Toddler Travel Activities You Haven’t Thought Of

By

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July 11, 2015

Our family travels… a lot. I recently tried to count the number of flights my 16-month-old has been on, but I fell asleep before I could get through her first six months. We’ve learned a lot about traveling with a baby, and just as our homes must evolve to accommodate our little ones’ growing needs and expanding capabilities (hello, I can’t leave a knife on the edge of the counter anymore?!), the way we travel with our kids must change too.

After a three-month travel hiatus, we got on a flight to head to a friend’s wedding. To prepare, I did exactly what we’d done before — book an evening flight and pack the Ergo. Hop on the flight, bottle during takeoff, click baby girl into the Ergo, cue sleepy time. This time… no dice. We rocked, we sang, we bounced, and we chatted with the flight attendants in the galley. Still, nothing. When we landed, I Googled “calories burned while bouncing 18-pound baby.” Oddly enough, nothing relevant came up in my search.

I’ve wised up since. We’re flying again this week, and I just packed my sweet girl’s carry-on. Here’s what’s in it:

– Stickers, crayons, paper, and double-sided tape: The first three are no-brainers. Obvious stuff to pack. But the double-sided tape? You can use it to stick the paper to the tray while it’s down or while it’s up, so “please put your trays into the upright and locked position” no longer means a restless toddler! If you want to skip the hassle of FullSizeRender-2 taping paper while a toddler is on your lap, go for the Post-it brand paper. But since that costs more than everything in this bag combined, we stick with the t FullSizeRender-3 ape.

– Pom-pom push: This is the only DIY gig of the bunch. Quick tutorial: I got a few leftover containers from the dollar store, poked holes in one lid (first with a screw, then a screwdriver, then a larger screwdriver), then took it outside with a lighter and made the holes the size I wanted. Then, I used one container to hold everything, stacked it with an empty container, and put the lid on. This way, you have one to keep all the goodies contained while your little one pushes them through the holes of the lid and into another container. I purchased pipe cleaners and two different sizes of pom-poms from our local craft store. This airplane time-killer offers the bonus benefit of improving fine-motor and problem-solving skills.

– Beads: Giant beads from the craft store plus pipe cleaners equals bead-stringing fun. Threading beads onto string is a great, focused activity, but it can be more frustrating than it’s worth for the under-two crowd. Pipe cleaners alleviate the need for a toddler to focus on holding the string in the right way and getting the bead onto it. (Tip: Fold the pipe cleaners to fit them in the bag, and the extra container from the pom-pom push can be used to hold the beads.)

– Feathers: For toddlers, there is something magical about blowing a feather off of your hand. I don’t know what it is, but I will take advantage of it for as long as possible on an airplane.

– Books: Old Trusty right here. I always know this is going to entertain my daughter — sometimes for 30 seconds, sometimes for three hours (OK, three minutes… but that’s three hours in toddler time).

– Walking the aisle: When in doubt — and the seatbelt sign is off — put that little one down and let ’em walk. I hate being the person on the plane who lets my kid roam, but she loves to move and she loves people! Saying “hewwo!” to everyone on the plane is way more exciting than any toy or activity I could ever buy or create!

– A new toy: I am not a fan of buying my daughter new stuff for no reason, but I consider a flight a really good reason. I want her to be entertained for as long as possible with as little as possible, and a new toy typically does the trick.

What activities do your toddlers love when they fly?

Parenting Perspectives: Choosing an Epidural

By

Katrina McCarty

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July 10, 2015

Motherhood comes with a host of choices about what is best for you, your family, and your children. We at Boston Moms Blog are a diverse group of moms who want to embrace these choices instead of feeling guilty or judged for them! We are starting our “Parenting Perspectives” series with a look at the heated topic of birth and birth plans. Two or more of our contributors will share their experiences of choosing their particular birth plan.

For the record, I hate needles. I know no one likes them. One of my close friends has to use them constantly for chronic health issues, and I admire her greatly — and I know “have to” and “choose to” are very different. I get incredibly anxious. I can’t give blood because I pass out. I’ve often needed anxiety medication for the dozen-plus dental surgeries I’ve had, because dentists use enormous needles and are right in your face. In fact, the worst part of the prenatal visits for me were the lengthy blood draws and having to explain my anxiety to phlebotomists who have probably seen worse.

