The Mother-Daughter Group: A Survival Strategy

It all went dark. The curtain came down and the trap door opened dropping us into a veritable abyss of absolute craziness. The first semester of high school. After homeschooling for six years.

My very last post here reveled in the bliss of being child-free for the day and the milestone of having a freshman in high school. Having a high schooler is momentous in and of itself because it's hard for me to believe that I am old enough to have a kid in high school. Brings new meaning to the old adage, "The days are long, but the years fly by".

Those memories of myself in high school feel like almost yesterday. Vivid. Real. Touchable. Yet, they are in essence so very far away. My husband and I always freak at the thought that our daughter is closer to the age that we were when we met each other in college than we are to that very same age. It's a little weird.

I really felt like crying those first two weeks of adjusting to Horsegirl being in high school. It wasn't because she was away. Although, that was rather strange. The Bee and I did feel a little sad and adrift at the change. Mainly, it was that I felt overwhelmed with the paperwork of signing forms acknowledging that I had received and read each teacher's syllabus. And figuring out the teacher websites. The running back and forth to Staples for the very specific items each teacher wanted Horsegirl to have for that class.

Figuring out the homework assignments and adjusting to a grueling schedule was a little overwhelming for Horsegirl. And for me. And for the Entrepeneur. Really, for the whole household. Everything turned upside down. Frantic seems to be a good word to sum it up.

And that's just summing up the actual schoolwork adjustment. Another level of angst was added by the sheer level of human suffering occurring within some of the student body at the school. Second week in began with a suicide of a girl at another school who was close friends with the crowd Horsegirl was hanging out with. Then weeks later another school friend was committed to the UCLA psychiatric unit for suicidal feelings. In general, there seemed to be a lot of medicated kids. And kids with struggles.

I kind of felt like we had been living in an alternative universe for years and we were suddenly dropped in the midst of a place I didn't really understand. I went to a Catholic high school where if you put one toe out of line you were picking up trash in the quad. A private school has the power to kick a student out if they misbehave. So hearing stories about how a girl in class wastes class time arguing with the science teacher about not turning in her cell phone after inappropriate use, making a big scene and finally getting sent to the deans office or about another offender who calls the teacher a "bitch" to her face stuns me into silence. I simply cannot comprehend.

Since we are not in the financial realm to send Horsegirl to a private school here in Los Angeles, we console ourselves with the idea that as a loving and strong family, our daughter is protected from many of these negative factors. We pat ourselves on the back for our wonderful parenting. One really should never do that too soon.

Because then we discover that Horsegirl herself was struggling with adolescent issues which brought with it a new wave of frenetic coping to the family. I hope at one time to be able to write about these when they resolve (now is not the appropriate time), but in the meantime just open to the first chapter in Reviving Ophelia: Saving the Selves of Adolescent Girls and you'll get an idea of what life is like in my world.

You know, I read that book when my girls were really little. Took me while to get to it to -- not a real heart warmer, you know? I think I believed I could avoid the painful part of this phase by doing "everything right" earlier on. But, adolescence snuck up on me.

I don't really feel prepared for this phase: the high school, the life stage of my daughter, her challenges, my challenges, looming independence, dealing with the cold, cruel world -- one's confidence starts to plummet. I am much better at mothering babies, toddlers and younger kids -- I did feel confident. Now I sometimes feel like I am walking through a land with grenades hiding all through it. Small chance of getting through unscathed as an explosion of some sort is more than likely to be set off any point; I'm just trying keep damage to a minimum. As we move through this minefield of adolescence, the mission is keeping whole selves as intact as possible.

A life-saving device? The Mother-Daughter Group. Horsegirl and I belong to a Mother-Daughter Group based on the book The Mother-Daughter Project. The subtitle continues as, "How Mothers and Daughters Can Band Together, Beat the Odds and Thrive Through Adolescence". We began this group shortly before our daughters were ten and have been meeting for a little over five years now. Which, honestly, is an amazing commitment here in Los Angeles, the land of flakes.

Our group was starting to fall apart a little bit due to scheduling conflicts and the distance we live from each other -- the challenge of trying to bypass L.A. traffic and of finding a convergent time with all the scheduled activities was sometimes like trying to solve an intricate math problem. My concern about Horsegirl galvanized me to seek support from the other mothers of this group (okay, I basically begged that we continue for my own sanity and Horsegirl's sake) and we renewed a focused commitment to our group this year.

