Thursday, April 30, 2009

Breaking News!

Direct from my brother ... Professor at Rutgers and the smartest person I know ... so it MUST be true...

"In case you did not hear, the CDC has identified the source of the swine flu outbreak (or "patient zero" in their parlance). A picture of the patient has been released but name has been withheld to protect privacy. (see photo above)
I don't think their advice to "wash hands thoroughly" will suffice in this case."

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

"Neither do (wo)men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house." Matthew 5:15 with slight modification by Kovar

I know that you all have likely seen this many times, and heard all the fuss in the press.

https://mail.wku.edu/Redirect/www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY&feature=related

Well, I was led to think about this from a totally different perspective. What if Susan Boyle had looked in the mirror one day and said, "You are an unattractive cow. Stay home, stay out of the way, and don't embarrass yourself."

How many times do we (and I mean all women) judge ourselves critically. Especially if we choose the parameteres that American society has set for measuring the worth of a woman.

Speaking for myself, it goes something like this: "My chest is too small, my hips are too big, my butt..well lets just say I've seen drive-in movie screens with less breadth. My hair never behaves, my eyes are too close together, I have no clue how to apply make-up, and my nose made Jimmy Durante jealous (God rest his soul). I still get acne. My teeth are showing their age by yellowing, and I don't have enough discipline to use white strips. I laugh like a donkey and don't seem to be smart enough to fit in with these PhD folk. I need to be quiet and behave like a lady."

Bullshit. We need to hold on to our dream. No, not hold on to, we need to chase that puppy. And swing our hips because we believe we are as saucy as any other woman. We are not our eyebrows (and Susan Boyle does have some bodacious eyebrows), we are not our employment status, nor our hair that is (choose one) too thick, too thin, too curly, too straight, or between good lengths.

Talk about being more than the sum of our parts!

We need to be just who God created us to be. For Susan Boyle that is a singer, whose songs I will download with glee. Oh, to teach young women the joy of being REAL!

According to Christine Aguilera:

I am beautiful no matter what they say
Words can't bring me down
I am beautiful in every single way

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Memories

Recently, a friend was bemoaning her loss of memory. Recent, as in first noticed soon after she had an affirmative + sign on the home pregnancy test. Recent, as in even more intense since she was asked, “Do twins run in your family?” Many women believe that they become more forgetful during pregnancy: a new study by Australian researchers suggests that they are right - and that their memory can be significantly impaired for at least a year after giving birth.

Until recently, much of the evidence for pregnancy-related memory deficits was either anecdotal or based on subjective reports. The new study, published recently in the Journal of Clinical and Experimental Neuropsychology, is the first to assemble and analyze data from a wide range of scientific studies into the phenomenon.

The results indicate that the impairment - dubbed "baby brain" - is still evident a year after childbirth. Since none of the studies has extended beyond that time, scientists claim not to know how long the deficit continues.

Nor do scientists understand why a woman's memory should be impaired at such an important time, although several theories have been put forward.

Luckily, readers of this blog are about to be on the front row of a scientific breakthrough: Baby brain is the fault of Albert Einstein.
It all has to do with the Law of the Conservation of Matter. Those with a scientific interest are well aware of this fundamental principle of physics: that matter cannot be created or destroyed in an isolated system (with apologies to Dr. Einstein for my abbreviated definition).

Is there any better example of an isolated system than a gestating woman?

It boils down to this. As the baby, or in this case babies, grow in the mother’s uterus we have a veritable explosion of new cells. We’re talking placenta, lots of amniotic fluid, extra breast tissue, some additional fat stores, and last-but-not-least the piece-de-resistance – BABY. If we follow the laws of physics, and really what other choice do we have, there must be a counterbalancing diminution of cells within the isolated system. Enter into the equation the mother’s brain. Yes, it is official, mothers lose brain cells with every pregnancy. And the really bad news? They don’t come back (brain cells that is).

