Popcorn Lung

A few months ago I heard about this new ailment called Popcorn Lung. Basically it occurs when workers in the microwave popcorn plants breathe in all of the chemicals that line the microwave popcorn bags. Funny that the companies publicly stated that the chemicals that line the microwave popcorn bags are safe for consumers. Does that sound right to anyone else?

The whole thing sounds nasty. It made me think twice about microwave popcorn. But it didn't scare me enough to stop eating it.

My Little Guy is really sensitive to food additives and food dyes. He can't eat conventional salad dressing, cream cheese and surprise...microwave popcorn. So lazy me started buying the organic brands. Little Guy seemed fine with the organic brands.

Then I got popcorn lung.

On a recent afternoon, when the entire neighborhood was playing at my house, I popped-up some microwave popcorn. It's an easy and cheap way to feed a ton of kids. I leaned over the bag to pull it open....Breathed in....and the popcorn lung hit.

Coughing. Hacking. Tight chest. I completely talked myself into believing that I caught the popcorn lung.

After the popcorn lung incident decided to buy a jar unpopped popcorn kernels. Supposedly, they can be cooked in a large pan on the stove top. Lies again I tell you. I got burned, crunchy, kernels.

Next, I bought an air popper. It is my new best friend. Basically you put in a half of a cup of kernels. Plug in the machine. And out pops a huge bowl of perfectly popped popcorn. No popcorn lung inducing chemicals. Feeds six neighbor kids snack in under five minutes. Amazing.

With all of the renewed talk of clones and genetically modified vegetables, I'm now wondering if I'm somehow modifying the DNA of all of the neighbor kids with my most-likely genitally modified corn. Children of the corn. (groan here)

I can't win.

And The After

A few readers said they were interested in seeing the after of my guest bathroom redo. Well here it is...

I used a zero VOC paint. Reused old paint brushes. Added a live plant. Freecycled the old mirror.

Now I am trying to sell my old light fixture and drawer pulls on Craig's List. The problem with the Hartford Craig's List is that it is really underused. If the light and pulls sit for too long, then I will eventually donate them.

Overall, this redo was a good balance between my yuppie and granola self.

If you are interested in reading about how this supposedly easy bathroom makeover was anything but, you can check out the original post here. How come home improvement projects are never as easy as Ty Pennington leads us to believe?

Grab Your Snorkel

Last night I went out with a group of friends for drinks and food. Even though we are all well past the baby stage, talk turned to births. In relation to these friends I am definitely the most granola of the crew, so I was surprised to hear that these other woman preferred midwives over OBs. Even the doctor and nurse in the crew said that they would trust a midwife over a doctor for their pregnancy.

That got me thinking about something that changed my life for the better. Something that I wish was available to every pregnant woman out there.

During the birth of my Girlie I craved to be in the water. Water is healing. My instincts told me to find water. The only water that I could get into at the hospital was the shower. I stayed in that shower until way after my skin pruned. I stayed in that shower until the mean nurse pulled me out. That water was the only thing that calmed me down and took away the pain.

When planning my little guy's birth I remembered just how much that shower stream healed me. I dreamed of laboring and delivering in a warm birthing tub with a midwife in attendance.

My wish came true and my sweet Little Guy was born in a birthing tub with myself and my hubby. My mummy was there to see him first. Everything was exactly as I wanted it to be.

Waterbirth International is a wonderful site filled with birth stories, videos and information. Check out the "I was born in water" registry too.

As for the "Snorkel", my extended family is very into nicknames. Snorkel is my Little Guy's name because he was born in the water.

Are you wondering what my nickname is? Coo Nana Bandanna. I have no idea what my family was thinking...

History Lesson with Abby

Now that my Gilrlie has grown out of little girlie sizes, it has been tough finding cute and appropriate clothing for her. It is almost like clothing retailers think that after kids pass that size 5 mark they should be dressing like teenagers. Even the organic tee companies with the great sayings have forgotten the elementary school set.

One day I was surfing around http://www.etsy.com/ when I found the cutest screeenprinted Abigail Adams shirt. Just like the rest of the retailers, this etsy artist only advertised the shirt in sizes 2 through 6. My Girlie usually wears a 10 in tee shirts. I emailed the artist and she agreed to make a size 10 Abigail Adams shirt for girlie.