Still, my epidural was highly premeditated. I didn’t try to convince myself otherwise, and I’ve never felt guilty about making an informed medical choice that was right for me and my health. I did have to constantly psych myself up to tolerate it, though. I had known I would want the epidural since 2004 — long before I had my daughter in 2011. I knew that far back because my health history (see my birth story) made it hard for me to imagine or choose otherwise. I knew my lingering fog of health anxiety would be high during labor and that adding pain to the equation would make for an experience and memory I didn’t want. I hate needles, but my health anxiety trumped it — hard core. My mountain was anxiety, the epidural a tool to crest it.

And it sucked. I hated it. I knew the anesthesiologist had a big needle. There was what felt like a small crowd in the room (medical students), and I had to remain perfectly still. Yup, I’m in medication-induced labor, I’m anxious, you want to stick a large needle in my spine, AND I have to not flinch — very, very hard. It wasn’t glorious and rainbows. Shortly after the epidural was placed my blood pressure went AWOL, and it initially only worked on one side of my body. I panicked. I got sick to my stomach. An empathetic and attentive nurse offered me anxiety medication — another complicated choice, but I took it. Finally, the epidural WAS glorious. Without a lot of pain, I felt my daughter being born. I knew when to push, and it wasn’t a total fog (of anxiety or drugs).

Some moms choose the medication. Some don’t. Some moms shout from the mountains how awesome it felt to give birth without medication because that is how nature intended it. Great — let them roar. Some rave about the glory of medication and how it freed them. Great — let them roar. Some are blessed with uncomplicated births, and some are not. It doesn’t make one better or worse, it just makes us all real.

Mine wasn’t a perfect choice or a perfect experience — but really, nothing ever is. And while I’m not planning another birth, if I eventually do I will choose another epidural. It’s my choice — my informed and right-for-me-and-my-health choice. No guilt. No regret.

Climb the mountain however you can.

Parenting Perspectives: Choosing a C-Section

Parenting Perspectives: Choosing Minimal Interventions During Childbirth

Parenting Perspectives: An Ode to My Midwife

My Minivan Is Sexy and I Know It :: Confessions of a Minivan Mom

By

Heather Y

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July 9, 2015

When my husband and I were expecting our second child, we pulled what I like to call the “mommy trifecta.” We left our city apartment for the ‘burbs, I turned 30, and we purchased a minivan.

Yes, I purchased a minivan. I am a minivan mom!

My mom always drove one when we were kids, and I thought I was too cool for it. But after driving our oversized luxury SUV, which got 13 miles to the premium gallon and could barely fit a double stroller in the trunk, I decided we needed to make some changes.

We went to dealerships and test drove plenty of cars… and I kept going back to the minivan.

Why?

It’s made for families. Opening both sliding doors with the push of a button? Genius! When kids are screaming and you’re dropping groceries, that sliding door can be life changing. Minivans also lower to the ground than most SUVs, so my 4-year-old is able to get himself in and out safely — which he loves.

My favorite comment from other moms: “You drive a minivan? But it’s such a mom car!” Well, they’re right. It is. But guess what? Their Pilots and Acadias and Highlanders aren’t exactly screaming “single and getting crazy at the club this weekend.” Those SUVs simply say that their ability to mow down the speedbumps at Market Basket is more important than a little extra cabin space. And know what? I am a mom. I don’t mind driving something that acknowledges that!

It was no coincidence that this weekend, when it came time to tailgate at a concert, my extended family begged us to drive the “party wagon” (doesn’t every car need a good nickname?). It can fit eight people comfortably, no knees up to your chin, with plenty of space in the trunk for coolers and soccer-mom chairs. It even has 15 cup holders, so the minivan moms can chase their afternoon cup of joe with some Gatorade. Booya!

One of my favorite selling points? The TV/DVD player. (Disclaimer: I allow my kids to watch TV… sometimes.) My minivan has a 19″ screen that can play two different movies at the same time, so the kids can watch what they want and it won’t turn into WWIII in my back seat. That’s a mom win right there.

But the real reason I love my minivan is because it works for us. I can comfortably fit the double jogger, cooler, and all of our beach gear in there on a hot summer day. I can tuck skis and winter gear away while avoiding the unfortunate game of suitcase Jenga in the backseat. And my party wagon gets 29 miles to the 87-octane gallon… and I can turn on my seat heaters to keep all my saved gas money warm in my pocket.

