If you saw my blog last week, “Food for Thought,” you know that we recently switched over to organic milk. But the other day, I was looking at the expiration date and noticed that organic milk is good for much longer than non-organic milk. The milk is “ultra-pasteurized” which gives it a longer shelf-life but also takes out much of the nutrients. So that leads me to the question — which is better for kids, milk pumped full of hormones or milk devoid of much of it’s nutrients? It seems that neither is a win win situation. What’s a mom to do if she can’t actually buy a cow and keep it in the backyard for milking?
And here’s another thing about organic milk (aside from the fact that it is twice as expensive as it’s hormone pumped counterpart), it’s not packaged in a recyclable container. What’s up with that?

Every parent secretly wants their child to shine.
The other day, I got a call from my 10-year-old’s writing teacher at school. They are holding a writer’s festival this week and he wanted to make sure we could make it. He said my daughter was one of the best writers in the class. My heart swelled with pride.
Imagine what it would feel like if your child really excelled — like was one of the finalists on “American Idol.” Can you even imagine how that would feel? Now you don’t have to thanks to momlogic.com. They posted interviews last week with the mothers of Idol finalists’ Kris Allen and Adam Lambert. It’s neat to get a glimpse into what the moms were thinking and feeling as their sons progressed into stardom, and how they felt when it was announced that underdog, Kris, beat the judge’s favorite, Adam, for this year’s title. Check out their comments here and here.
Most of us will never see our kids reach this kind of stardom, but there will always be moments when we fill with pride.
Last week Lilly actually caught the ball after a draw in her lacrosse game. I found myself glancing around to make sure everyone else saw it too. I was so proud.

My Wednesday guest blogger is my co-editor, Cheryl Clemens:

I guess common sense has not prevailed on this topic because our government has made it official and requested that Americans not pee in public swimming pools this summer.

That’s right, the Water Quality and Health Council conducted a study this spring and discovered that 17 percent of adults surveyed admit to peeing in the pool during the summer.

Ever spent the afternoon swimming, only to go home with a cough or red, puffy, stinging eyes? Most people chalk it up to the chlorine in the pool, but the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) says it’s more likely a reaction to urine in the water.

But urine isn’t the only thing contaminating pool water. The study found that 11 percent of those surveyed admitted to swimming while they had a runny nose, 7 percent had an exposed rash or cut and 1 percent when ill with diarrhea.

And if you think chlorine kills bacteria and other nasties in pool water, you’re wrong. Cryptosporidium, a parasite that causes watery diarrhea, is resistant to chlorine and is now the most common cause of waterborne illness. And it only takes a small amount of the parasite in the water to make a person ill. That’s why pools ask that you shower before getting in the water - not because you’re dirty, but to remove any traces of feces that may be on your body.

So please, share this information with your kids, encourage them to take frequent bathroom breaks and set a good example yourself this summer.

(My thanks to CNN for some of the details in this blog.)

I was talking to a friend the other day about how to motivate kids to continue an activity and when to let them quit.
My friend’s oldest daughter, 10, is willing to try just about anything but after a year or two — she’s usually done. This happens just as she’s on the cusp of finally mastering the sport. If my friend pushes her to continue, she complains about going and shows no interest in the activity while there. So far they’ve tried soccer, basketball, lacrosse, swimming, gymnastics and tennis.
My younger daughter is similar. After a season of winter swimming, she wanted to call it quits. I had a couple of  issues with this. First, she is pretty good and has a lot of promise. Second, her twin brother wants to continue but only if she will do it with him. And last, it was the perfect thing for both of them in the dead of winter when energy was running high. Swimming a couple of evenings a week gave them the chance to get their itchies out, they had fun and slept great after.
Though maybe it’s a bit harsh of me, I wasn’t inclined to let her quit. She’s the pleaser in the family, so it wasn’t hard to find a little motivation for her to agree to continue. The same was true for a second year of lacrosse — which she wasn’t sure she wanted to pursue. I told her she should really give it another year and she acquiesced.
So my question is, how much do we as parents push and how much is too much? If it appears to be a healthy choice, is it ok to push them to continue? And what if they just give up on everything right when they are starting to learn? What’s the best way to encourage them to continue?

