Tender Mercies

I recently read an article from the Weizman Institute of Science  that explained how a good diet for one person can be a bad diet for another person.  In this study, the scientists followed 800 people over the course of 47,000 meals and monitored the blood sugar levels after eating. Through this study they found that identical meals triggered huge differences in post-meal blood sugar levels. For one lady who had a history of obesity and diabetes, her blood sugar spiked markedly after eating tomatoes. Now, aren't tomatoes supposed to be healthy? Maybe for you. Another person had a larger blood sugar spike after eating bananas than cookies. Another surprising finding. The premise that a diet can be good for one person and bad for another caught me by surprise at first because I'm constantly reading about the "next big" superfood or a cure-all diet plan. But then I thought about it and realized that I wasn't surprised at all. Intuitively I have learned what

photo credit: Victor Whipple I was sitting on the couch the other day watching my baby play. She won't be a baby for much longer and I think there is a part of me that is mourning. Toddlerhood is coming towards us like a runaway train. Lately I've noticed some little quirks about my baby and wondered if something was wrong with her.  Is it normal for her to pull at her hair while shes's nursing? Why does she hit herself or bonk her head against the wall (albeit gently)? Why is she grinding her little baby teeth? Why does she have to put EVERYTHING into her mouth?? Shouldn't she have outgrown this by now? As I was thinking all of these things, I realized I didn't want my baby to have any  weaknesses. I didn't want to accept that she would struggle with things or have some silly idiosyncrasies. Why couldn't she just stay by perfect little baby forever?  But isn't that what motherhood is all about? It's about learning to let go

Dear Adelai, There is only one month left of you being a baby. I'm starting to see glimpses into your toddler years and it excites and terrifies me at the same time. I've begun thinking about and planning how to wean you. When you were first born, I had the goal of breastfeeding you for a year, but secretly I hoped we could continue longer. You and I have always had a good nursing relationship. I am the only one who can breastfeed you and give you that sort of comfort and I didn't want anyone to take that away. I worked so hard and waited so long to meet you, that I want to hold onto you forever and keep giving you the nourishment of mother's milk and snuggle you against my chest; you won't snuggle otherwise. But I am tired. It's a good tired, but it's still fatigue. And you are growing up. I was torn about when to wean and how to do it. The funny thing about researching a problem and seeking answers is that you can find any  answer you want