Baby Food: Saving Money, Reducing Waste

I've recently noticed that the little pouches of baby food which squeeze out of a little opening only slightly larger than the opening on a tube of toothpaste have exploded on the market. I first noticed them from companies such as Happy Baby in health and specialty food marts. But now it seems that every baby food company is making them and countless varieties now line the shelves of every grocery store's baby section.

These products are marketing genius. Babies and toddlers can suck the food down with little mess. The problem is that the packaging produces a lot of waste and the price is pretty steep for a mere 40-60 calories of pureed fruit and veggies. The obvious solution is to just puree fruits and veggies at home and put them in some sort of re-usable pouch. I did a Google search and so far haven't found any reusable pouches for sale. The closest I've found is baby spoons with attached food dispensers, but that really isn't any less messier than spooning baby food out of a jar; it's more of a travel convenience. 

My mother suggested using a pastry pouch. I did happen to have one at home which I could try out on my 8-month-old. It was the type of pouch with an open back, but I took care of that with a giant chip clip. And huzzah - it worked! But if you try this at home, just make sure the baby food you puree is thick enough, or else it'll just spill out all over the kiddo's face and clothing.

Other money-saving must-haves for parents with babies and young toddlers are a mini-food processor/chopper/blender (which can be purchased for as little as $15.) and mini steamer (which can be purchased new for as low as $5.) With that parents can make all the baby food they want for way cheap and with very little waste. Save the jars and disposable pouches for traveling.

Do Americans Respect Mothers?

I'm moved to comment on the media firestorm sparked by Hilary Rosen's comment that Ann Romney, a housewife, "never worked a day in her life" and therefore we can disregard her opinions on economic issues. I have little interest in defending or criticizing Rosen's comment itself. Although I will say that since all members of American society are impacted by economic issues, none of our opinions should be disregarded outright. But I'm more interested in how conservative pundits have seized on Rosen's gaff to flaunt how much they supposedly respect motherhood.

Like a lot of people, as this controversy began, I wondered if Ann Romney had a lot of help raising her children from nannies and maids. As it turns out, despite her husband's considerable wealth she apparently didn't rely on much help at all. Although it seems her choice to manage most of the household duties herself came more out of a sense of personal gratification than anything else. If indeed that is the case, good for her for finding a career that she loves, is good at, and being lucky enough to find a man willing and able to support her doing it for her entire life. I have no doubt that she's worked hard. But that's hardly the point when addressing women and economic issues in America.

Certainly plenty of affluent wives choose to both not work and not do most of the childcare or household chores, an option few if any men get. If a man were to do the same thing he'd be demeaned by society as a good-for-nothing houseboy. Few wives would respect such a husband. But mothers are supposed to believe that there's something inherently special about us. That we simply have children supposedly gives us automatic status, no matter what we actually do with our time. It doesn't and it shouldn't.

Stay-at-home-moms whose husbands are rich can at least take comfort in the belief that if they divorce they will get half of all shared possessions and perhaps a few years of considerable alimony payments (although that is also no guarantee. Guys financially smart enough to get rich are also smart enough to hide assets.) A fireman's housewife whose husband leaves her when she's 50 years old can pretty much expect to work low-wage jobs until she's dead or unable. Her ex-husband, on the other hand, is likely to continue growing his income and retirement benefits as he has been for decades.

It is taboo to attack motherhood in America because it is typical for mothers to give up careers to stay home, despite the serious financial risks that come with that choice. It is also common for them to work part time to devote more time to the children and household, or to even work full time while devoting more time than their husbands do to child care and housework. Women earn less than men partially because mothers are more likely to sacrifice time and effort at their jobs so they can put in more at home. Women also earn less than men because employers often discriminate against mothers, expecting them to sacrifice work for duties at home. We live in a society where it is considered a woman's responsibility to do most of the child care and housework, whether she has a career or not. The very term "motherhood" is associated with domestic tasks, opposed to "fatherhood" which conjures up images of working "providers" perhaps playing with their kids on the weekend.

Given certain economic realities, America's traditional attitude toward motherhood is disrespectful. Until our society also compensates women for this extra set of unpaid, domestic tasks, it is not okay to insist that those tasks are disproportionately our responsibilities. It's perfectly fine to go on about the nobility of a mother maintaining a home and being on hand as her children's tutor, chaperon, driver, cook, and primary emotional support system, so long as she gets something of equal worth back for it (so more than an annual holiday and a lot of lip service.) But that only happens for mothers such as Ann Romney who are lucky enough to be in lasting marriages with high-salaried husbands. All the rest are getting the short end of the stick.