So, I’m here to tell you — as a proud minivan mom — that life not only goes on after minivan, it goes on a lot more comfortably.

Letting Go of ‘Natural’ :: A Complicated Journey to Motherhood

By

Cora

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July 8, 2015

In my journey to motherhood, I first had to let go of the ideal of getting pregnant “naturally” through a beautiful and romantic interaction with the love of my life. You marry another woman, that’s part of the deal.

Doing IUI was no fun, but it worked the very first time. I got to carry our baby in my own body, and then I powered through the cracked and bleeding nipples, the bad latch, the not gaining his birthweight back. Finally, we had a toddler who could nurse upside down while playing.

I used my body to create and sustain this perfect baby who grew and grew. I believed, intellectually, that all ways of creating families and feeding babies were valid. But secretly, I drank the Kool-Aid. I was She-Ra, Princess of Power, creating the next generation with my all-powerful body.

When our son was a year and a half old, we started trying again. The doctors had told me to expect it to take multiple tries, but I knew my childbearing hips obviously meant my body was designed to make babies. This would be a breeze.

We proceeded to go through IUI, IVF, and multiple miscarriages. My emotions and my body were a wreck. Because of all the chemicals I was pouring into my body, I had gained 20 pounds, my pelvis separated twice, I was been depressed and angry, and we had blown through our savings. My marriage was rocky, and after being on and off bed rest and with such low energy, I was having trouble being the kind of mom I wanted to be.

Luckily, Boston has the best healthcare in the country. I HAD to keep going, because eventually I’d get pregnant and carry a baby to term and be able to nurse and it would all be worth it. Finally, my primary care physician sat me down and said I couldn’t keep doing this to my body. If I did get pregnant, I’d probably be on bed rest most of the pregnancy, pumped full of hormones, joints askew, and unable to take care of the child we do have. There would be long-term effects on my body.

I grieved hard. Letting go of the idea of being She-Ra was devastating. I felt defective. How could I not do the most “natural” thing in the world? Teenagers who don’t even want babies can do this. How was I not able to execute this most basic of human functions?

We began thinking about adoption and filled out paperwork with the Massachusetts Department of Children and Families. We both knew we could love an adopted child as much as one we conceived “naturally.” Before we got married, we had agreed to have one biological child and then adopt the second. I’m an elementary school teacher, and many times I’d wished I could adopt my students who were abused and neglected. My wife is from Sri Lanka and had always understood how many children there were who needed homes. Then our son turned out to be so amazingly wonderful, and it had been so easy to conceive, that we threw that plan out the window. I loved the IDEA of adopting, but I just couldn’t let go of my experience of making and feeding a baby “naturally.”

My heart was broken, and I couldn’t imagine it would ever heal.

Amazingly, though, it has. Our son will turn 4 this summer and is over the moon about the baby brother or sister we will adopt, as are my wife and I. Unlike the fertility treatments, this has a guaranteed positive outcome. We don’t know the timeline, the sex, ethnicity, or personality of our baby yet, but eventually, we will be a family of four. It’s been a brutal process letting go of “natural,” but I’m finally here. I can bottle feed our adopted baby, and still be She-Ra.

DIY: Upcycling Your Jars

By

hinakaleem

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July 7, 2015

Whenever I watch a cooking or home improvement show on TV, I imagine myself being able to effortlessly mimic their results. Of course, I never follow through. So I recently promised myself I would attempt each project I like, one by one, no matter how long it takes. This project was one such thing on my to-DIY list.

I love browsing Pinterest — it’s the best resource out there for discovering ideas. It’s simple to use, and you can find anything and everything on it. You can create different “boards” to organize your finds, from food to DIY to travel, kids, fashion, and more.

I’ve pinned probably hundreds of links for home improvement, but I’ve only tried a handful (thinking one day I’ll have time to go through the entire section and do something useful with it!). This week, the day finally came to try my long-awaited upcyclying jars project.

Items Required:

3M chalkboard tape

Chalk

Scissors

Empty jars (any kind you have — I used plastic couscous containers)

Take the jar you want to work with. Cut the chalk tape in a shape that will cover the labels on the jar. I cut the tape in an almost-rectangular shape, with the top end tapered and forming an arch (I cut this particular shape to hide the existing label on the jar). I placed two pieces of the tape side by side (as shown in the photo below) to cover the existing label. You can cut any shape you like. Another option is to remove the original label, which is especially easy on a glass jar. The final cut tape is shown below.

