The Wellness Bitch

Some of you are afraid to tell your friends and family about The Wellness Bitch. You know who you are.

You hide me like you used to sneak a ciggy out your window in high school.

You cautiously pull The Wellness Bitch up on your screen at work and then you casually turn your head from side to side to see if anyone is around.

Deep inside you chuckle at my post calling out the mom at the playground, but you’re terribly afraid of ever actually doing it yourself.

I mean, come on. What would people think of you?

As we approach The Holiday Season, I invite you…no I triple dog dare you…to tell your family about The Wellness Bitch.

Choose the perfect time. Right after your mother-in-law lights up the artificially fragranced peppermint from Yankee Candle. Or perhaps after your brother stuffs a Blow Pop in your nephew’s mouth so he can watch The Game in silence.

Tell them about this funny blog called…hee hee…The Wellness Bitch.

Let them know that I sit up here on my high horse (I mean, my desk) and write about all the toxic crap that people are putting in their mouths, on their skin, and using in their homes.

Let them know that the language I use is sometimes “over-the-top” (and make sure to giggle when you say it to let them know that you don’t approve of such profanity).

Let them know that you don’t always agree with how I go about delivering my message (though you secretly approve wholeheartedly), but that you think I have the right intentions.

And, if you’re really daring, you can bring this original handout with you as a prop or as a conversation piece.

Come on, you know you want to. That heated conversation is calling you just the way that Marlboro Light did long ago in the days before you knew it was just as bad for you as a McDonald’s Happy Meal.

Or is it the other way around?

This post by The Wellness Bitch is a Healthy Child Hot Topic – an effort by Healthy Child Healthy World to help inspire a movement to protect children from harmful chemicals

Read more: http://healthychild.org/blog/comments/holiday_table_talk…or_not/#ixzz14B1mTmNx

Let’s discuss the bravery it requires to live in this world when you’ve woken up to wellness.

I’m writing this on Halloween, hours before I will lovingly allow my three kids to indulge in stuffing their faces with forbidden foods. In fact, all weekend has been that sort of experience for us. On Friday there was, of course, a Halloween celebration at my oldest son’s school…with Doritoes (that he declined!), fruit punch, and cupcakes. Yesterday, we made a last minute dash to the pumpkin picking farm where our hayride ticket included a powdered donut. In the afternoon, our family headed over to my son’s soccer game, where snack was Kellogg’s “fruit” snacks and CapriSun.

Lucky for me, I determined in advance that this was going to be a “yes” weekend.  To show my kids that we can veer from the plan when its purposeful and mindful– and to give myself a break from being a walking, “No.”

But what about next weekend? And over the holiday season? And throughout the year when we are constantly bombarded by “reasons to celebrate?” (Valentine’s Day, Birthdays, Going Away Parties, Retirements, Graduations)

I cannot live a “yes” weekend every day of the year. The repercussions (impulsivity, diarrhea, postnasal drip, eczema, moodiness, and interrupted sleep) don’t work for me.

Hence, the walking “no.”

I don’t like saying it all the time and I don’t appreciate being the outcast and I don’t always feel like standing up for myself and my kids.

It’s moments like this when I completely understand the desire to live on a commune or to homeschool.

Sometimes I feel like leaving my house is equivalent to preparing for battle.

It takes courage, convinction, and grace. 

Mostly it requires hope.

Hope that as I continue to live my life as mindfully and as purposefully as possible, more people will wake up. And those people will make choices who will make my life a little bit easier.

That said, I’m not opposed to the commune idea. Particularly if it’s nut-free, dairy-free, and gluten-free with a Waldorf-like school on site that uses eco-friendly cleaning products and prepares home-cooked, whole food-based meals for their students. An acupuncturist, naturopath, and chiropractor on site would be an added bonus!

Sure would make life helluva lot easier for me.

Have you read this blog post that your friends with kids have likely been sharing around social media networks?  (“You just broke your child. Congratulations.”)

I read it last Sunday after a particularly unexemplary moment with my oldest child.

There’s nothing that makes me feel worse than screwing up with my kids. Particularly with the oldest one, who is seven, since he is very bright, sensitive, and constantly shows me that my husband and I are doing something right while raising him.

My seven year old son is a carbon copy of me. And like me he is full of energy and outgoing. He is also hot-tempered and stubborn. So that when we “get into it,” we’re two bulls ramming heads. (He is actually a Sagitarius and I’m a Leo. Go ahead and analyze us, astrology lovers.)

A few years ago, my husband and I took a course called The Landmark Forum and when we got home, we were determined to designate our home a “yelling free zone.” We told our then four-year-old son that moving forward, when we started raising our voices, he would be permitted to look at us and say, “This is not a yelling house.” And we promised to shut the hell up.

You know what? It worked. And it actually put us on the path of taking ownership for the behavior that we didn’t like in ourselves and the kind of stuff that was significantly contributing to our family’s quality of life.

