A Few Good Breakfasts. Gluten Free and Feingold Friendly!

Since diving into this strange, new diet plan here are some of the breakfast foods I've devised.

- Plain old eggs with salt and pepper

- Plain Greek Yogurt from Kirkland (Costco) topped with:

   * Kashi's Simply Maize Organic Corn Cereal 

   * Feingold friendly fruits like: banana and mango

   * or mixed with JIF creamy peanut butter

- Kashi's Simply Maize cereal with milk

- Hodgson Mill's Buckwheat Creamy Hot Cereal topped with
  * Feingold friendly fruits like: banana and mango
  * Brown sugar

- Envirokidz's Peanut Butter Panda Puffs cereal with milk

- Your choice of gluten free, preservative free bread with Earth Balance Organic Coconut Spread or JIF.
  * Honestly, I haven't found a very great GF, preservative free, dye free, etc. bread yet... Maybe because I love real bread so much? But the coconut spread is pretty darn good anyhow. Just keep it on your radar.

- Baked pears and bananas by themselves, over GF toast, or on the buckwheat hot cereal
  * Preheat oven to 400F
  * Place halved pears face-down on a baking sheet and bake for about 15 minutes OR until the skin starts to wrinkle/pucker.
  * Slice bananas, brush with melted coconut spread or butter, bake on a sheet for 10 minutes or until they look smooshy and sweet enough for your liking. You can also cook banana slices in a pan, 1 minute on each side.

Have more ideas? Share them below!

Thoughts from a feminist misfit

         I am a Christian, pro-life feminist. Concerning the charged topic of abortion, I don't expect everyone to think or believe the same way I do. I disagree with the prevailing feminist assertion that "any abortion is a legitimate abortion because any choice a woman makes concerning her own body is a legitimate one." But I realize I'm an anomalous "conservative feminist" and try to keep my mind open to understand where others are coming from when more liberal feminism conflicts with my conservatism.

          So recently a post from a feminist blog about abortion led me down a comment thread that... surprised me. The topic was de-stigmatizing open discussion of one's abortion(s) based on the statistic that 1 in 3 American women will have an abortion in their reproductive lifetime. The post observed that some women regret it and others don't, but regardless of your stance on the morality of abortion, as an inherently invasive procedure that can have lasting physical and emotional repercussions, women should have an outlet to discuss their experiences in a therapeutic way without all the shame and vitriol surrounding the topic currently.

          As a feminist, I can agree with that sentiment. It has nothing to do with putting my stamp of approval on abortion, but everything to do with letting those who need to heal, heal. In a purely feminist sense, women who have an abortion face all kinds of societal flack while it's rare that such judgment is hurled toward the men involved. But especially in a Christian sense, I know there are those who feel beyond the fellowship of others because of such an experience that feels off-limits to discuss, even in terms of regret.

          So I read the comments and took them with a grain of salt.  I thought I knew what to expect, but then came the curve ball comments that surprised me. Not because there were so many women describing their own experiences with abortion (though that didn't make my day), but because of one of the ways that a several women framed it.

          First, at least three women described their situations as terminating a pregnancy earlier, but now being married with one or more children. One woman's sentiment was that she is open with her children about her past abortion, because that way they can know that she really wanted them and loves them and planned them intentionally. She wrote:

Yes, I have talked openly about my abortion - and about what a positive experience it was. I also like to make the point that my children will always know that they weren't an "accident" although they weren't planned. I chose to continue my pregnancies because I wanted them.

         
          Others, evidently, agreed with this line of thought, giving it 33 "thumbs up." Another mother wrote that she and her husband almost decided to have an abortion, but didn't-- and later provided this story to her daughter as a means of showing the daughter how giving her life was a conscious choice, even though other options were considered. It was meant as a testament to how much the daughter was loved and wanted. Other readers also seemed to appreciate this woman's thoughts.