When the shirt arrived, Girlie and I sat down together to find out more about old Abby Adams. Turns out she grew-up near where I grew-up. She wasn't formally educated, but was very smart. Abby was very outspoken when it came to woman's rights. Particularly for more opportunities for women in education. Abby spoke out against slavery. Pretty cool for the late 1700's!

Just as many of us wives realize to be true today, it is believed that Abigail had a lot of influence over her husband's decisions during his presidency.

My Gilrie proudly wears her Abigail Adams shirt often. Take that Barbie and Bratz! Take that Hannah and Zach!

Would You Eat A Clone?

The FDA in all of their wisdom has publicly declared that eating food from cloned animals and their offspring is safe. cloned meat

Does this news make anyone else’s head start to spin? What are the implications? We modify the genes of animals then we eat their meat or drink their milk. What happens to our genes? Our bodies?

I don’t have a ton of scientific facts and figures yet. I do have this feeling in my mummy gut that consuming cloned animals is wrong for our bodies.

Back in middle school I read The Jungle by Upton Sinclair. The Jungle is a graphic book about the slaughterhouses in Chicago. Ever since that book, meat has always made me more than a little queasy.

Presently my meat consumption is relatively low. This may be the news that pushes me over the edge to vegetarianism.

So how do I get unlazy and do this for my family? Maybe I can set a goal of preparing three meatless dinners per week for the family? That seems doable. Then I can gradually step-up as I become more educated.

Recently I did find a blog with vegetarian recipes. That should help. If there was a vegetarian restaurant close by that would be a huge help in introducing me to new foods. No such luck there.

All of this talk about cloning makes me wonder if this will also open eyes on just how much of our food supply is now genetically modified. Will others start to ask questions and begin to refuse to buy?

Keywords Make Me Laugh

A few months ago I learned about this stalker software that you can attach to your blog. "Stalker software" isn't the real name of the software, but that's what it feels like.

Anyway, I can't really figure out how to use most of this software. When I click on my blog it sometimes shows up like I live in Massachusetts. Sometimes nothing shows up.

I can create a map of where my readers may or may not live. That is pretty cool. It's been a great geography lesson for me. Can anyone else point to the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia?

This software also displays the key word searches that allow new people to find Gruppie Girl. The key word searches can be both hysterical and disturbing. Here are a few of the recent keywords;

"i heart pie" The person who searched this one must really love pie. Maybe they made a squash pie after reading my post?

"big girlies" is an example of the disturbing. I don't want to know what they were looking for with this one.

"how to fix a stuck pull chain" Sorry, but no advice here. I pull on the ceiling fan chain once in the fall to make the ceiling fan travel clockwise and once in the summer to change the direction to counterclockwise.

"recycline toothbrushes" this search may be one of the only searches that brought the googler to any real information on my blog.

"free compost bins Connecticut" I wish. If this reader find out that they are giving away free compost bins, please let me know. I could use another one.

"smooze" I'm really not good at this one. What's you sign baby?

"green parents" Mine are trying. Mummy brought her handmade pear bag to Target last week.

"gruppie" Maybe I'm not alone out there. Could there be other gruppies?

Recycle Thy Neighbor

My family of four has worked hard to get down to one trash barrel each week. We were just over the one barrel until our town started recycling cereal and granola bar boxes. Trying to make more homemade whole foods instead of buying prepackaged foods is a goal for...ummm...later in the year.

So I have a neighbor family on my street who creates five barrels of trash each week. Two adults and two little ones live there. Not a football team like a passerby might guess.

Not surprisingly, this family does not recycle. Ever.

Each Sunday night as I take my trash and recyclables to the curb I take a minute to gaze upon the neighbor's pile of trash and think about how to approach the situation.

Last week I made my move. Together we were walking around the block with the kids and I mentioned that I noticed that she hasn't recycled and I was wondering if I could pick-up a recycling bin for her if she was interested.

Knock me over with a feather. This friendly neighbor was so responsive. She said that she was just too busy to find out how to obtain a bin (I believe it!) and didn't know what could be recycled. This neighbor even confessed that my 4 year old Little Guy once pulled some trash out of her barrel and told her that it was recyclable.

A few days later I grabbed a brown paper bag and wrote a list of what paper products can be recycled right on it. Tomorrow I am going to head over to the town garage and pick-up a recycling bin. I'm trying not to move to fast so as not to out too much pressure on her.

Now I'm not advocating guerrilla tactics on unsuspecting neighbors who need a recycling lesson. But in my case a non-judgemental conversation worked wonders.