The Good News Show

We call CBS Sunday Morning the "Good News Show." It is the one and only news magazine type show I have found that focuses on all positive, uplifting news stories. Good news actually does exist out there even if it's hard to find on most news shows.

We DVR the show each Sunday morning and watch it sometime later, usually with the kids. They love it too and were the ones who gave it its nickname. In addition to the positive stories, each episode ends with footage of some beautiful, nature scene accompanied by nature's soundtrack: chirping birds, whispering wind, babbling brooks. It's a 30-second, peaceful reminder of the simple beauty that abounds in our country and a pleasing offset to the chirping and babbling that occurs on most other news-type shows.

The Good News Show had a very interesting and amazing story this past Sunday. Seems a 17-year-old high school student has potentially found a cure for cancer in her spare time. Angela Zhang wrote a research paper which she shared with her chemistry teacher. The paper contained a recipe for curing cancer. Quoting from the CBS news interview,

Angela's idea was to mix cancer medicine in a polymer that would attach to nanoparticles -- nanoparticles that would then attach to cancer cells and show up on an MRI. so doctors could see exactly where the tumors are. Then she thought that if you aimed an infrared light at the tumors to melt the polymer and release the medicine, thus killing the cancer cells while leaving healthy cells completely unharmed.

Since her initial research paper, Angela's idea has been tested in Stanford University labs where the tumors in mice have almost completely disappeared when exposed to Angela's recipe. Maybe by the time Angela finishes her future doctorate, we'll know if her recipe works on human cells.

Now if that's not good news, I don't know what is.

See the whole story at the CBS Sunday Morning site.

Text Messaging with My Kids

Our kids are too young to be into texting the way some tweens and all teens are. But one (or both) of them found a way to text me old school.

I was surprised to find that message on my apparently not so secret chocolate stash.

Bet the culprit or two will be surprised to find this message I left for him...or them.

I could have left one of these messages:

U R Ded!

or

C U in the wood shed!

or

Not 4 U!

I'll save those messages for their next visit to my stash. I've counted the remaining pieces. Is that bad?

Sunday Schooled - Myth Busters

Welcome to the first installment of Sunday Schooled 2012. This is where I share newly found information gained through my parenting adventures. Sunday Schooled is where I expose my pure ignorance and the accompanying bliss that is ruined by my newfound knowledge.

Today is a health lesson courtesy of my youngest son.

Helios,being full of limitless boy energy, unsuccessfully took a leap from atop our backyard picnic table. The jump was unsuccessful in that he landed a bit wonkily on his ankle. It immediately swelled. We immediately iced, elevated it and started Motrin. He was able to walk on the bum leg and by the next day was running. So no worries, right? My husband and I assumed it was just a sprain. From our medical experience, if you can walk on it, it's a sprain. If you can't walk on it, it's broken.

The pesky swelling held fast so we bought ourselves a visit to the pediatrian, a visit to the orthopedist, an x-ray, and two co-pays. And a walking cast and a stylish velcro boot.

Apparently, the human body has changed a lot since back in the days when my husband and I were spraining ankles left and right. Or left and right ankles as it were. Seems these days the "walk equals sprain/no walk equals broken" has been labeled a myth. Seems that kids have things called growth plates at the ends of certain long bones. Seems these cartilaginous growth plates can break and the kid can still walk, run and play kickball...for a day or five.

Yes, for five days we let our child, with his unknown cracked growth plate, walk, run, play kickball and do all the other things eight year-olds do with their intact growth plates. And he seemed fine; which only supports another myth I like to perpetuate which is that kids are made of rubber. Our orthopedist shot that one down too.

Just so we don't appear completely neglectful, the pediatrician visit was on day 2 and they apparently still follow the "walk equals sprain" theory. Hmmmm.

The end of the story is that Helios gets to wear a walking cast for four weeks. His biggest concern is that he can't play kickball at recess during that time. I personally find that a benefit given this new information regarding growth plates and kids not being made of rubber.

Sticks and stones may break my bones but what about my growth plates???

Sunday Schooled - Myth Busters

Welcome to the first installment of Sunday Schooled 2012. This is where I share newly found information gained through my parenting adventures. Sunday Schooled is where I expose my pure ignorance and the accompanying bliss that is ruined by my newfound knowledge.