Of course the other half of the solution is to encourage a major shift in our society's thinking about both motherhood and fatherhood. We'd have to get to the point where employers and co-workers expect that fathers as well as mothers will take off more time from their jobs to tend to their children. In addition, those employers would not discriminate against parents in hiring and giving out raises and promotions, and child-free co-workers would be willing to pick up the slack out of respect for these parents who have taken on the additional job of raising the next generation. All of which happens to run counter to traditional attitudes.

Until Americans have universal health care and free day and after school care for our children, Americans' supposed respect for mothers is nothing more than a smokescreen. If we respect motherhood so much, why don't we prove it?

Of Sexism and Supermoms: Review of "Feminine Mistake" by Leslie Bennetts

In 2007 I heard an interview with journalist Leslie Bennetts. She had just published her book The Feminine Mistake: Are We Giving Up Too Much? It advocates that moms maintain a career. At the time I hadn't yet had my first child, but was planning a family. Bennetts spoke passionately about what a risk it is to be financially dependent on a spouse (especially considering the high divorce rate). She warned how the lack of enough women in positions of great power makes it more difficult for young women and working mothers to climb their way up, not to mention the difficulty of breaking back into the work force after being out of it for 5-20 years. She also lamented the waste of education and professional potential when bright, young women finish degrees in law, business, and medical fields, often from Ivy League universities, only to drop out of the workforce before they even get their careers started.

I remember nodding my head and thinking, "Yes, of course!" My mom has a deeply satisfying career as an English teacher, and my mother-in-law is a nurse. Most of my aunts have college degrees and have worked full time or almost full time their whole lives. Their jobs energize them, give them confidence, and are interesting topics of conversation. Now granted, none of them really had a choice since a one income household was financially insecure and produced a much lower standard of living. But I get the impression that the women in my family don't just do it for the money. They like their jobs.

I admit, I'm a little appalled when I read or hear about affluent women who choose not to work because their husbands earn hundreds of thousands (or millions) of dollars, and then hire nannies and maids. It pisses me off that these women who are in such a powerful position to make society work better for all working parents (including overworked fathers) are apparently playing tennis and getting manicures, while trying to ignore the fact that they are at the financial mercy of their husbands.

Now to be clear, I do not have a high powered career. I'm a fine art printmaker and teaching artist. I make my money stringing together a mess of part time, freelance positions teaching and selling a pitifully small amount of artwork. I haven't had a single full-time job since I taught ESL in South Korea on an adventurous whim in between college and graduate school. I wish I earned more so as to ease the pressure on my husband and to have a more secure future for me and my children. But I always knew art wasn't a big money-maker. Despite the drawbacks, it's a legitimate path and I love it.

The first year of my older daughter's life changed nothing about my career. At the time I had a part time, work-from-home gig as an administrator and I was literally doing work on my laptop in the hospital bed after my c-section. My daughter was born September 4th and I was back to teaching after school art classes the first week of October. Thankfully, my husband worked third shift at the time, so he could be home when I went to teach. Also, my job was flexible enough that I could get away with bringing the baby along in an infant carrier if her dad wasn't available. When summer came I took a six week summer job and my mom (who has summers off) was able to watch the baby for a good chunk of the time. At first continuing work in my studio seemed impossible. I was always exhausted and it seemed like every time I tried the baby would cry. But eventually she got on a predictable schedule, and I found I was more inspired and motivated to make art than before because I wanted my daughter to see her mom doing more than housework.

Things were working out just fine, and I was as fulfilled and confident as I've ever been, until my husband got a promotion that came along with a day shift. My daughter was getting too big and aware to bring along to my after school classes, and her dad was no longer at home that time of day to take care of her. The most inexpensive day care centers would have eaten up 80% of my paychecks, and we couldn't afford to take that much of a reduction in income. So I quit my steady part-time teaching jobs and started babysitting out of my home to earn the money we needed. It seemed like the perfect solution; I had ample experience working with young children, clearances, training in first aid, and it would allow me to spend more time with my daughter.

Now I've been doing that for 18 months, and for the most part, it has been an adequate, albeit temporary solution. I really love children and I think I'd go nuts only hanging out with my own. It is nice to talk, however briefly, to my clients' parents when they get dropped off and picked up. Best of all, my daughter has benefited socially. It also made it easy to be pregnant again and have my second child. But I have no sick days or vacation pay. I and my children are dependent on my husband's health insurance. Perhaps worst of all, doing child care out of my home has put me less in touch with the people and institutions that would further my career as an artist and teacher. Fearing this from the start, I have continued to offer classes and workshops through a local art center. I also started an art blog and have put greater effort into online social networking and sales.

