Drinking Coffee, Tea, and Other Warm Beverages

Caramel Latte is one of my favourite all time drinks. The one in the picture had way, way too much syrup and it was clearly not real caramel. So disappointing to drink, but very pretty to look at.

Now that the weather is quickly cooling and we will soon rival temperatures and wind chill with Siberia (not kidding y'all), I like to play around with warm drinks.

I do warm cider with cream, from scratch chai latte, coffee, hot chocolates, warm teas, spicy teas, herbal teas..... but the real trick is not actually making them yummy. That is easy, no the real trick is making them still taste yummy after I add in a 1/4 a teaspoon of fermented cod liver oil.

Yes. I said it. Fermented Cod Liver Oil. This has got to be the most foul smelling and tasting thing anyone ever has decided was something people should eat. God forbid it spills and the clean up rag ends up in a forgotten laundry hamper only to curse the house with a fouled up washing machine, losing 5 towels to attrition, and ruining several good sweaters. That is like the worst level of laundry hell, I kid you not. So why, oh why, would I even bring that into my house let alone feed it to my children? Vitamin D. I refuse to use synthetic. I do not even give my kids a multivitamin, I prefer to make sure their food is rich in nutrients of the digestible and usable kind. Still, with Isaac's immune deficiency and known Vitamin D (actually a hormone) deficiency (34 was his last level), I decided to give cod liver oil a try. Bonus, it helps with chronic constipation that plagues 22q kids but Isaac has never had issues with. Nope. Never. Are the two related? Maybe.

We also do not use sunscreen. We eat Vitamin D rich foods like mushrooms, fresh pastured lard, grass fed butter, and fish. We go outside all year round and stay out there in the sun. We have Happylights. Crazy talk, I know. Seriously though, I work mushrooms into so many things here it isn't even funny. I hate mushrooms. Hate them. For the benefit of our health, I got around my own personal issues. They go in the bone broths and I puree them into meat balls and sauces so there is mushroom of some sort on the table 3-4 times a week.

Why not use synthetic D in pill or gummie form? There are a lot of reasons, synthetic D reacts with calcium in a different way and 22q kids have issues with calcium levels. Low calcium leads to seizures. Natural D does NOT have this problem. The kicker for me was this mind blowing fact- vitamin D isn't a vitamin- it is a HORMONE. No way am I giving my kids synthetic hormones. Nope. Not ever. Not when I can do the same thing naturally and with food and a couple fancy light bulbs.

So that brings me to to the fermented cod liver oil. I do not use it every day. They get it in their warm drinks on cloudy stretches in the winter. Today the kids played outside for 90 minutes in the sunshine, even though it was cold. They came back in with better attitudes and flushed cheeks after planting acorn seeds they found (Isaac got to help), hauling firewood by the arm loads (Isaac watched), and generally running around in the grass chasing each other. Today they did not need it. I usually start giving it to them in January and through April, depending on our weather here in the Midwest.

I am getting pretty good at being a sneaky barista, but last year my kids found me out and mounted a political campaign with protest signs and a chanted slogan (MAKE the DISH without THE fish......OIL. They took turns supervising food preparation to catalog ingredients. It was hilarious. This year, I plan on being honest about it.....when they ask me.

I would love not to have this in my fridge though. What kinds of things do other folks do? Ideas?

Alligator Soup

So I made this: Alligator Gumbo. Except that it wasn't really gumbo. It was a chowder. The kids insisted on calling it gumbo and they gobbled it up. Isaac had two bowls worth of alligator (he picked the meat out and ONLY ate that until he ran out and then he spooned up broth only bites).

It was simple actually. I carmelized one diced onion in butter, then added bite sized chopped up alligator fillets and sprinked seasoning salt on generously. I simmered that until the meat was cooked and the natural liquid was mostly gone. Then I added a handful of flour and made a quick roux. Next in was 4 cups of chicken broth, slowly poured in while stirring to keep the mixture thickening. Brought back to a bubbling boil, added sweet corn and dried and crushed sweet peppers. I could have added celery, potatoes, and carrots too but I didn't have time for those to cook. Add 1/2 cup of cream when taken off heat.