Two pieces of chalkboard tape put together

Once the desired shape is cut and ready to use, take the peel off the sticky side of the tape, paste it over the jar, and voila! You’re done. Here are my jars, with their lovely ready-to-use labels.

Once you’ve filled the jars (with lentils and beans in this case), use any colored chalk to write on the chalk tape. These jar are sitting pretty in my pantry now. Hope you will try this very simple DIY!

Have you tried any Pinterest projects recently? How did they turn out? Leave a comment below — I’d love to hear about it!

Sometimes, Being a Working Mom Just Plain Sucks!

By

Rebecca Couture

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July 5, 2015

I am a working mom and, by nature, an optimist. If you know me, you know that I try to put a positive spin on everything. Fortunately, this has helped me through some difficult times. But I will admit that I have days where being a working mom sucks!

I love my work. I’ve been in the same career since I left college, and it’s made me very happy. I have had wonderful mentors and co-workers, and I’ve learned a lot over the years. I’ve worked late nights, weekends, and holidays, and for these reasons the thought of giving up on my career is a little painful. Now, after kids, I have slowed down a bit but still keep a three-day-per-week schedule. It’s truly a luxury to get out into the adult world for a few days and still have several days with my little boys.

But, sometimes it just plain sucks!

While I typically feel empowered by my position as a career mom, this week has me feeling like a bit of a failure. This week I hit a wall. I’ve been powering through for such a long time that all the stress finally caught up with me. Deep down, I know the balance of motherhood and career is what suits my personality best, but recently it felt like my run of positivity was coming to an end. Indulge me for a moment while I have a much needed/deserved mommy tantrum! Here are my reasons why it can really suck to be a working mom!

It feels like you’re always letting someone down.

There are days where I can’t stay late enough to feel like I’ve met each and every last goal of my work day, but I can’t quite make it home early enough for bath time. It’s common to be thinking about work when I’m at home and thinking about home when I’m at work. Ugh, #momfail!

Working can be a nice break, but saying goodbye can be tough!

I generally leave before my family is even awake, and, frankly, on some days it’s the only way I can walk out the door. On the rare occasion that I’m able to get the kids up and throw some Cheerios at them, I start my day with the dreaded “mom” guilt.

Daycare is expensive!

My boys are quite social and have learned so much from their childcare experiences, but sometimes it feels as though I pay just to work.

Oh crap, my kid is sick.

I loathe having to make the “my kid is sick and I can’t come to work today” call. Often it’s a “whose day is the least worst” battle between my husband and me. I hate leaving my babies if they aren’t feeling well, and I hate feeling as though I am leaving all the work to someone else. Oh yeah, and forget about calling in sick when I’m actually sick — I’ve already used that time up.

I look forward to big hugs and smiles at the end of my day, but the kids aren’t always happy to see me.

Kids have bad days too, and there’s nothing worse than coming home to a tantrum or to hear, “I don’t want to go home!” at pick up!

There are never enough hours in the day!

I’m behind on laundry, housecleaning, and putting winter clothes away, and when was the last time I got a haircut???

Sometimes I just don’t wanna go!

I want to stay in my PJs and watch cartoons and make pancakes. I want to take the kids to the park or on an adventure, not get up at the crack of dawn and drag myself to the train.

Despite everything, I truly do enjoy what I do. My work allows me to help people and to help provide for my family. To all the working moms out there who’ve had a hard week, who wonder, “why am I doing this?” you are doing an amazing job! Don’t forget to take some time out to yell, scream, cry, laugh, have a big glass of wine, and let it all out. You’ll feel refreshed and ready to take on the world again.

What is your least favorite part of being a working mom???

Welcome to the Social Jungle: Can I Hide in the Sand Please?

By

Katrina McCarty

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July 3, 2015

We recently got a story for my daughter called “Giraffes Can’t Dance.” Gerald the Giraffe loves music, but at the big jungle dance he just feels awkward and doesn’t fit in. He meanders off sadly to find space to himself and meets a friendly cricket. The wise cricket tells him that everyone can dance — if they find the right music. That basically sums up my feelings about the parent social jungle (actually any social jungle) and having to get out there in it. Welcome to the jungle… it’s not all fun and games when you’d rather hide in the sand.