It is stressful to balance so many responsibilities, and after a while a little voice inside me started saying, "Just drop the art and teaching stuff you are doing. You love cooking and keeping the house all cozy, and playing with the kids. Just focus on that sort of stuff for the next few year. It'll be so much easier." But at the same time, another voice in me screamed "Are you kidding? You're an artist! You're a teacher! You can't just stop doing that stuff for a few years. What sort of example is that for the girls? Buck up and keep at it!" Then, while at the library, I stumbled on Bennetts's book and checked it out.

After the first few chapters I felt two frustrations with the book. First, while Bennetts insisted that she was addressing women across the class spectrum, it still seemed she was giving most attention to the upper classes. Then again, shouldn't she since those are the women who have the luxury of choosing not to work and who would be balancing out the power at the top if they all chose to work? Repeatedly Bennetts made the point that not just men, but men with housewives have an incredible career advantage over women and men with wives who also work. Such men are most likely to get into positions of great power because they are the ones who can most easily work the insane hours necessary to do so without worrying that the rest of their life will fall apart. Unfortunately, they are also the least likely to be sympathetic to the unique challenges of working parents who don't have a person at home managing the household. Thus, an unfair system perpetuates itself. Bennetts main tactic was trying scare affluent housewives by telling story after story of high-earning husbands who leave their wives for young hotties. These guys continue on with ever-increasing status and income while their forty, fifty, or sixty-some ex-wives are forced to work depressing, low-paying jobs or become dependent on their own children after child support and alimony (if they even get alimony) runs out. If the men in these stories sound like jerks, often the women aren't much better. Bennetts told the story of one especially despicable stay-at-home mom who gave up her dreams of being an actor and is now disappointed that her husband only earns enough for a stable middle class lifestyle, opposed to the luxurious lifestyle of her rich peers. When asked if she has any regrets, she says she would have married a different man! When asked what she would do if he left her, she says she would marry again! Any middle class reader is left with little sympathy for most of these people, and after a while the book feels more like a voyeuristic glimpse into the potential dysfunctions of the upper classes rather than a message for a broader audience.

My second frustration with the book at first was that it was making me depressed. That's because, despite the emphasis on the rich, I agreed with every word. Indeed, I feel trapped in a situation where I must stay home because my earning potential is (now that I have 2 kids) less than the cost of day care. That's right, if I were to get a day job as a barista or waitress full time (which is what most starving artists like me do) every penny plus some of my husband's paycheck would go to day care. I started to feel like an idiot for choosing a low-paying, unpredictable career in the arts and having two kids. Had my choices created a situation unfair for my husband and kids, and putting me in the cage of financial dependence?

I kept reading, and it got better. The book is not only an ominous warning to women who have quit or are considering quitting their careers to stay home. It is also a pep talk for women who are struggling to maintain careers during those difficult years when our children are young. While Bennetts's (reasonable) fear tactics and warnings were repeated throughout the book, eventually she focused on positives. Specifically, that work can be a joyful enterprise, providing confidence, a sense of purpose, and intellectual challenges, as well as a stable income.


Bennetts spent a good amount of the book attacking what she calls the false and sexist media image of "it's all or nothing." In other words, the false idea that women can be good at their professions, or they can be good moms, but not both. She points out the obvious double standard since men aren't sent these messages. Indeed, men should expect to make career sacrifices if they choose to have children, just like women do. For example, when I wanted our daughter to keep attending a gymfoolery class she enjoyed on Wednesday mornings, I asked my husband to go into work late those days to watch our new baby, and he agreed. Both working moms and dads need to pressure employers to be flexible regarding the family's needs. Neither parents should expect to be perfect in both their careers and parenting at the same time.

It is true that the bar for parental sacrifices is set much lower for men. Bennetts mentioned this, and I was reminded of an episode of the television show Louie where comedian Louis C.K. waves away compliments about how he's a "good father" for showing up at his daughter's school event. He recognizes that the low expectations on fathers insulting to men. One of my professional goals as a wood block printmaker is to do a two month residency at the Nagasawa Art Park in Japan. When I mentioned my plans to apply when my girls are around 7 and 9 years old, another mother and artist acquaintance gave me a dark look and said, "Oh, I don't think you could leave them for that long." Why not? My father went to Mexico for three months on assignment when I was even younger. Sure I missed him terribly, but I also thought it was amazing that my daddy was doing something so interesting for his job.