Only one other person had a similar reaction to my own:

Oh dear God. "Thanks for not killing me, Mom!" You're going to hear those words and get the warm and fuzzies?

...which got got zero thumbs up.

          Though I consider myself part of the pro-life/pro-child camp, I'm not going to sling mud at anyone who's made a heart-rending choice like abortion. It's not my place. That said, I was thinking the same thing as the unpopular reader directly above-- it sounds off to want your current kids to feel *extra* loved based on the fact that you didn't abort them. So the children you do birth will be buoyed up knowing that there were other embryos/fetuses that didn't make the cut? Erm, no. I felt icky reading that.

          It's one thing to desire a society in which women who have had an abortion can discuss their difficult and painful experiences without a host of people lining up to judge and condemn them. That's entirely different from desiring a society in which abortion should be considered so common that we celebrate children who are chosen (and expect them to celebrate, too), because it reflects the ultimate empowerment of women as keepers of their own bodies and lives. That's a philosophical approach to "progressive thinking," conscientious child-bearing, and womanhood that disturbs me.

And the fact that there were so many virtual head nods and only one other incredulous voice... Evidently I'm a feminist misfit.

I Am the Pregnant Rhino

 

    I don't remember being so edgy during my first pregnancy. I remember slogging through morning sickness, getting overly-emotional about random things (I cried more than once because the grocery store had "too many kinds of ice cream" and I couldn't choose), and going through what seemed like normal pregnancy mood swings where I could take a nap and feel better.

     This go-round, my hormones have thrown me for a real loop. I think my moods are pretty normal-- or at least they would be normal if I were a pregnant rhinoceros. It's not just that I'm easily displeased, but that I feel the need to exact senseless revenge on the thing that has displeased me.

Ridiculous Example:

     On Wednesday, I scoured Yelp for "the food" that I needed that day. It ended up being carne asada fries: french fries adorned with melted cheese and guacamole, drizzled with crema fresca, and endowed with heaps of juicy carne asada. The pictures posted by customers set expectations high. When I got mine, something was... off. The cheese was all on one side, making all those fries stick together. I pulled on a loose end and the fry broke; I pulled on another fry and it, too, broke off leaving the majority of its goodness trapped in an impregnable blob of cheese. I felt the rage well up, so I decided to turn my attention to other merits of the fries: the meat. I scooped some up with a fork and dipped it in the crema fresca. Horror of horrors, it was crumbly and dry. "Bubble-bubble-bubble," simmered my hormone-infested blood.

     Most people would be like, "Man, that's disappointing," and move on with their lives. I turned into the incredible Hulk: "Aaaargh! These fries are WRONG! You stupid, stupid fries!!!"

     And then I sat there, hating them. The fries remained unimpressed with my rage (obviously to be expected... for a normal person) and that made me even angrier. There they sat, mocking my palate's hopes and dreams. Still cheese-blobby and covered in dry meat.

     This is where the rhino bit comes into play. Because as a quasi-petite human, it's just so frustrating not being able to do something dramatic and impressive to give body to such frustrations. See, in my mind's eye, I imagined how satsifying it would be to be a rhinoceros, get upset, and trample whatever it is that ticks you off. I would have given anything to be able to trample those contemptible fries right then. Just kick up some dust, demolish them with 3,000 lbs of preggo fury, and snort with disdain at the memory of their mediocrity.

     Wouldn't that be great?

     And pregnant rhinos (as opposed to pregnant humans who yell at their food) can pretty much get away with anything without sideways glances from others. Something makes her mad, she tramples it, and everyone's like, "Well, whattya expect? You shouldn't tick off a pregnant rhino."

The real--and only--moral of this story is that you need to pray for my dear, dear husband...

...Because, while I have yet to trample anyone/anything around here, I suspect that some days it would be nice for him if he could keep me in a walled enclosure, or at the very least holster some tranquilizer darts in the event that one day my fries have too much cheese on one side, or my pants are too tight, or my socks are uncomfy, etc.