Recipe:
1 lb alligator fillets cut into bite sized chunks
1 onion, diced
1 cup of frozen sweet corn
4 cups of chicken broth
seasoning salt
4-5 dried sweet peppers
4 T of butter
handful of flour
1/2 cup of cream or sour cream

Serves 4-5 generous bowls.

This would be really good with fried cornbread bites or hushpuppies too.

I want to add this note too, I made this as a challenge to my theory that I could make any soup with a meat of choice, broth, and vegetables on hand. It worked. It worked really well. We will not ever get sick of soup if I can change them up with the kind of variety a simple template like this offers.

Meat + broth + vegetables= soup.  20 minutes from start to finish.

Keeping Up Appearances

 A really insightful discussion this week, jumping off of this article, got me thinking. Appearances matter in ways that are more complex than most people stop and take time to consider, but not just the way we present ourselves, other signals like language diction, vocabulary, and body language also cue to people our financial and social status and this matters. 

It shouldn't, but it does.  It matters when we shop. At the grocery store, if I don't dress up from my usual jeans and t-shirt, I always get asked if I am using food stamps. I have even been on the receiving end of snide comments about using food stamps even though I never have.

I have been ignored in shops because I look poor. I was even asked to leave once. I get that I look young. I look poor. I do not look like my place in society- which is an highly educated, white woman in her 30's, married, with a stable 2 income household. I have the privilege of using my appearance to my advantage and I can easily code switch between two worlds. That is the true privilege of social mobility.

This I can deal with. It annoys me. It worries me. Still, it is not life or death.

When does it matter though? It matters to folks who do not have the ability or have even thought about the disadvantage of not being able to move between or present themselves a certain way.

It matters at the hospital.

It matters in the emergency room. It matters in the NICU. It matters when talking to specialists.  I have had a few doctors and nurses who it doesn't matter to, but they are the exception. I make a point of having my iPhone out, dropping references to my job (college professor) and my husband's job and I see them flip the file and double check the section that has that data. I am careful about my grammar. I choose my shoes carefully too.  I bring a binder and any article I reference I keep a copy in there, I also have PDF's on my Google drive and offer to email them if need be. I am sure to cite studies from resources I know that are taken seriously by the medical community, CDC instead of NaturalNews for example. I wear expensive earrings.

Do these things actually matter? In my own experience, yes. If I am rushed or tired and forget this whole production matters, things do not go as well. We don't follow recommendations by our doctors blindly without questioning and many are not used to that. I have to be prepared to meet their level of intellectual code and clearly I can. I have that privilege. What happens to folks who do not? The answer gets more complicated. Part of me fosters a certain kind of fear. Many of the choices we make for our family are the same things that people get their children taken from them for- selective vaccinating, refusing formula for a failure to thrive baby, co-sleeping, spreading out well checks- just a few examples. Somehow I managed to gain the trust of our doctors and caregivers that I am capable of making the decisions without harming my children while a 17 year old, near homeless mother loses her children. I can't help but wonder if my social privilege of education and knowing when certain presentation of things matter because they do actually matter.

It is one thing for these things to make a difference regarding how a grocery clerk and customer treat us, it is a life or death game when seeking medical care.

Another incident sticks out in my mind. We were going over test results with a specialist. He's a great doctor and was very thorough and respectful, willing to work with us. However he ordered a long list of tests just to cover all the bases. One of those tests was the FISH test that diagnosed Isaac with 22q, but there were 15 other tests he ran too. I was fine with that. We followed up. We followed up at his request several times. Each time, blood work and physical exam showed all good things, progress, not more complications. Each visit was $450 out of our pocket. When he asked for another follow up, I explained that to him. I also had concerns about how we were billed for the CAT scan (a $5000 facility fee was tacked on and I wanted to know why and what this was for). He was surprised at the fee, said it had to be a mistake but he was also surprised because he thought we were on Medicaid and Title 19. He said it was not actually necessary for us to come back again and signed off on Isaac's care. 