We began our year with a mother/mother meeting. Talking together we realized that our girls were challenged by similar feelings all expressed in different ways. Being in the supportive presence of these other women really bolstered me (although the menopause discussion left me a little concerned for my future). Seeking support is a definite weakness for me. I will suffer silently -- not always a great strength.

We decided that we had certain topics that we wanted to cover, but also felt that one thing our girls really needed during this anxious time was some extra TLC at home. Our other plan of action this year is to do fun activities together as a group which means a little more effort on our part (we're tired, you know?). But we felt that we need to set an example of positive and healthy good times. So far, so good.

Our Mother-Daughter Group gives us the chance to talk with our daughters about subjects that might not come up otherwise. As a group, we mothers we can broach issues that might feel embarrassing or taboo in a one-on-one setting. There is definitely strength in numbers. And our daughters have the opportunity to openly discuss issues on their minds. And hear responses in a supportive environment. As the girls have matured, we have had many in-depth discussions that I really don't think would have happened without this group.

I remember a mother who dropped out of the group stating that discussions were happening organically with her nine-year-old and that she didn't need a group. I can honestly say now that once your kid is a teenager, there aren't too many "organic" discussions of this nature. Teenagers are often secretive and developing their independence -- having a a formal group to discuss certain issues and topics is enormously helpful.

I am now on my second Mother-Daughter Group with the Bee (so I have two ongoing, different groups -- yes, my schedule is quite, uh, full. Thankfully I only have two kids). The difference between the two groups is readily apparent. The new group is a full of fresh, enthusiastic moms with their first group and they have lots of energy and project ideas (and then there is me -- believe me, I need their freshness!). My first group was the same way in the beginning. Now we are a little more tired. Life happens.

But, I am committed to both groups with whatever energy I can spare. A Mother-Daughter Group has so many benefits, some you may not even see until the time is right. If you have a daughter, I encourage you to read the book The Mother-Daughter Project and create a group in your own community. It's never too late to start a group, but it's easier when your daughter is in the open and enthusiastic ages between 7 and 10 years old. Creating a supportive community is beneficial to mom and beneficial to daughter.

Driving with Horsegirl to our monthly Mother-Daughter meetings, I will, of course, sometimes hear her teenage grumbling and complaining. Heck, I think it's a teenage developmental requirement. But in the end, my adolescent daughter knows we are committed to this group. Through my commitment to our M/D group, my commitment to her during this strange and trying journey of growing up becomes loud and clear. She is worth it.

And the Bells Ring Again

I'm feeling guilty right now. I'm sitting here when I should be doing any number of other projects. Not fun projects. It's all housework and organization -- like washing a sink full of morning dishes, putting the dry goods away from this morning's shopping and also all the dry goods left out in bags still from last week's grocery shopping or cleaning out the refrigerator (Again! Why does it always need to be purged and reorganized? Ugh.) So, I'll put it off for a little bit.

Actually, I'm not really sure what to do with myself right now. I'm not sure if I should be productive and get stuff done so that our home runs more efficiently (please stop laughing now) or whether I should just sit on my fat ass and relax for a few hours. I'm torn. See, I'm child-free for the next 2.5 hours. Well, if you count the time before, I've already been child-free since 8:15 a.m.

The Bee is at tennis camp -- today is her last day. Horse Girl started high school this morning.

I have to pause a moment just to let that settle in. My. Baby. Started. High. School.

I am not sure which is more shocking -- the fact that she is high-school-aged or that she is actually attending a high school. We've been homeschooling for the last five years. The last day of second grade, when the school year ended and we walked home from the school after informing the attendance office that we wouldn't be returning, was one of the best days of my life. I can still see it clearly in my mind and feel it distinctly in my body, walking home with the little Horse Girl. I felt relieved, elated and scared. Mixed emotions.

I feel the same today. Relieved, elated and scared. Having her return back to the school system has not been easy for me. I guess the difference for me this time around is that this was a choice that she made for herself.

I began this year investing in books like The Teenage Liberation Handbook, Real Lives: Eleven Teenagers Who Don't Go to School Tell Their Own Stories, and Homeschooling: The Teen Years. I felt committed to continuing the alternative education path that we had started for Horse Girl. Because of her passion for horses and the unique opportunities that arose for her due to educating her at home, I wanted to make sure that she would be able to continue to be able to take advantage of being homeschooled. I felt charged. I felt ready to take on the challenge. 