I’m sure many of you have seen the Mom Song to the tune of “The William Tell Overture.” I think I saw it for the first time maybe a year ago, and then I stumbled upon a different version recently — this time with subtitles. I love it. Not only do the words perfectly describe motherhood but the frantic tempo of the music nails the tone of my everyday life to a tee. If you’ve never seen it before, check it out. Even if you’ve seen if multiple times, it’s worth another look. It will put a smile on your weary face and give you the energy you need to get through the day. Check it out here.

I started reading a book the other day that has seriously impacted my life, and I’m only on chapter 3.
The book is “Animal, Vegetable, Miracle” by Barbara Kingsolver. I bought it last Wednesday for a book club discussion on Friday. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t finished the book in time for the discussion, because there’s plenty to talk about after just the first few pages.
The book is Kingsolver’s nonfiction account of the year she and her family decided to only eat local, in season foods. She begins the book by talking about the food industry in our nation — the single crop farms that grow only corn and soybeans to be added into just about everything, the synthetic fertilizers, pesticides, genetic modification and a conversion of farming from naturally based to a highly mechanized production system.
Kingsolver says that U.S. farmers now produce 3,900 calories per U.S. citizen, per day — twice what we need and 700 calories a day more than they grew in 1980. On top of that, 85 cents of every food dollar we pay goes to the processors, marketers and transporters — not the farmers. Her point is that the land will not be able to sustain this, and the farmers can’t afford to keep it up either.
So Monday, I started digging up a small section of our yard for a vegetable garden — something I’ve avoided doing for years. (I’m not really a gardener). Yesterday, I planted tomatoes, beans, peas, cucumbers, zucchini, peppers and melon. Jonah helped me, and I’m hoping in having a hand it the effort — he may actually end up eating a vegetable or two. (If the squirrels don’t eat them all first).
I also had my husband buy organic milk the other day at — gasp — double the price that we usually pay for milk. My neighbor buys organic, and I’ve always thought she was nuts. But then I started reading the book. I know now that that more of the cost will go to the farmer and, hopefully, less additives and hormones will go into my children.
And today, I’m going to go to our local farmer’s market for the first time ever. I’m actually kind of excited.
I’m hoping my small efforts will make a difference. It won’t change the planet or send a big message but, according to Kingsolver, I’m joining what could be called a movement toward a genuine food culture — where there is an affinity between people and the land that feeds them.

My friend has a daughter with Cystic Fibrosis. She turns 11 this week.
Whenever I start stressing about a cold or a fever or a virus that one of my kids comes down with — I try to think of my friend and her daughter, Therese.
Therese was diagnosed when she was 3 months old. This past year, she’s been hospitalized several times because of fluid in her lungs, and she’s struggled with pain in her legs that can make it hard to walk. It’s probably been one of her worst years, and yet Therese is one of the most smiley, chatty, helpful kids I know.
Last weekend, my family joined Therese and her family (she’s one of five) on a walk for Cystic Fibrosis. We hope there’s a cure soon so that Therese can live many more happy and healthy years.
Happy Birthday Therese.

I don’t need to be creamed at a game of “Memory” by my children (including my 4-year-old) to know that I don’t have one.
The other night my daughter was finding pair after pair after pair while I was only taking pairs by sheer luck. Even if she had just turned over the mate to the card I overturned on my turn, I couldn’t remember where it was in the sea of cards. I’m hopeless at that game.
What’s really disconcerting is that my memory is pretty hazy these days just trying to keep track of daily life. On Wednesday, I was convinced it was Thursday and kept preparing for the wrong activities. And it took me half the year to figure out that Jonah’s preschool ran  9 to 11:45 a.m. I kept arriving to drop him off at 8:45 a.m. and returning at noon.
Friends keep telling me that it’s just my crazy, busy life. Who wouldn’t forget stuff while balancing four kids, all their activities and a part time job. I hope they are right. It’s either that or dementia setting in early.