First, I had the know how to navigate the bitterly cold and horrible waters of hospital billing to ask these questions. I had the privilege of being able to read the bill, the time to spend on hold, and the language and communication skills to make progress. Eventually, the bill was lowered to $1,200 but it took taking to the level of legal action to get them to actually prove to me that the billing was legitimate. That is a huge difference and mistakes and bills like those can push families into financial ruin and poverty.

So let's not just shrug off the value of this privilege. Let's not say it doesn't matter. Instead how about we coach other families and advocate for each other. It is a code that we need to be able to navigate and switch back and forth from if we want the best possible care for our kids. We know that being jerks and yelling and swearing at the medical professionals will knock our actual care and experience down a whole lot, but it is more than attitude that matters.

So I present to you a list of things you can do when you can do them. So much of me, especially the feminist in me, wishes these things didn't matter, but they do and we can use them as tools.

1) Nicer shoes. Start there. Get a special pair just for doctor's appointments. (Good for germ management too, by the way.)
2) Tie your hair back into a bun. This is easy, even if you don't have time to groom your hair. I have a special clip just for this. I can do it in the car at one stop light or in the ER waiting to see the first doc after triage.
3) a light coloured lipstick or gloss. Not bright, not garish, but something.
4) A cardigan or sweater you can pull on over whatever you are wearing. Expensive looking earrings. I keep a pair in my purse just for this. This makes jeans and a T-shirt transform into something just enough classy that it makes the difference.
5) Speak carefully, make eye contact. Do not use contractions like don't, can't, y'all, ain't. Don't get chatty. Don't ramble. Speak carefully and softly. Make them listen to you when you speak and make it count.
6) Take notes. Ask questions. Ask them to repeat things and define words.
7) Ask for copies of everything. Keep it in an organised binder.
8) Stay calm and sweet. This doesn't mean play dumb, it means stay cordial. Check your sarcasm at the door. Losing your temper and storming out needs to be a very last resort. Even if you never ever come back or switch doctors or file a complaint with the state board, causing a scene looks bad on you not them. Last resort only.
9) If you know you don't do this well, get an advocate to go with you. Other special needs moms are fantastic as a resource. Choose someone who can play the game and get taken seriously.
10) Cry in the car. Cry at home. Never cry on the phone or in front of them. Unless your kid just survived a code or some other major thing has happened, then totally break down on the floor, fall to your knees and sob. Crying over being frustrated over billing or rude receptionists needs to wait.

I wish these things didn't matter. I wish they didn't matter more for poor women or families of colour and ethnic background. Clearly dads don't have to wear lipstick. These are things I do because I have experienced better care for my special needs child when I did.

What about you? Do you have any experiences to backup or argue this phenomenon? Tell me you think it is bullshit, tell me you agree. Let's get some dialogue going, y'all.

My Ninja Pirate Princess Fisher Artist Dreamer and Friend....Lily

Happy birthday love. My hopes for you are that nine is as gracious a year as eight has been to you, that you continue to love learning to read, that you always choose dancing with your brother over chores, that flowers bloom in your footsteps,  that any tears you cry you have earned, and that you continue to feel everything deeply and passionately even when it sets the world on fire and crashing around you.

You have rocked my world, made me a mother, challenged me  to be a better mother and a more peaceful person. You have needed protecting and friendship and love and I have tried to give you everything I have and more. You are loved, so loved.

Dear Lily, cheers to age nine. Hold up your apple juice high, and sing to the clouds your beautiful songs! Sweet Lily, I hope to always be your friend and hunt for bugs and mushrooms and faerie folk with you. I will be your taste tester in the kitchen, your artist in training partner, your travel companion, and your mother, always.

Nine was a big year for me and I hope that your ninth year is just as full of joy as only you can make it. Goodbye eight. We'll miss you. Hello nine, let me show you the ropes! Catch your laughter on the summer breezes and hide it in your pocket for the colder months. Save some to mix in your hot cocoa and let the warmth from joy tickle you to your toes and spill out all over the table and your shirt, creating more smiles and giggles as it does.

The world is only getting scarier. You will understand more of it this year and I know that your big and passionate heart will be frightened and sad by what you learn. I am sorry that our world is like that. I can only hope that children like you, grow up to be people who work on healing the pain and chaos that all who came before you have left as legacy.

Dear Lily, I love you. Mama.