This is why after a first pregnancy, new mothers note that they have more difficulty assembling all the items needed to leave the house; car keys are misplaced; and there is no recollection of a good night’s sleep. The second pregnancy results in more irretrievable brain cell loss. For instance, mothers feel an increasing need to write things down so that task won’t be forgotten (eg. “Wash face, brush teeth.” “Eat”) It is no coincidence that more post-it notes are sold to households with two or more children than to all the Fortune 500 companies combined. The problem is as with all home/office supplies, mothers can never find them once purchased. Somewhere in most family homes lies an enormous pile of post-it notes, tape, pencils, pens, and notepads. Meanwhile, we take phone messages by using a frozen chocolate chip to write on the side of the refrigerator.

By the third pregnancy the issue is noticeable even to strangers. When asked the expected date of arrival for the new baby, mothers awaiting the birth of number three have been known to say “2009.” Mothers cannot recall their own child’s name, resulting in the “litany of the sinners” frequently heard in homes everywhere, “Tommy, Michael, Jason, Fred, Chad, Alex…you know who you are! GET DOWN FROM THERE!” (Child’s name is actually “Joe, Jr.”) When leaving for vacation Moms no longer ask, “Did I unplug the coffee pot?” That’s a post first pregnancy level question. No, after #3 we hear, “It’s YOUR turn to count. They are all back there aren’t they?” I’m sure that third pregnancy syndrome was the cause of my niece Jessica being left at the picnic area after a long ago family gathering. Don’t panic, she was twelve at the time, but still…

For my friend, the news is nearly tragic. From a competent educator, recently enrolled in a prestigious PhD program, she will soon be reduced to attempting to deposit grocery coupons at the bank drive through and wandering mall parking structures hoping to locate her car by pushing the remote and hoping to hear a friendly chirp of the horn. With twins, she jumps directly into Level 2 brain cell loss.

To her husband, good-old “What’s His Name,” be proactive! Stock up on Post-It notes. Investigate whether infants can be microchiped at the vet’s office. And start wearing a name tag – who you are will soon be the least of her worries.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Animal House


I came home the other day to find Emily’s cat, Sugar, on the family room porch, balanced on the back of the beautiful porch swing, staring into the window of the family room, looking for someone to let her in. My question is: How do animals learn the concept of a window? Sugar is not the first family pet to demonstrate this understanding.

Matt’s first cat, Claire, had this concept down pat as well. When we lived in the Virgin Islands we had a very interesting experience with a stray dog, who became the family pet, Sammy. To make a long story short…Sammy wandered into our yard, bone thin and thirsty. We made the mistake of taking pity on the poor guy and fed him. Well, on Day 3 he had apparently received enough nutrition and hydration to realize, “Why that’s a CAT!” And even worse, “I LOVE to chase cats!” The next sound we heard was a loud bark, followed by an even louder cat yowl. A streak of calico cat flew by the dining room window followed by a blur of white and brown “coconut retriever”. On the heels of this sight was the sound of a panicked Matt, “Oh no! Claire’s scared of Sammy!” (He always was a master of understatement)

A three hour search ensued, but to no avail. Claire had disappeared into the thick green untamed island foliage surrounding the house. Matt was heartbroken, Sammy was in time out, and Steve and I were thoroughly embarrassed. We’d sequestered our dinner guest (our pastor) in the hurricane shelter with Sammy while we’d searched. We knew Claire would never come home if he was out and about (the dog that is, not the priest).

Fast forward to the middle of the night. Our bedroom windows are open to let the soft, cool tradewind flow in. The soothing melody of the tree frogs is suddenly broken by two syllables: “Me-ow”. I push up on one arm, look out the window, and there…balanced on the 1” width of the wrought iron handrail… is Claire. Despite the low light of only a quarter-moon, she has found our bedroom window and is summoning us to open the door.

How did she know how to do that? To understand where we were and to understand that the window was a means of communicating with us?

Golden Retriever, Lucy, spends her days sitting at one of the dining room windows watching the street in front of the house. She’s like Gladys from “Bewitched”, there isn’t a single neighborhood action that she isn’t aware of. Unlike Gladys, she doesn’t share the info with anyone (that we know of). She clearly understands that this is life, rather than a TV show, as she heads toward the door when she spies her favorite human, Steve, approach the house.

Hmmm. Since the pets use the windows, do you think they’ll help clean them?