I also felt a little worried. I won't kid you. I'd read a lot of success stories. I'd read about un-schoolers and about letting your child find their own path. But, I never felt completely comfortable with the total un-schooling life style. I am not a rigid curriculum based homeschooler either. I've been more of an eclectic homeschooler -- some subjects the girls have had to do (math, writing, reading) and others we've bumbled around and tried out different things or followed their interests.

Frankly, as far as Horse Girl, I was getting a little burned out. I felt enthusiastic about learning Spanish together and bought a language program that we could both use. She initially wanted to learn German so she could talk with her cousin; I hesitated over that. I don't speak or know a lick of German, so I would be of absolutely no help to her. She also refused to spend time with friends of ours each week who did speak German. I really did not want to invest in an costly language program that would be languishing unused on our computer desktop -- I had a pretty strong hunch that this is what would result. So, I suggested we start with Spanish, her grandmother spoke five languages, so if she was able to show a commitment to Spanish (which I wanted to re-learn anyways) then I would invest in German. Spanish was also more practical for her with her work with horses.

Well, there wasn't much commitment to the Spanish program. Horse Girl did start it, but then did not want to work on the program on the computer stating that she liked working one-on-one with people. Okay, let's sit down and work together. But getting that accomplished was difficult as well. It's not easy roping a teen in away from Facebook, or looking at herself in the mirror or from episodes of day-dreaming. And then I had to hear ad nauseum about how much she disliked the Spanish teacher she had on Fridays with some friends -- mainly because she like another former teacher who was cooler and younger, but who could no longer teach their class.

I also bought her an expensive math curriculum with a DVD component so that she could work on her own with me helping to clarify things. I really was hoping she would be a little more self-sufficient and I thought she would enjoy that, too, so I wouldn't be breathing down her neck.  Well, that ended up with me completely teaching the math in private tutorial sessions. 

You know, you read about all those brilliant homeschoolers who are self-motivated and accomplish great things. Now, I'm not saying my girls aren't great -- they are -- they just don't want to do any of the educational things that my husband and I feel are important. Math is not optional. Period. Did I mention that I'm not an un-schooler? 

Right around the time that I was reading the aforementioned books and connecting with other homeschoolers to lock in a high school level English/writing class, alternating between fits of despair and moments of determined commitment, Horse Girl drops the bomb. She wants to try high school. And not for academic reasons.

I absorbed this information. I actually listened and didn't start on a long lecture of why I hate the school system. Amazing. Because inside I felt alarmed. And scared. But, I did check out the information on school's website and made an appointment for a school tour. When I mentioned it to the Entrepeneur he freaked out a bit. We got into an argument of course (I'm a first-born and he's an only, so there is always an argument.) So, I put the whole thing off for a while.

The Entrepeneur started checking out private girls schools for high school for Horse Girl. I informed him that the application process happened in October of last year. It was too late to apply. Not to mention, how exactly would we afford that? We'd have to start robbing banks. I'm a crappy con-artist, thief and lier, so I don't think that's a good profession for me.

Near Horse Girl's fourteenth birthday, something gets triggered in me. I look at the school website to find out specific information about registering for school and when the school tours are. I am horrified to find out that the application deadline for the school has passed. I'm thinking, "What the hell? Application DEADLINE? I thought this was a public school." I freak out. A whole torrent of self-accrimination launches forth in my mind. How I'm a terrible mother. How could I do this to my kid? On and on. You know the type of thoughts. Just don the hairshirt.

Of course, I ran into another mother that whose kid was already enrolled in the school for the next year. Our girls had been in pre-school and kindergarten together. She confirmed that the deadline had passed, the school was a charter school and didn't think there was much hope for us. We'd be forced to homeschool. I double freak. But, this also gave me a I-definitely-want-to-prove-you-wrong boost.

There were three more tours left during the school year for the school. I signed us up for the next one. On the day of the school tour, I kept an open mind (which is difficult for me on a school campus.) Horse Girl was there, too. She actually had classes that morning with other homeschoolers, so I had to "take her out of 'school' " to visit the high school. Which actually just meant that I was losing money. But, it was worth it.

It was kind of weird to see my tall, willowy girl wide-eyed, luminous and enthusiastic juxtaposed against most of the other kids who were there with their parents. You could tell most of the kids weren't too excited for the most part. They were forced to go to school. They were nice kids for sure, but they didn't have the same shining eyes as my kid.

Which meant, of course, that she loved it! Horse Girl definitely wanted to go to the high school. After the school tour, the Entrepeneur was enthusiastic, too. Once he knew his girl was happy. And, anyways, the school is his alma mater. So, that was pretty cool.