Bennetts explored how mothers tend to be quiet and modest about their professional achievements and feel afraid to express excitement about them. These messages hit home with me. As I've invested more of my time and identity with babysitting and staying at home with the kids, my self image has suffered. Recently I took my girls to have lunch with their dad at work. When we went inside, my husband began proudly introducing his family to his co-workers. In addition to beaming over his daughters' adorableness, he eagerly told them about a group exhibition I had coming up and my teaching an art education class at a local university. My knee-jerk reaction to this was to sheepishly shrug and mumble "Oh, yeah." as if these were nothing important or special. On later reflection, I thought, "What is wrong with me? I never used to act like this!"

This passage from the book especially hit a chord with me:

Misguided ideals of perfection are the bane of women's existence, and their pursuit inadvertently encourages women to limit their ambitions. Instead of accepting that life is an inherently messy enterprise and that the vast, complex sweep of it is a large part of the joy, they think it's better to narrow their focus to small segments that can be tidied up and wrapped with a big bow, even as they turn their backs on most of the wondrous possibilities that might otherwise enrich their existence.

Bennetts book assures working mothers (and fathers) that we can be "good enough" at both. Especially since the time that we are intensely raising our children is for most a relatively small slice of time. The past two years my artwork shrunk to a smaller scale, and my projects are less ambitious and take longer to complete. I shouldn't feel bad about that. Instead I should feel proud that I'm consistently plugging away at it while raising two fantastic little girls. In fact, these years are helping me learn how to better manage my time, so after the girls are grown I can be a more productive artist than before I had them. Thinking about things that way helps me feel better when my living room is strewn with toys, I've burnt the bean soup, and forgot to change over the laundry I put in four hours ago. At least I posted my latest workshops to Craig's List and got some carving done during the kids' nap. Really, given the choice, what's more important, staying on top of the laundry all the time, or making a new work of art? Or as Bennetts put it: "it's better to be messy and creative than neat and uninspired."

To my joy, Bennetts also addressed the issue of husbands needing to change. It is true, if women are to succeed in altering our roles in society and at home, our male partners must also change. Bennetts mentioned an article I had read about how the hours that men and women work pretty much breaks even because even though mothers do spend more time on childcare and housework than fathers, fathers tend to spend an equal amount of extra time working on their careers. Reading that helped me appreciate my husband rather than fume at him for not cleaning the bathrooms or scooping the litter boxes often enough. However, Bennetts points out two important facts that prove such arrangements are still unfair. First, so long as a couple stays together, both can benefit from one partner's increased income over time. But if they ever separate, as half of couples do, the person who invested more in their career gets to reap the benefits of that investment, while the one who provided a supporting role is left high and dry. Second, Bennetts cites evidence that doing housework is associated with greater unhappiness and that housewives suffer from lowered self esteem. This might explain my sheepish response to my husband bragging about my professional achievements to his co-workers. So while the hours of work might even out, the overall benefits of paid work are greater.

So what's the solution? Just like women shouldn't give up on their careers, they also shouldn't give up on pressuring their husbands to do their fair share of housework. Bennetts admits that this alone isn't going to produce perfect equality right away since women are going up against a whole lot of socialization that compels both men and women to embrace traditional roles. We can be nice about it, but unless we continue to push against those forces, things will never change. In other words, I shouldn't let my annoyance at the stinky litter box eat me up inside, but I should kindly mention to my husband that it needs scooping instead of just doing it myself.

Two Spicy Meals

The other day my daughter's reaction to dinner reminded me of an important meal I had in Mexico in 1995.

As a rule, I feed my now 30-month-old daughter whatever I make for myself and her dad. She doesn't have to eat everything, but she won't be offered any alternatives either. I try to mix it up with a lot of variety partially so I don't get bored and partially so she doesn't get stuck on a couple favorite foods.

The other night I was excited to try a new recipe for white beans, sausage, and kale over rice with a side of baked sweet potato strips. I used spicy Italian sausage - something Lysistrata had never tried. Dinner was running a bit late, so she was especially hungry by the time the food reached the table. She happily climbed onto her chair ready to chow-down. Looking into her bowl, she smiled and exclaimed, "Meatballs!" I explained to her that it was "sausage" and "a lot like meatballs". I also explained to her what the other bits were, which she rejected with a shake of her head. She took a big bite of just the sausage, and then things took a turn.

