seems like I keep writing about chicken. This time, I’m hot and bothered about Tyson’s antibiotic debacle. For those of you who don’t know what I am talking about: Tyson Foods, Inc., the company that manufactures all those chicken fingers and sells raw poultry in 2008 was sued for what some called questionable business practices. The gist: The company wanted to be able to say that it didn’t “raise” its chickens with antibiotics. In order to do that it injected all its eggs with antibiotics before they hatched so the chickens growing inside would get the antibiotics, but, at least according to semantics, they were “raised” without antibiotics. The worst part: The antibiotics it was allegedly using were the same ones that are used for human consumption, according to reports. Gentamicin, to be exact, according to a statement released on June 3, 2008 by U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) Undersecretary for Food Safety Richard Raymond.

Around the same time Tyson was sued by its competitors, bringing the issue into the public eye. When consumers heard about it, (and I have to admit, I didn’t hear about it at the time) they flipped. There are plenty of stories that will give you more background, but when it happened, a federal judge told Tyson it had 14 days to remove all “raised without antibiotics” claims from its packaging. The USDA disagreed with the label, it seemed. Consumers Union and the Center for Science in the Public Interest issued a joint letter decrying the injecting eggs practice, and supporting the USDA. Class action lawsuits followed. Eight suits were filed in five states by 22 plaintiffs. The cases were eventually combined into a single class action lawsuit. Which brings us to today.

This week a federal judge in Baltimore is reviewing the fairness of that lawsuit that will award up to $5 million in coupons to consumers — Tyson’s way of saying it’s sorry for the mislabeling snafu, according to the Baltimore Sun. From the story:

Under the proposal, U.S. consumers who bought Tyson chicken with the antibiotic-free labeling between June 19, 2007, when it began, and April 2009, when it was withdrawn, are considered members of the “settlement class,” eligible to apply for cash or coupon refunds. That means anyone who bought fresh, frozen or deli chicken during that time, Cornish hens or tenders.

You’ll get $5, $10, or $50 in coupons depending on if you have cash register receipts or not or if you’re willing to “declare under penalty of perjury” that you spent that kind of cash on Tyson products.

I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking that $5 million isn’t even a drop in the bucket compared to the harm the company probably did to our environment and cumulative health. I’m so disgusted I can’t stand it. I’m actually at a loss. Seems like every time I think it can’t get any worse, someone in mainstream food production does something like this and astounds me with their lack of care for humankind. I was already buying only Bell & Evans air-chilled chickens. What more can I do? Oh, wait. I’m doing it: Don’t buy Tyson chicken anymore. Why would you patronize a company that seemingly cares so little about you and your family?

Did you know about Tyson’s actions? Will you continue buying its products? Was the settlement large enough? Let’s hear it.