Not that we didn't have reservations. School would put a definite crimp on horsing activities and opportunities. We also didn't want Horse Girl to be academically marginalized in school -- school just seems to be so much about limitation and labeling rather than truly supporting our youngsters. And we didn't look forward having our family schedule owned by the school system. A big ugh.

But, despite these compromises, we supported our girl. We took Horse Girl to every school event that would give her an idea of being a freshman and being at the high school would be like: "Seniors Speak Out Night", a meeting about Honors  and AP classes meeting students and teachers (I have no idea whether she'll be in Honors classes or not, but wanted to put all possibilities on her radar) and the "Open House and Showcase Night."

I spent hours -- and I mean HOURS -- preparing her for the math placement exam. This was no easy feat. Horse Girl's hormones and teenage brain had taken over and math was at the bottom of the list of important subjects. It's rather demoralizing to spend 30 - 40 minutes teaching a particular math process only to be interrupted with a dreamy request to see if we have a particular ingredient in the house which can be used for a facial. Are. You. Kidding. Me.

Horse Girl still felt enthusiastic about going to school, though, despite having to prepare for the test. Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention. How was she going to go to school if she couldn't get in? After getting all the required documentation for the school together (which involved being stuck in the bank for two hours in the safety deposit box vault because our box lock broke; I was assured by the bank manager that this was a random event that happened every few years or so. How lucky could we possibly be?) Horse Girl and I walked in to the Administration Office to register her for the 2012-1013 school year. Since we were way post-deadline, I was prepared to do battle for my baby. Sorry to say it was very uneventful with her being duly accepted to the school as we were residents of the area, except that I learned that the lady who helped us had a homebirth with a midwife during the seventies. Interesting what you can learn about people.

So, now -- today -- right at this moment, Horse Girl is at school. It's 1:03 - so she either has Integrated Science or World History -- I can't remember which. But English is next. She was up until 10:30 p.m. finishing her Summer Reading Project for English (Really?! It's summer vacation. Don't get me started...) She is wearing her cool new boots and shirt that we bought yesterday ready to take on the high school world. The world of bell ringing and lots of homework. And boys. Sigh. That's probably the part that's the hardest.

So now my time is up. Soon the Entrepeneur and I have to pick up the Bee from tennis camp and enjoy the awards ceremony. Then we pick up Horse Girl at the library. I can't wait to find out how it went. I hope she got those gym clothes. I didn't get anything productive done at all. I did sit on my fat ass (said affectionately.) It was fun. But now, I'm late, hungry and duty calls.

Breastfeeding Beyond World Breastfeeding Week

Breastfeeding's on my brain. This past week has been World Breastfeeding Week celebrated this year from August 1st to August 7th. I feel a little guilty because I feel like I should be out there in public with a sign touting breastfeeding this week, but in the mom zone sometimes I just can't add one more thing to my life to organize and get together. And I don't even have a breastfeeding baby to tote along any more for all the Latch-Ons that are being organized.

My efforts to help mothers succeed at breastfeeding come from leading monthly breastfeeding support meetings, helping and supporting moms on the phone and through my childbirth education classes. Education and correct information help pave the way to successful breastfeeding, but the most crucial element is support. Each mother that I work with I can offer support to and by doing so help to her achieve her breastfeeding goals. So, I work quietly behind the scenes helping one-on-one.

I am disheartened by the current breastfeeding rates. When I read on the World Breastfeeding Week page that according to UNICEF's State of the World's Children Report 2011 only 32.7% of 136.7 million babies are exclusively breastfed in the first six months, I felt shocked. For the United States specifically, our report card is pretty lame -- only 14.8% of our babies are breastfed exclusively for the first six months. Here in California, the rates go up to a whopping 25.7%. We're double the national rate, but still way below where we need to be for our children. Only a quarter of our CA babies still breastfeeding exclusively at six months? This actually meets the Healthy People 2020 Breastfeeding Objectives - but why is the goal so low?

I feel passionately about the importance of breastfeeding. Yes, I know that breastfeeding has incredible health benefits for both the mother and the baby. Yes, I know that breastfeeding is good for the environment. Yes, I know that breast milk is the baby's normal food and that formula is better looked upon as a medicine to be used only when its truly needed. Yes, I know that breastfed babies generally have higher IQ's. I know that breastfeeding has many benefits.