It’s hard to admit that for the first three months after my daughter was born I basically hid at home. I joined an online mom meetup and attempted attending a new moms support group, but none of it felt right to me — forced and social when I was tired and emotional. I wanted friends who were also stressed about naps or dealing with painful breastfeeding, but I couldn’t get over my angst about having to get out there and meet them. I don’t make friends or build connections easily. Finding my music is hard. I frequently require time and space to recharge free of most other people. This makes it incredibly difficult to put myself out there… in the jungle.

I went back to work part-time and started taking my daughter to classes (music, dance, gym, swim — rinse and repeat) on our home days. I often felt awkward. It always seemed like there were others who already knew each other, and as I straddled the working/at home universes it just made it harder to precisely relate to other moms. On top of the logistics and energy required just getting to events (we all know getting kids out the door is a gauntlet), it’s hard for me to mix and mingle. It’s one thing at adult events to hang about at the edges or only talk to one other person. It feels different when it’s a preschool birthday party or toddler mommy and me class. Welcome to the jungle. A jungle isn’t my natural habitat.

Not loving the jungle isn’t the same as not liking people or being anti-social. I love talking and can be surprisingly chatty if I know and trust you — (it’s ironic at times that my elementary school report cards said I disrupted class for talking too much). I often initiate outings because I very much want to enjoy the company of good friends (but, admittedly, I sometimes want to cancel them and read a book). I simply prefer the company of a few I know instead of many that I don’t. I want my daughter to have friends, to make and keep them — whether she has a few deep connections or a sea of them. Yet, I have anxiety over how to model being social in groups when it’s not my natural habitat.

It’s hard. It’s a jungle, and sometimes I just want to meander away like Gerald the Giraffe. Then my almost-4-year-old tells me she can’t wait to go to school to see her best friend, or she sidles up to a random kid at the park to happily discuss a shared love of trains or dig together. She’s my wise cricket. So, a lesson from a child: Welcome to the jungle — try to enjoy the fun and games, even if it means you need a week to recover afterward.

The Truth About Labor Pains :: Why Recovery After Childbirth Matters

By

Lindsey Galvao

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July 2, 2015

I recently went to buy baby gifts for a dear friend who is due with her first baby. While I wistfully passed by rows of cute baby blankets, clothes, and toys, I restrained myself to get the good stuff instead — witch hazel, stool softener, nursing pads, mother’s tea, and “The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding.”

While checking out at the store, the kind pharmacist and I compared labor and recovery stories and did what is generally considered unthinkable: We talked about how awful it is to recover from childbirth.

When I was pregnant with my daughter, I read as much as possible about the birthing process. Creating a birth plan was the highlight of every baby website and book I could get my hands on. I paid a nurse for a private birthing class. I read horror stories about epidurals and swore I would never get one (I did). I thought I had prepared myself as much as humanly possible to make it through labor.

And I did make it through labor! But what no one told me was that the recovery would be far worse than labor and much, much longer than labor itself. Labor is the “easy” part. The baby is going to come out one way or another. And at the end, you get a beautiful, wrinkly newborn who will melt your heart.

And your body will feel like it’s been destroyed. Recovery from childbirth will take weeks. I say, bring on the labor. It’s the post-labor that I dread. There are so many things I wish I had known about what happens after childbirth — here’s the wisdom I want to now pass on to others!

1. Take EVERYTHING offered at the hospital.

The hospital is a treasure trove for new mothers — swaddling blankets, diapers, granny underwear, and peri spray bottles. You know what happens if you leave all that loot in your room at the hospital? They throw it away. These are items that really come in handy those first few days at home, so make sure you save some room in your hospital bag to pack them up with you.

2. Take care of those lady parts!

Whether you have minimal tearing or an episiotomy, you are going to hurt. A lot. Have some ice packs to soothe your bottom. You will be sore, and as with any sore muscle, ice helps. Or try making your own “padsicles” to help the healing process along.

If you’re strapped for time and energy, get a perineal squeeze bottle and some witch hazel, mix equal parts witch hazel and water, and splash it on your perineum a few times a day until you start to feel better.