Today is a health lesson courtesy of my youngest son.

Helios,being full of limitless boy energy, unsuccessfully took a leap from atop our backyard picnic table. The jump was unsuccessful in that he landed a bit wonkily on his ankle. It immediately swelled. We immediately iced, elevated it and started Motrin. He was able to walk on the bum leg and by the next day was running. So no worries, right? My husband and I assumed it was just a sprain. From our medical experience, if you can walk on it, it's a sprain. If you can't walk on it, it's broken.

The pesky swelling held fast so we bought ourselves a visit to the pediatrian, a visit to the orthopedist, an x-ray, and two co-pays. And a walking cast and a stylish velcro boot.

Apparently, the human body has changed a lot since back in the days when my husband and I were spraining ankles left and right. Or left and right ankles as it were. Seems these days the "walk equals sprain/no walk equals broken" has been labeled a myth. Seems that kids have things called growth plates at the ends of certain long bones. Seems these cartilaginous growth plates can break and the kid can still walk, run and play kickball...for a day or five.

Yes, for five days we let our child, with his unknown cracked growth plate, walk, run, play kickball and do all the other things eight year-olds do with their intact growth plates. And he seemed fine; which only supports another myth I like to perpetuate which is that kids are made of rubber. Our orthopedist shot that one down too.

Just so we don't appear completely neglectful, the pediatrician visit was on day 2 and they apparently still follow the "walk equals sprain" theory. Hmmmm.

The end of the story is that Helios gets to wear a walking cast for four weeks. His biggest concern is that he can't play kickball at recess during that time. I personally find that a benefit given this new information regarding growth plates and kids not being made of rubber.

Sticks and stones may break my bones but what about my growth plates???

What Evil Lurks?

I am sure you are wondering what beast could have done such damage in our home. Remember this from just yesterday?

What creature could have shredded that very important white thing beyond all recognition? What evil did we willingly bring into our home only to be rewarded with destruction of property? It's not what, it's who...

It was Delta the MicroHound.

Delta only stands a mere seven inches tall. Really, just look at how she fits perfectly on her tennis ball.


It's hard to believe such tiny dog with such a sweet face could have caused such damage.

I'm not sure I buy it. I think it was the cat.

Did I Mention...

.... we got a dog?

Roots Run Deep

Most people don't like going to the dentist. I however don't mind it and don't have the fears or apprehensions that many people have about dental procedures. I find a visit to the dentist relaxing. Maybe I am chronically tired but I actually fall asleep during certain dental procedures. Cleanings rank with spa visits on the relaxation scale for me. Truly, I was in a meditative state when my braces were installed and removed. I think it all revolves around the comfy reclining chair and finally sitting still for more than a few seconds. The same thing happens to me in movie theatres just after the previews and on our couch after 8pm.

But yesterday, I was on the observation side of a dental procedure, the less relaxing side. My oldest son, Leonardo, had two teeth pulled in preparation for braces. Watching all the poking with needles and tugging with tools that looked better suited for an auto shop than a dental office didn't allow for my usual dental office nap. Plus I had to sit in a hard, straight-backed chair. Who can rest under those conditions?

Leonardo handled the situation like a champ. Of course, who doesn't feel awash with Zen and over confidence under the grasp of nitrous oxide? He was calm throughout, even when they had to give him two extra shots of novocaine. Even when the dentist asked for the forceps by name and out loud instead of in double secret pediatric dental jargon (i.e. Mr. Gentle Tugs), Leonardo kept his cool. I, on the other hand, was on the edge of my hard, straight-backed wooden seat, wishing it were me in the chair instead of my son. At least then I could sleep through it.

The two teeth to be pulled were baby molars and their absence will provide some necessary extra room in his very narrow mouth. While these teeth would have come out in their own time, we, by that I mean the orthodontist, wanted them out on another time schedule. When left to their own devices, the roots of baby teeth generally dissolve inside the gums, the teeth get loose and then come out. Since these teeth were being asked to leave on our time schedule rather than their own, the roots had not fully dissolved. By that I mean, these teeth were securely clamped into Leondardo's gums similar to the way my white-knuckled hands were gripping the edge of my very uncomfortable chair during the extraction, as it is called in the dental world.