Yet, the main reason I feel passionately about breastfeeding is for a reason that can't necessarily be measured in concrete terms. For me the real power of breastfeeding lies in the strength of connection and the sense of wholeness breastfeeding gives to each new little person born into to this world. A breastfeeding baby is living his biologically correct destiny -- he is designed to breastfeed. Breastfeeding meets his needs for food, for comfort and for connection. Breastfeeding fulfills his efforts at communicating; the breastfeeding mother who responds to her baby, nurses her baby, and holds her baby in her arms enables her child to feel wholly understood. A baby (or child) who feels understood feels good about himself and at peace with the world.

This is a depth of communication between a mother and her infant that can only be found through the act of breastfeeding. Breastfeeding is an intricate dance of mutual and reciprocal communication between mother and child. I suppose that would fall under the title heading of "bonding', which I hesitate to use here because it's not specific enough; it's easy for some to minimize breastfeeding's necessity in this role; certainly there are other ways of bonding besides breastfeeding. But the breastfeeding relationship is a very specific form of communication that is different from any other.

Part of feeling deeply attached to another person lies in good communication; for babies, good communication -- which lays the foundation for the baby's sense of self -- starts with breastfeeding. Biologically and emotionally a baby needs to breastfeed. When he is in a mutually responsive breastfeeding relationship, he learns that he has the power to make things happen; his attempts at communicating with mother, the sun at the center of his universe, are fulfilled and he feels good. The world needs more children who feel understood, at peace and good.

When a mother chooses not to breastfeed or weans her baby prematurely (which I would consider six months to be) she closes a door of communication. She breaks connection. She looses a tool that cultivates sensitivity and attunement that can help her communicate best with her child. Her child's best way of communicating and getting his needs met has been unplugged. His need for her can more easily be diverted to a less satisfying object like a bottle or pacifier; a bottle or pacifier can make it easier for the mother to focus on other things rather than holding her baby in her arms and connecting to him. It can make it more likely that she will be less sensitive to his needs and helping him develop a good sense of self which is found through positive interaction with her.

Breastfeeding reminds the mother to stay in communication with her baby. When the mother is exclusively breastfeeding there is no denying that she is essential to her baby -- she is the only one who can meet her baby's needs to connect and communicate in this very specific way that is so essential to his well-being. She is the only one who can empower him fully in this way, laying the groundwork for a healthy and balanced human being.

I nursed both my daughters for many years. This breastfeeding relationship was essential in helping me to understand my daughters' needs and to respond to them; I developed a more highly-tuned sensitivity to their needs and a deep level of communicating with them. In doing so, I helped them to develop a strong sense of themselves. I am not sure why I nursed so long (it certainly wasn't a goal of mine), except that it seemed to be important to them and I trusted that if they felt they needed to nurse, then it must be essential for their development. I know without a doubt that our relationship and their sense of self would have been much different without breastfeeding.

I do not blame or look down on mothers who nurse for less time. I understand that our society is very hostile to breastfeeding and makes it difficult. I understand our birth practices in the United States make it challenging for mothers and babies right from the get go. I know that formula marketing and the formula companies' priorities of putting profits before human health undermine breastfeeding. I understand that many families lack enough support after having a child to help them succeed at breastfeeding. Don't even get me started about the lack of maternity leave for our new mothers. I understand that there are many obstacles.

Yet, this understanding this does not make me feel less sad for the babies who are not being breastfed or are breastfed for only a very short time. This is doing a disservice to our children - a disservice to our future. This is doing a disservice to mothers who also can feel a great sense of empowerment at their ability to provide for their children's needs at their breast. Not breastfeeding is a loss all around on many levels.

Our babies need the sense of peace and well-being that the act of nursing at their mother's breast provides. Our babies need this essential act of communication that can help foster a heightened level of sensitivity that is found in the breastfeeding mother. Our world needs children who feel understood and who approach the world with openness and peace; in order to understand and feel empathy, our children need to experience it first -- experience it at the breast. We need to find a way to keep the doors of this vital form of communication open for our mothers and babies.

Today, World Breastfeeding Week ends, but each and every day it is our responsibility to help our sisters, our daughters, our neighbors and yes, even our enemies, to achieve breastfeeding success. This is the one of surest ways we can bring a balanced sense of self to our children -- helping them become persons with a strong and healthy sense of self balanced with empathy and understanding. Persons who can work on healing and restoring balance to our world. Persons who understand the value of life.

So today or tomorrow, whenever you next have the to blessing to witness a mother nursing her baby, give her an encouraging smile, a wink or even two thumbs up. Let's let mothers know we support and value their efforts.