Lysistrata's face turned red as her mouth slowly opened and she simultaneously spit out the food and began to wail. "It's too hot!" I told her to drink some water, which she did. I also encouraged her to try the white beans, kale, rice, and sweet potatoes, but she refused. Instead she put another piece of sausage in her mouth. Her reaction was the same, only this time she swallowed the piece before wailing. She ate a third piece before shifting into full-on tantrum mode. She pushed the plate away, grabbed a huge handful of sweet potato strips, and screamed, "I don't want that!" I grabbed her hand just before she threw the sweet potatoes on the floor. She glared at me, then let out a primal scream. It reminded me of orc battle cries in Lord of the Rings.

On the surface, I remained calm. In as soothing a tone of voice as I could muster, I told her she needed to be in time out, and when she felt better she could come back to the table. Then I gently lifted her and placed her on the couch as she broke into tears. Inside I felt a wreck. Was I a terrible mother for expecting my toddler to eat spicy food? Should I break down and heat up some frozen meatballs? I kept reminding myself that she had eaten beans, rice, and sweet potatoes all before. There was plenty of "safe" foods for her to eat if she wasn't feeling adventurous about the kale and sausage. And she'd had kimchi for the first time at 18 months, and many other ethnic foods that have some heat, Besides, as far as spicy foods go, this sausage was relatively mild. I would stick to my guns and calmly wait for her to return to the table.

It took about five minutes for her to calm down and return. Her face streaked with dried tears, Lysistrata picked up her spoon and began to eat. As before, she started picking out the pieces of sausage to eat first, only this time she seemed to enjoy them. Then she added a piece of white bean or kale and rice to the spoonfuls, and when the sausage was gone, she kept eating the rest until the bowl was empty, at which point she reached for the sweet potatoes. Her mood shifted back to pleasant, and she told me dinner was "tasty." I quietly thanked her for the compliment, but inside I was doing a victory dance.

Witnessing this whole scenario unfold I was reminded of a meal pivotal to the development of my taste and enjoyment of food. As a child I avoided spicy foods, and I had to avoid them because my dad was a huge fan and they were frequently around. But when I was 17 and my family went to Mexico for part of the summer, avoiding spicy foods became much more challenging. I had managed to maintain my preferred mild diet rather well until the summer program I attended went on a field trip to a "traditional" bar-restaurant. A sign on the outer wall of the building read, "No women or children." We were, however, permitted to sit in the outside courtyard at rustic, wood tables with umbrellas to block the harsh sun. There was no menu. If you were hungry, you could order the meal. This turned out to be several courses of the hottest food I'd ever tasted. Of course not eating was an option, but it was late in the afternoon, and I was starving. My hunger far outweighed my aversion to spice, and I forced myself to eat. I wanted to whine and cry about it, beg my teacher and fellow students to go somewhere else to eat, but I was too old to act so sophomoric. The only beverages available were bottled water and carbonated soda, which provided little relief from the intensifying fire in my mouth. I just had to let it burn.

This was the most physically painful meal I have ever endured. But it was probably also one of the best. After it I wasn't afraid of spicy food, and this has encouraged me to expand to a wider range of foods. The thing about spicy food is that it still has flavor to be enjoyed and substance to satisfy hunger. Over a decade later I still have specific memories of some of the wonderful flavors in the courses from that firey meal. Not to mention the many wonderful spicy foods I have been able to enjoy since then.

Watching Lysistrata shove piece by piece of that sausage into her mouth despite the heat, I realized that she was learning a valuable lesson - that there can be joy and pain, attraction and aversion, at the same time, and that sometimes enduring a little pain proves worth the effort.

Barefaced and Beautiful Campaign, a Lame Distraction

Today kicks off National Eating Disorders Awareness Week. Certainly eating disorders are a point of concern for many western parents, especially if they have daughters. I have known three young women who suffered from rather severe eating disorders for a time, and have suspected it of quite a few other friends and acquaintances. I am abundantly aware that anorexia and bulimia can lead to serious health problems, including death. (No doubt I know this because of past awareness campaigns.) So continuing to raise public awareness for upcoming generations of body-conscious young people seems like a wise and reasonable idea.

What I don't get it what this has to do with makeup.

The Renfrew Center Foundation which treats and conducts research about eating disorders is using this week to present "Barefaced and Beautiful", a campaign where they encourage women to go without wearing makeup Monday, March 27, 2012, post pictures of their naked faces on Twitter and Facebook, and spread the word to family and friends.

