Happy Birthday! This has become a standard greeting in our house. Josie wishes me one at least 10 times a day, sometimes with song, sometimes not. I’ve stopped explaining that mine isn’t for a few months and hers isn’t for another six months. I’m rolling with it and thought I’d share the love with you.
Also: interesting conversation in the comments section of My Love of Pockets about why conventional blueberries, which used to be on the consistently clean side of the list, are suddenly #5 on the worst list.
And! In the ongoing quest to find organic BPA-free tomatoes we have a new provider, or at least we will soon. To get caught up on the other sources you can read the comments on this post Hey Everyone Let’s Panic and the next follow up Suspense (and BPA-Free canned tomatoes!). And Muir Glen just announced that with the next tomato harvest they’ll be using BPA-free can liners. Oh gluten-free joy!
I guess I have a thing for pockets. I was mining my notebook for nuggets of entertainment, humor or trivia (slim, very slim) when I came across this little bit about things I carry in my pockets (Elmo undies, sleep caps, dog poop bags, tissue).
A Pocket for Corduroy was my favorite book as a child (so glad I could solve that little mystery for you).
There are times in life when pocket space is at a particular premium, like when I travel. When Paul and I were on our 8-month, round-the-world honeymoon, my pockets were always stuffed. In hot climates I carried a sweat rag. I carried room keys, luggage locks, bits of paper with addresses and locations, translations for cab drivers, bus tickets. The most valuable tool was the compass that Paul carried. We both have a terrible sense of direction. We got very good at reading maps, retracing our steps and communicating with locals in hand gestures and puppetry when all else failed (little games of charades all over the world!). Anyway, where was I?
Yes, parenthood is another one of those times when pocket space is at a premium. There are snacks to carry and sippy cups, barrettes and beads that are pulled out of hair on long car rides. There are little toys, mini monkeys that little girls get from coin machines at diners where their daddies take them. There is lip balm for the chapped-lip types like myself. There are napkins and used bandages and some unstuck stickers in case a certain little girl uses the potty. You get the idea. There’s a lot of stuff to carry but that’s not my point. There’s another point I’m getting to here…
The most valuable pocket tool of all time: the Environmental Working Group’s list of the “dirtiest” and “cleanest” conventionally grown fruits and vegetables. The top of the list contains produce that, even when grown conventionally, doesn’t carry a heavy load of pesticides. The bottom of the list contains the most pesticide-laden fruits and vegetables. You can lower your pesticide intake by 4/5ths if you avoid the conventionally-grown versions of the 12 most contaminated items on this list.
Take a look. Do you see peaches, apples, strawberries and blueberries at the bottom? Berry season is here and the peaches, the peaches are coming. Print it off. You don’t really have to carry it in your pocket but I would recommend carrying it in your purse, or your wallet, or wherever else you carry things because it’s important.
So let’s say there’s this toddler, a sweet little thing with braids held in place with multi-colored flower clips, who walks up to her little friend at preschool, grabs her by the collar and pushes her to the floor. No words are exchanged; there is no fight over a toy, just bam. Smack-down.
Then let’s say, a day later, the mother and daughter make a cake. The toddler is standing on a chair and while they’re holding the beater, this same toddler slips her arm around her mother’s waist, looks up and says “I wuv you Mommy.” Sweet as pie.
Yes, this child is two-and-a-half. Yes, she is a force of nature. Her mother knows these things, but she still can’t help but wonder what causes her sweet child with the braids and flowered clips and all to decide she’s a WWF wrestling super-star. Was she tired? Coming down with the flu? Had she eaten something that didn’t agree with her, had she had too much sugar, too little sugar, too much exercise or not enough exercise, too much time with other toddlers, not enough, too many hunks of cheese, raisins, granola bars or things that stick in her teeth or don’t, she must need more things that stick in her teeth or maybe it’s that new toothpaste with the fluoride or the fact that she isn’t flossing or or or… Picture this mother holding out the ends of her hair going “ACK!” like Andy Samberg playing Cathy from the comic strip on Saturday Night Live. Sweat drops, sweat drops, sweat drops.
Let’s just say this mother is always looking for causes, triggers, patterns, consequences. She knows sometimes she takes the speculation too far, but she also knows what she puts in her child does affect her child’s behavior.
The big health news this week is about a study published in the Journal of Pediatrics that shows kids with above average amounts of organophosphate pesticides in their urine are twice as likely to be diagnosed with ADHD.
“Detectable levels of pesticides are present in a large number of fruits and vegetables sold in the U.S., according to a 2008 report from the U.S. Department of Agriculture cited in the study. In a representative sample of produce tested by the agency, 28 percent of frozen blueberries, 20 percent of celery, and 25 percent of strawberries contained traces of one type of organophosphate. Other types of organophosphates were found in 27 percent of green beans, 17 percent of peaches, and 8 percent of broccoli.”
Another reason to buy organic produce. All this stuff that goes into this mother’s body and this child’s body… It does matter.
Turns out this particular toddler had a virus and two canker sores in the back of her mouth. As far as her mother can tell, her WWF-style take down had nothing to do with organophosphates and everything to do with being miserable. But this mother can never be too sure.
“When I tasted it, that’s when I realized that my mother was dead,” he said. “I realized that I was never going to taste that dish again the way my mother made it. The person who makes the food – his physique, his soul – is unique. It’s like fingerprints, or handwriting.” – Musa Dagdeviren, quoted in “The Memory Kitchen” by Elif Batuman in the New Yorker, April 19, 2010.
The article was about a man (Musa) who is trying to resurrect the food culture of Turkey. I thought about this quote on and off all weekend.
I’ll always remember the taste of my mother’s homemade baguettes, even though I haven’t tasted bread in years. I hope Josie remembers me for my soup – turkey rice, chicken noodle, curried squash, carrot orange, split pea – all made from scratch with homemade stock.
What food will you remember your mother or father for? What food will your children remember you for?