The Sacred Mother in Every Mother

I love these beautiful statues found in a little grotto at Solstice Canyon, Malibu. I was bummed that some malcontent had wacked-off Mary's head since the last time I visited. Who would do that? Geez. 

But still, Mary symbolizes for me the sacred beauty of the Divine Feminine and the sacredness of all mothers, the givers and sustainers of life. And this poor injured Mary is still lovely. Mothers don't need to be perfect, do they? 

You're going to think I am going all Catholic on you today - I'm about to quote a Pope - but I've been too busy to write a longer post (gasping for a breath around here!), and I've been wanting to post this photo for a while and found this quote from a book my husband bought me from the Metropolitan Museum of Art The Art of Motherhood. 

The mother - let us kneel! - the mysterious source of human life, in whom, nature once again receives the breath of God, creator of the immortal soul.                        

Pope Paul VI 

Ah, the beautiful, sacred mother. That's all of us mothers. So, while you are nourishing your family (read: making yet another meal), folding laundry, washing dishes, playing chauffeur, wiping bottoms and snotty noses, or wishing for just a moment of peace, take some time to stand tall and proud and fully realize the momentousness of your bringing forth life.

Early humans used to think this was pretty damn important - the ability of women to birth the next generation. Early statues were of female forms often with big breasts and bellies. Really. I was reminded of this little fact at the Page Museum and the La Brea Tar Pits today as I went through the historical timeline of extinction.  Guess the reverence for moms went extinct, too. Sad.

But, listen Sister, I'm here to remind you that you are simply incredible - you goddess, you! I kneel to you...

The Real Junk on Food

Photo credit: Chichacha at Flikr

A Facebook friend shared a New York Times article, "Is Junk Food Really Cheaper?"
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/25/opinion/sunday/is-junk-food-really-cheaper.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1

This generated an interesting discussion. I was struck by the statement in the article, "The core problem is that cooking is defined as work, and fast food is both a pleasure and a crutch."

Um, Newsflash:  Cooking is work, not just defined as work. You can take my word for it. I cook for my family multiple times per day, day after day after day after day. I also have expertise due to my old employment; I was an actor - oh, excuse me - waitress. I worked in an establishment where I was actually paid to serve food cooked by people who were paid to cook. Imagine that! Now I cook and serve for free and will not get any professional credit for my efforts (sometimes I do get appreciation, as well as hugs and kisses.)

Let's get right to the heart of this problem. Cooking takes time. Planning meals takes time. Sigh, cleaning up takes time. Heck, cooking meals that you haven't planned takes even more energy and time. Sure, this should be a shared deal. Partners should pitch in a little more. Oh, I know - there is someone out there reading this whose husband actually cooks most of the meals in their family or maybe even does 50% of the load. Please give me a moment while I pick myself off the floor and then go grab a hankie. I am happy for you, really I am. Let me take this moment to remind you of how very lucky you are and then get back to reality here. In most households women do the cooking.

Photo courtesy of Flickr

If my husband were to do most of the cooking, it would be meat and potatoes (probably fries) with nary a vegetable in sight. Maybe a salad once in while. But none of those dark, leafy greens. No whole grains. A definitely nothing tantalizing to the palate. This is just not my guy's strength or interest. Just like I have absolutely no desire to learn how to change the brakes on our car - of course, that doesn't have to be done as often as cooking - but you know what I mean.  He's also working his butt off to support our family while I stay home with the kids.

Photo credit to Jesper at Flickr

Which gets me back to the point that I wanted to make which is that staying home, cooking  and caring for your family is work. Real bonafide work - because if you aren't doing it, you are paying someone to do it. Or you are paying the price - like the price to one's health by not eating healthy, fresh foods. Throughout history women have traditionally been the experts in the kitchen - knowing how to cook and make fresh foods. But, I am sorry to say that the work of women has been devalued by our society on so many levels. Is it really surprising that stressed, over-worked women don't feel like putting in the effort? If the effort needed to healthfully feed our children, our partners, our families counts for nothing by society (and I am stating this because at this present time I do not think that this is something that can be put on one's resume) can we really be surprised by the serious health and behavior problems caused by eating junk foods? I think not.

Certainly, each of us bears personal responsibility for food choices. But I strongly believe that there is a societal responsibility as well to create the support and the environment that encourages the healthy eating of real food. Let's start by honoring, truly valuing the work of and creating real social support for those who do most of the cooking: Mothers.