This campaign is in response to a survey of women conducted by the Foundation that revealed that 44% of women experience negative feelings without their makeup on, such as insecurity or self-consciousness. Almost half use makeup to hide flaws in their skin. Also, more than a quarter of women who wear makeup began doing so between the ages of 11 and 13.

I read this and I think, ummm, so?

Makeup, like clothing and jewelry, is adornment, not disguise. I imagine lots of women would feel uncomfortable and less attractive walking around in public with bed head or without a bra, but that hardly means they think their hair or breasts are ugly. Of course women use makeup to hide flaws in the skin. I remember desperately trying to find the right color to conceal that occasional mega-zit in high school. It had no reflection on my sense of self worth. And of course girls often start trying on makeup around the age of 12; that's when puberty kicks in. They're getting breasts, their first period, and developing crushes.  It is obvious that girls going through such transformation will be interested in picking up some of the habits and rituals of grown women. What exactly is harmful about dabbling in makeup?

Nowhere in any press coverage of this campaign can I find mention (much less evidence) of how makeup is directly connected with unhealthy body image issues or eating disorders.

Whether a woman wears makeup or not is largely a choice of personal style, similar to deciding what sort of shoes to wear or purse to carry. Also, as with clothing and jewelry, makeup is highly personalized expression. Through its use a woman can choose to blend in with convention, but she can also rebel or align herself with a particular subculture (think Goth), or make a bold and memorable impression (think Tammy Faye.) A woman can choose to make a certain shade of lipstick her signature in the same way some women exclusively wear a certain scent.

On top of that, the social pressure to wear makeup isn't all that strong or overt. I write this as a woman who hasn't worn makeup since high school (and even then only a handful of times), and no one has ever said anything to me about it, or even seemed to notice. The women I know who wear makeup seems to relish "putting on their faces" in the same way I enjoy picking out a pair of earrings and a necklace to wear for the day.

This campaign suggests that women who wear makeup are both insecure and victimized by a culture that pressures them to not be themselves. It also suggests that women like me who don't wear makeup are somehow rebels, throwing off convention even if the consequence is that we'll be perceived as less beautiful by most people. This bothers me.

What bothers me more is that I fail to see any meaningful connection between wearing makeup and having an eating disorder. Of the three women I've known with diagnosed eating disorders, two didn't wear makeup. In both cases, they associated with a subculture of women who didn't wear makeup (one was the sort of hippie-vegan type, the other was a butch bisexual.) And finally, this campaign places the focus exclusively on women since men conventionally don't wear make up. However, many men do have body image issues and eating disorders. This whole Barefaced and Beautiful campaign strikes me as a distraction from the real problems women and men with eating disorders deal with, and that's a shame.

Great Outdoors Vital to Children's Health and Education

As a city-mom shopping around for preschools, I've noticed several programs touting the kids' regular access to several acres of wilderness. One nursery school's website even features a large, colorful photograph of children running full force through a field dotted with mature trees and strewn with freshly-fallen leaves.

This emphasis on the importance of free play in nature has inspired my curiosity. Is there any hard evidence that children benefit more from playing in forest and field opposed to gym or playground? If so, what are those benefits?

One seemingly obvious benefit is to physical fitness. Indeed, there are great benefits to be had with certain types of video games, websites, board games, and many other indoor activities. But they are mostly sedentary activities. Simply being outside where there is much more space to move around in, and in nature where there tends to be more space in between points of interest compels a person to get more exercise.

In a couple of her articles on babycenter.com, anthropologist Gwen Dewar cites a few studies and provides some analysis of a potential connection between health and time spent in the great outdoors. In Kids outdoors: Beyond team spots and PE, she writes about how children in Amish and Mennoite communities tend to be leaner and stronger, and she suggests this is because of physically-engaging chores such as hauling water and chopping wood. Although Dewar is quick to point out that American children who merely live in more rural areas do not tend to be more physically fit. The idea, she insists, is to just get them outside doing anything, such as biking or hiking, rather than exclusively depending on organized sports or physical education classes to keep kids in shape. And in her article Parents stifle kids' active, outdoor play, Dewar discusses studies which suggest that more formal, adult-guided activities (opposed to free play with peers) results in kids being less active.