A half inch doesn't sound like much, does it? It's not if we're talking hair length or hemlines. But put a half inch in the context of dentristy and it becomes a big amount. This is what Leonardo and his dentist were dealing with yesterday:  a half inch of tooth and root.

I always wanted my sons' roots to run deep but this isn't what I had in mind. After much work by Mr. Gentle Tugs, out came Mr. Death Grip and his side kick Lil' Stubborn Roots. They were laid to rest in this cute little treasure box.

Thankfully, using logic as only watermelon scented Happy Air can provide, Leonardo thinks he actually blew the teeth out himself with his own breath. I will not ask him, but I wonder what he thinks the forceps were for?

And just so you know, in response to an absurd display of extortion, the Tooth Fairy pays five times the regular rate for pulled teeth with roots barbed like fish hooks.

Hatching a Plan for Twenty-Twelve

A new year is a time for optimism. Looking forward. A fresh start. In the past, I have not been one to be resolute in setting or achieving resolutions. But this year, I feel a bit inspired...

...in dozens of ways.

There are always dozens of items on my list of wants and wishes, shoulds and ought tos, need tos and betters. So what better time to tackle those than now when there are a dozen fresh months ahead?

Twelve months is easier to commit to than a year.

It's a mental game for me. Planning to achieve things when I have a whole year to get them done allows me not only a whole year to get them done but a whole year in which to procrastinate and put them off. If I mentally approach them in terms of months rather than a whole loooong year, my goals seems more achievable. I've created my own mental shell game.

So here is what's waiting to hatch in 2012 -

Maintain a healthy, balanced fitness regimen.

I have been on again off again (really mostly off) with exercise for over two years now, my mind being a big obstacle with my body holding a close second. This year I will get back on a maintenance plan.

Visit or be visited by each member of my family.

I didn't clear this with any of them, but I think they will be on board. 2011 was a challenging year for our family and many plans were laid aside to deal with immediate demands. Thus, what visits we did have were in the name of crises. For 2012, I look forward to spending time with each every one of my peeps at some time and reseal our familial bonds...and have a really good time. I already have plans to see one niece and a sister-in-law next week. Then there is spring break in Tennessee where two grandparents and another sister-in-law reside. And there are other visits in the works. So get my room ready! Or if you prefer, your room is ready here, family!

Break the chicken nugget habit.

Not mine, my kids'. Once upon a time I was a vegetarian who did raw food cleanses and eshewed convenience foods. If an item wasn't hard to acquire, cook or chew, it wasn't in my kitchen. Then I had children. I didn't completely fall into bad nutrition habits at the expense of my kids' health, but there are a few things that snuck onto our menu that would have been forbidden in my vegetarian days. 2012 will be end of days for those foods that bear no resemblance to their natural source or have names that end in "-os", or have an animated character as a spokesman.

Create a personal salsa recipe with my husband.

We love salsa! And we love to complain about bad salsa almost as much as we love to complain about bad iced tea! So this year, we'll create our own concoction and no longer have to subject ourselves to lesser salsas. If you are good, you might get your own jar for Christmas 2012.

Use my powers for good.

I haven't been using them necessarily for evil lately but I would like to find an outlet for my photographic powers that benefits someone or something else. I don't know what it will be, but in 2012 I'll be looking through the lens with a view for helping others.

Clear out the clutter.

I'm gonna blame this one on the kids too. We have accumulated so much stuff over the years and most of it belongs to them. We have about a dozens room in our house and about that many closets and storage areas. All of these are full. I bet there is a bag or dozen in those spaces that could be donated. My goal is to be as clutter free as my one sister-in-law who still has empty closet space after twenty-five years of marriage and countless home moves. She is the inspiration of a new reality show in the works called "Anti-hoarders".  Really.

Sh*# or get off the blog.

This is the start of my blog's fourth year. It has morphed over time and has always been an outlet for me. I haven't worked it like many bloggers do with blog hopping, weekly memes, and following countless other blogs. From that respect, I am a lame blogger. I put my stuff out here and in return read a small handful of other blogs. I like the personal nature of my blog and really don't want to commit any more time to my computer life. But I do want to add some regularity and structure to my blog. This will require some more thought. Or I'll just start keeping a journal instead.

My list is not filled with over-the-top achievements; just wholesome, hearty staple items.

Like a good fresh dozen.

Fresh Dozen

Hello 2012!

Let's get crackin'!