Invest in a stool softener for post-labor recovery. While I was waiting for a prenatal appointment, a very kind woman and I started talking about childbirth. She leaned over, whispered in my ear, “You should buy some stool softener for after birth.” My eyes widened. Stranger, thank you for this secretive tidbit. No one had ever, ever told me that having a bowel movement after labor would hurt so much. Buy the stool softener.

3. Rest as much as possible!

You need time to heal, and while it might feel impossible to rest, now is not the time to start exercising again or worry about whether your house is clean. It will take weeks for your body to recover from birth, and you need to give yourself as much time as possible to recuperate. Sleep helps.

4. Know that you will be a hormonal mess by day and by night.

I would gaze at my daughter’s angelic face and burst into tears. I had the most vivid nightmares ever. I sweat each night like crazy. No one ever told me this rush of hormones was part of recovery after childbirth. You will feel all sorts of emotions you never thought were possible, and it’s unsettling and overwhelming. But after about six weeks, everything should begin to normalize again.

5. Remember that breastfeeding is not always intuitive.

A lot of articles I read said that after about three weeks, breastfeeding would become natural and easy. For me, that just wasn’t true. It took me about three months to feel like I had a handle on breastfeeding, and that was after lactation hospital meetings, switching pediatricians, joining La Leche League, and crying on the phone multiple times to my midwives and LLL leaders.

While breastfeeding is natural, it certainly isn’t easy. Without the support system I created, I most certainly would have stopped — and I fully understand why a lot of women do. I always advise new mothers to seek out help (preferably for free) and to ask for a prescription for APNO cream, a compounded medication to soothe sore and bloody nipples. But, if nothing else, remember to find other mothers to help you through the process; it makes a huge difference.

6. Ask for help!

Your body went through a very traumatic experience. Now is not the time to be superwoman. Make a rule that no one is allowed to visit unless they have a meal or a broom in their hands. Pass off your beautiful offspring to visitors and excuse yourself to take a nap. Ask someone to do your laundry. Have a relative or friend stay with the baby so you can take a shower/bath or go for a walk. Order essential items online. Ask friends to create a meal train instead of purchasing gifts for the baby.

American culture has nonsensical, irrational, and unreasonable expectations of postpartum mothers. Don’t get swept up in that. Be kind to yourself, remember just how much recovery after childbirth matters, and advocate for your needs.

And if you find yourself experiencing any signs of postpartum depression, seek medical attention immediately. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness; it’s being a smart new mama.

Healthy Kids: Avoiding Artificial Ingredients

By

Katy

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July 1, 2015

Healthy kids: avoiding artificial ingredients

Trying to feed our kids healthy foods is a conversation that never seems to end — in my family, with our pediatrician, with our friends. I have found myself having many, many conversations through the years about ensuring my kids are eating the right amount, the right kinds of foods, and a sufficient mix of foods. At the same time, the public conversation about health, fitness, and nutrition is here to stay, giving families countless resources for raising healthy kids.

While I try to strike a balance for my kids between allowing indulgences at special events like birthday parties and regular days where we avoid unhealthy treats, I have an increasing awareness of the prevalence of artificial ingredients in many foods I previously thought of as healthy. So this begs the question: Are artificial ingredients “unhealthy?” What are they, and should I be concerned?

When I was pregnant, I was hyper aware of what I was eating, in hopes of giving my growing babies the best start possible, and that continued as I nursed my kids and began to cook their meals. Now I strive constantly to give my kids healthy and fresh, unprocessed foods, but I certainly rely on many processed foods, such as bread, cereal, crackers, and many dairy products to form meals and snacks each day. Throughout this journey, I’ve learned to pay attention to the presence of artificial ingredients in the foods my family eats.

Artificial colors and flavors have profound impacts on health and wellness. Derived from petroleum and other chemicals, these ingredients are largely banned outside the US but widely used here in all kinds of foods, especially those marketed toward kids, such as candies, drinks, and other processed foods. There are some obvious culprits — think soda and candy — but I have learned that many healthy-seeming foods contain artificial colors, flavors, and preservatives that are anything but food.