Much has been written about how adults in cities tend to be more active than their suburban counterparts. The simple fact that city folks have access to public transit or live within walking distance to many stores, banks, post offices, and such means that they at least walk more average steps in a day. When Morgan Spurlock went on his McDonald's diet for a month for the film Supersize Me, he also restricted his movement to that of the average American, and living in the city that meant often taking cabs where normally he would have done a combination of walking and public transit. However, does this mean city kids are also more active than rural and suburban kids? One study suggests that the opposite is true. As reported in this article:

The report, published in the International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health, used data from a 2006 survey of school-aged children from grades 6 through 10 (ages 11 to 15). It looked at the physical activity patterns of 8,535 students from 180 schools across Canada, and then compared it to the 5-kilometre area surrounding each school. 

The study found that youth in the neighbourhoods of highest density and most connectivity between streets were less likely to be physically active outside school.

The problem is that, especially for younger children, adequate adult supervision in densely packed, narrow streets with numerous moving vehicles is difficult. Indeed, raising my toddler in the city I've found that I am not comfortable even walking a couple blocks to the pharmacy without putting her in a harness to prevent her from suddenly dashing into a busy road. (I get some funny looks doing so, but I'll take that over her getting hit by a car because I wasn't fast enough to grab her in time.) Children in suburbs and more rural areas tend to have large yards and can more safely take over quiet cul-de-sacs for biking, roller skating, and casual games of soccer. 

Beyond exercise, what other benefits could there be to children spending more time in nature? Recently a report in Scotland indicated that the creation of "Urban Jungles" (trees, boulders, and tunnels, opposed to more traditional playground equiptment) resulted in not only increased physical activity of the children, but less accidents and less bullying. 

Over a two week period in 2009 there were 76 accidents, one incident of bullying and 53 other incidents, which include pushing, hitting and slipping. 

A follow-up study in 2011 recorded six accidents and two cases of bullying. Both cases of bullying occurred when the natural play space was closed. 

Others are raising concerns that an increasing disconnect with nature leaves serious gaps in children's education that might diminish their ability to understand many concepts in science and environmental concerns.  One professor in West Australia has spoken out against the problem, particularly for city children

Dr How, who is also an adjunct professor at the school of anatomy and human biology at the University of WA, said the issue was a significant challenge to biodiversity education. 

He said this held serious consequences for children's health but also environmental conservation because the next generation could not protect and appreciate what they did not understand.  

There the State Government is spending two million dollars on a "Nature Play" program to encourage children to experience and learn about the outdoors. 


Recently, Michael D. Barton expressed many of the same concerns in guest article for the Foundation Beyond Belief's blog, titled Humanist Perspectives: Connecting Children to Nature. Barton writes about his concerns that education about evolution, the environment, and developing a personal connection to nature through first hand experience is lacking in public schools, and that as a parent he feels it is his responsibility to supplement his child's education in those areas. He does this not only by having lots of relevant books about, but by taking advantage of local parks and trails as well as nature programming at libraries and museums. He writes: 

To feel that we are a part of nature is crucial in thinking about how we want to treat this planet. 

It begs the question, can we learn all we need to know about the natural sciences from books, or is some amount of direct experience necessary? It is one thing to know something in theory. It is another to have experienced it. This is why we have children conduct hands-on experiments, dissect frogs and turn celery stalks funny colors by immersing them in cups of dyed water. Direct experience provides visuals, tactile sensations, sounds, smells, and tastes that allow us to more personally engage with the information we are taking in. These experiences also leave us with a more vivid memory. 


The more I read, the more I'm drawn to that preschool where the teachers and administrators brag about how the children go outside to freely roam the grounds every day, regardless of rain or snow. I love the city, and I'm proud and enthusiastic about raising my children in a place with so much culture, diversity, and sense of community. But I also want my kids to regard physical activity as something spontaneous and joyful, not only as scheduled, formal activities. I want them to know what it is to catch a fish or swim in a lake. When I teach them about Darwin and his theory of natural selection, I want them to be able to easily imagine the experiences that lead to the ideas, such as obsessively collecting beetles, and comparatively examining finches and tortoise shells on the Galapogos Islands. And I want my kids to experience the unique sense of awe and humility that comes with staring up at a sky full of stars, or standing in a forest of tall trees, or witnessing a gorgeous sunset, or gazing out at the endless blue of an immense body of water. I want them to love this earth with a deep and honest passion, so that acting to preserve our planet in its current state is not only rational, it's personal. 

On the Film "Forks Over Knives" and Plant-Based Diet Advocacy

With Thanksgiving, a holiday centered around food coming up, it seemed most appropriate to write about Forks Over Knives, one of the latest of many documentaries (not to mention books) about the role of diet in health.