While anyone can probably guess that the lurid red of candy, the neon orange of certain crunchy cheese snacks, and the green in gelatin comes from chemicals, artificial ingredients lurk in even innocuous-seeming foods like yogurt, cereal bars, and even fresh oranges. Here are some ways to keep these ingredients out of your diet:

Make it yourself! While you may have a few bottles of food coloring rolling around in the depths of the cupboard for dyeing eggs or frosting, it’s likely that most of the ingredients you regularly use for making homemade meals and treats are innocuous.
Educate yourself and your family, and read all ingredients. The FDA doesn’t require orange growers to label their fruit as dyed, but most processed foods reveal artificial ingredients right on the package.
Ask your pediatrician about chemical sensitivity to these foods, which has been linked to a range of behavioral and other health issues in kids.
Buy organic! Any product sold in the US labeled as organic cannot contain any artificial ingredients.
Shop smart. Most grocery stores now have entire sections dedicated to natural and organic foods. Whole Foods Market has a policy banning all artificial ingredients from anything sold at their stores.

As we approach summer and the season of cookouts, warm weather treats, and especially vacations, our routines change and our eating does too. Eat well, and stay healthy!

Raising Girls: Clothes and Self Respect

By

Amy Deutsch

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June 29, 2015

My daughter is about to turn 6. She loves My Little Pony, going to Red Sox games, having mommy paint her nails with sparkles, playing in splash pads, yoga, and dresses that spin. It’s a delicious age of growing up and independence but still wanting to cuddle and talk and connect with her parents at the end of the day. I’m loving almost-6. At almost-6, raising a girl is a dream.

But I’m a bit worried about what’s to come. The other day, as I was driving through Boston with the windows down, I saw two college students walking by and heard snippets of their conversation. They were talking about how they had to pack up their stuff for the summer — some of it would stay in Boston in storage, some would be sent back home, and some would go with them on their adventures in Europe over the summer. I thought back to what my life was like when I was 19 and making the same decisions. And then I looked at the girls again. And I noticed something that I found kind of appalling: butt bottom.

I don’t know if butt bottom is a thing. I’ve decided to declare it such. It’s exactly what you think it is: when girls wear shorts that are so incredibly short you can see the bottom part of their butt, not just the upper part of their legs. Is butt bottom the new side boob? Is this the new fashion for teenage and college-age girls?

I really f*&$ing hope not. Because I’m raising a daughter. And I want to teach her to respect her body and to keep it healthy and strong. I want her to know she’s beautiful and to feel confident in her skin. I want her to have a fully developed sense of self-respect, which includes not walking down the streets of Boston half-naked. Having your butt hang out of your shorts does not show others that you respect your body. You might respect fashion trends, but that’s not self-respect. Certain parts of your body are not supposed to be shown all of the time. Like — just as an example —your butt. Wearing a swimsuit on the beach is a perfectly acceptable time for a little bit of butt bottom to be shown. I’m fine with that. But Commonwealth Avenue is not where you flaunt that.

Me? I grew up in the age of grunge. We wore baggy jeans with huge rips in them that we wrote on in Sharpie. We wore T-shirts that were too big for us, with giant flannel shirts over them. It was easy to get dressed in the morning — which T-shirt, flannel, and jeans combination would you wear that day? Looking back at my photos in high school and college, I usually wore clothes that were too big for me because that’s what was in. I didn’t have to contend with butt bottom or side boob or even a miniskirt, really. It was awesome.

I’m really hoping grunge will make a full resurgence in about five years when my daughter is 11 and starts to really go shopping and choose her own clothes. How much easier will life be as a mom if I don’t even have to start explaining why butt bottom shows a lack of self-respect?

But that’s the thing. Being a mom so often means taking the hard road: setting strict rules and following through, even when your kid is yelling and screaming about how you’ve ruined her life. In the long run, however, those strict rules and their consequences teach kids life lessons. Whatever the fashion is as my daughter grows up, I’m hopeful that the values and morals I’ve tried to teach her will help her make the right decisions about what she wears and how she portrays herself to the world.

Or maybe grunge will come back. Hey, a mom can dream, right?

The SCOTUS Decision: What It Means to This Mama

By

Cora

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June 28, 2015

As I sat in a suburban Chinese restaurant on the day the U.S. Supreme Court legalized gay marriage, I struggled to explain to our 3-year-old son why we were celebrating. I told him that very important judges (people who help settle arguments) made a big decision that people like Mommy and Mama could get married anywhere in the country. I explained that some people didn’t think two women or two men should be able to get married but that this decision meant they could.