This film advocates for a heavily plant-based diet. At least mostly vegetarian (using meat and other animal products very sparingly as flavoring, and big increases the whole grains, legumes, fruits, and veggies), and ideally strict vegetarian (no meat, dairy, or eggs.) Normally I have avoided films and books that have advocated for vegetarianism, especially strict vegetarian (vegan) diets.

A recent speaker advocating such a diet at one of my local humanist group's program meeting reminded me why. Too often, advocates of vegetarianism, especially veganism, support their message with a bunch of self-righteous moralizing about a level of animal rights that simply doesn't jive with my (or most people's) moral compass. I would happily stab a thousand cows in the face if it would cure a loved-one of cancer. And while I am concerned about the inhumane conditions of much factory farming, there are alternatives of buying and consuming meat from local farmers, and these are becoming more and more accessible. The animal rights approach swiftly dismisses the cultural, psychological, and practical hurtles many must overcome to be vegan, and likens even the occasional meat-eater to puppy torturers. The lecture I recently heard definitely took this approach, and I left the meeting highly annoyed and desiring a cheeseburger just out of spite.

Forks Over Knives does NOT take this approach. Animals rights aren't even mentioned. In fact, the term "vegan" seems to be deliberately avoided in exchange for the phrase "plant-based diet", presumably to distance itself from the association with groups like PETA. Instead, the film focuses on the personal health benefits of a plant-based diet, particular a whole foods, plant-based diet. And it backs its claims up mainly by profiling the research and conclusions of two doctors: T. Colin Campbell and Caldwell Esselstyn. Campbell is a biochemist and one of the lead researchers in the China-Oxford Cornell study that looked at nutrition and disease in 65 rural counties in China over two decades. Campbell wrote about his research and findings in a best selling book The China Study, published in 2006.  Esselstyn is a physician at the Cleveland Clinic who had success treating heart disease patients through diet and wrote about it in Prevent and Reserve Heart Disease, published in 2008. I had previously read both of these doctors' books and had been heavily persuaded by them, while maintaining a few grains of skepticism. After all, the role of nutrition in health is incredibly complex and difficult to study, and both Campbell and Esselstyn make some pretty far-reaching claims about how well a plant-based diet can eliminate many "diseases of affluence" (as Campbell puts it in his book), in particular heart disease, stroke, and cancer.

After reading the books in 2008, I attempted to eat a diet that was mostly in-line with what they advocated. Indeed, I felt good, still enjoyed food, and combined with regular exercise I dropped 25 pounds over 6 months.

But then I got pregnant. (Indeed, the reason I was trying to get all healthy was in anticipation of pregnancy.) It was amazing how much months of persistent nausea and vomiting, as well as hormone-induced cravings for ham salad, cheeseburgers, ice cream, and a total disgust for all things vegetable quickly converted me back to my old way of eating. Actually, much worse than my old way of eating. Things improved a bit after the first trimester, and after having my baby, my love of vegetables returned and I started replacing processed foods, meat, and cheese, with more fresh fruits, veggies, and legumes. But while breastfeeding and eventually introducing a baby to solid foods, I also kept butter, milk, and eggs in the fridge at all times, and made meals with meat at least once or twice a week.

I read Michael Pollan's book In Defense of Food, which can be summed up in his mantra "Eat food (as in not overly-processed Frankenfoods). Not too much. Mostly plants." And I was feeling pretty darn good about my family's diet. Then comes along "Forks Over Knives" to remind me of all that stuff I read and started to believe 3 years ago, and I started questioning whether I should be buying a dozen eggs and some sort of free range meat or fish every week.

After watching the film, I poked around the Internet looking for criticisms. I am automatically skeptical of these sorts of documentaries that heavily push a particular political, social, or philosophical point of view. They have a tendency to gloss over important criticisms and utilize a good number of fallacious arguments. And indeed, I found this lengthy but humorous, even-handed, yet heavy critique of the film's scientific claims. The author, Denise Minger, is a young person without any academic credentials in a related field. However, her research and arguments are rather thorough and startling, and I found them quite persuasive. Once again I'm feeling pretty good about allowing my daughter her meatballs and "eggie pie" (quiche) a couple times a week since, after all, she eats just as much beans and brown rice, oatmeal, a wide variety of steamed vegetables, and whole fruits on a daily basis.

For this Thanksgiving I have pre-ordered a free range, local turkey. As a couple of my guests are vegan, it will be accompanied by a wide assortment of plant-based side dishes including strictly vegetarian green bean casserole, mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy, sweet potato casserole, cranberry salad, and pumpkin pie - all made with fresh ingredients.

But I gotta say, I'm looking forward to that bird.