Our son was baffled. He has lived his whole life here in Massachusetts, where he has been surrounded by plenty of other families with two dads or two moms. At his nursery school, his teachers go out of their way to read books about all different kinds of families, including ones like ours. He knows people get married when they love each other and want to be together forever as a family. How could this be a big deal?

His bafflement thrilled me. Ten years ago, when I realized I wanted to marry a woman, Massachusetts was still the only state in the country to allow gay marriage. When we bought a house, our criteria was that our family would not be the only one with same-sex parents in the neighborhood and at school, which limited our search quite a bit. Just five years ago, as my wife and I were planning our wedding, we looked at gorgeous venues in Rhode Island and Maine, but our wedding in those states would not have been legal. Instead, we got married right here in Massachusetts, where gay marriage began. Our ceremony was wonderful, filled with 175 friends and family. When I went back to my first grade classroom with a wedding ring and a new last name, I mostly found excitement and support, but I still faced opposition from parents who were worried their kids would be influenced by my lifestyle.

Having a child brought new challenges. On a practical level, the patchwork of same-sex marriage states has meant that our travel has been limited. We feared traveling to states where our marriage wasn’t recognized, in case something happened to us. We have heard countless stories of a spouse not being able to be in the hospital room with an injured child or partner because they weren’t considered “family.”

However, the changing culture around gay families and gay marriage has allowed our son to be blissfully ignorant. He knows that lots of kids have a mom and a dad, but it’s clear that he feels lucky to have two moms. Outside the house, he never hesitates to correct people who refer to me as his mommy. “That’s MAMA, not Mommy,” he says loudly. “I have a Mommy, but she’s not here.” Most of the time, people smile. Some look confused, and a few look disapproving. This momentous decision means disapproval is no longer officially sanctioned. From Alaska to Florida, we are now recognized as a family.

Now, when I talk to my son about marriage equality, it will be past tense. It USED to be that people like Mama and Mommy and many of his friends’ parents couldn’t get married, even though they loved each other very much. Now, the whole country is our playground. We are a family because we love each other, and because the Supreme Court says so.

How We Love Our Books and Libraries

By

hinakaleem

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June 27, 2015

Reading has been one of my favorite hobbies for as long as I can remember. Sadly, since having a child of my own I have not been able to finish a single book. However, thanks to the internet available on every mobile device, I do read the trending articles whenever I get a chance.

I have a 19-month-old son, Zain, born in November 2013. I started to read books to him as part of his bedtime routine when he was 2 months old and transitioning from the bassinet in our room to the crib in the nursery. Every night before I put him down to sleep, we read a book. Initially, we stuck to a couple of classics so he would start to recognize them. The first two books we introduced were “Peek-a-Boo Jungle” by Francesca Ferri and the ever popular “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” by Eric Carle. Very quickly, these two became his favorites. Little did I know that very soon he would be obsessed with reading books.

Living in New England, you want to spend the summer outdoors as much as you can. It wasn’t until September last year, when he was almost 10 months old and walking, that I started taking him to the library for story and play time. It was like a whole new world opened up for him. He loved seeing all the new books, some of which went home with us for a few weeks. I started to build a small book collection for him at home, too, so he had some of his favorite books at all times. He was always very excited to go to the library, and thus it became a ritual for us a couple times a week.

We live in Peabody, which is part of the North Shore area. Of the three libraries in Peabody, we usually go to the Peabody Institute Library on Main Street. We love the main library because it is huge and has the lovely Sutton Room where all the special music concerts take place. Their children’s section is also pretty big. The only thing lacking there is a weekly toddler story time that is geared for kids under the age of 2. The best toddler-friendly program in the towns around us is at the Peabody Institute Library of Danvers. We loved going there all through the winter. They have an hour-long program a couple times a week — story time is followed by music and dance, with a take-home craft to round it out. I have friends in Melrose and Wakefield and have attended story times at both those towns’ libraries. Those are really great for younger kids and were very enjoyable for my son.

Now that summer is here, we still stop by the library on our way to other activities to grab some books. Zain has learned so many words from all these books. He keeps himself busy with them while this mommy cooks and cleans. Now that he is older, he definitely has preferences on what books he wants to get, and we have to oblige his request to read the books over and over, all day long. I feel so happy that my son shares my love of reading. I hope this develops into a lifelong interest.