I did not grow up in a yelling free zone. Quite the opposite. It was a “scream at the top of your lungs and storm up and down the stairs zone.” Luckily, it wasn’t a hitting or beating zone…but looking back, I can see how growing up in an angry household impacted my health and wellness.

That’s not the kind of environment I want to raise my kids in. It’s not the kind of family I want to be. And it’s not who I want to be as a wife, a mother or an individual.

It’s not easy because I can be an angry bitch, sometimes.

But there is never any reason to take out your anger on your kids rather than your boss. (Or your spouse, or your mother, or the Universe.)

And no matter how bad your seven year old has screwed up, he is still learning.

Let me repeat that.

He is still learning.

And his number one, most favorite, every day teacher is you.

So when I lose it with my son, I say sorry. I kiss him and love him and tell him I wish I had handled the situation better. I take complete 100% ownership for my behavior. At best, I use it as a teaching moment for how not to handle anger or fear or frustration.

And if I’m lucky, when he grows up, he’ll be a little less like me.

Someone please tell me I’m reading this wrong. Or I’ve gone blind. Or I’m in an alternate universe.

Yesterday on Facebook, I saw Dr. Oz posted about his 28-day National Soda Challenge. I thought this sounded pretty cool — From the description, it seemed like a community effort to quit something that makes people sick. As Dr. Oz says in the intro to the 28-Day challenge:

Soda is an addictive stimulant, loaded with caffeine and high-fructose corn syrup; it’s making Americans sick and fat. Break the cycle of addiction…

So I read further. Dr. Oz starts with Step 1: Go Sugar Free. This is a great suggestion. Except for the fact that Dr. Oz suggests you switch from soda to diet soda.

Are you f-ing kidding me, Dr. Oz?

He claims, “If you only drink diet soda already, you’re one step ahead of the game.”

One step towards where? Cancer? Death? How do you justify suggesting people switch from one drug to another?

I took a deep breath and continued on to Step 2 hoping it would get better.

IT DIDN’T!!!!

Step 2: Go caffeine free. Okay, good start. But then Dr. Oz reminds the challenge participants:

Remember that headaches are a common symptom of caffeine withdrawal. Take ibuprofen for headache relief.

Couldn’t Dr. Oz…proponent of natural medicine…offer any other suggestions for headache relief other than medication? How about massage? Acupressure? Acupuncture? Extra rest? Deep breathing? Sure, he encourages you to add “foods rich in vitamin B to your diet, like chickpeas, spinach and whole grain cereal.” But that type of diet change is not going to offer immediate headache relief.

By the time you get to Step 4, you’re supposed to be “Soda Free.” Hooray for you!

And you know what Dr. Oz suggests if you’re still having a hard time 28 days later?

If you experience a craving, try chewing sugar-free gum.  Additionally, if you find yourself fixating on soda, find a method of distraction, like taking a walk, doing 10 push-ups or cleaning 

Look, Dr. Oz. I know it’s not you writing the content for this challenge. It’s very likely you hardly even know it’s taking place!

But the next time your assistant hires an intern to handle your social media content, try to choose someone

WHO ACTUALLY HAS A CLUE.

This is unacceptable.

If you agree, RETWEET this like crazy, SHARE this post with your friends, and go visit Dr. Oz’s web communities and point him to The Wellness Bitch. Let’s WAKE UP Dr. Oz.

UPDATE: By the way, folks, Dr. Oz’s resume includes “Honored by the New York Open Center for “outstanding research in writing and communication (and for) bridging Western and alternative/complementary medicine.” Not this time.

There’s a lot of discussion and griping about how wellness is only for the wealthy.

That the poor are so desperate to feed their families, that they have no other choice than to buy cheap imitation grape drink and Dollar Store brand cheese doodles. That the poor don’t have the benefit of spending time in Barnes and Noble browsing through Michael Pollan books. That the poor are so tired from working two jobs that they can’t summon up the strength to do more than throw some canned franks and beans into a pot to warm.

I’d like to know how those people– those compassionate champions of the working poor — how do they explain it when middle class Americans…or even upper class americans with nannies and luxury cars …make those same choices? Because they do. I see it all the time.

I walk into a $1 million home to pick up my kid from a playdate and find him eating rainbow goldfish crackers.

I see nannies pushing overweight kids in stroller. And moms in designer shoes handing their two-year-olds mocha frappaccinos to sip on.

I’m not a cold-hearted bitch. But I don’t think eating or living well really takes much money, brains, or higher education. Clearly, if that’s all it took, we wouldn’t be seeing commercials for Abilify, alongside ones for Macy’s One Day Sale.

Hey. Come a little closer. I’m going to let you in on a little secret.

I’m not rich. I put on a good show with my nice house and leased mini-van. My kids in their hand-me-down Old Navy clothes. My mock designer hand bag from Target.

But we’re struggling. We have debt. We count our pennies.

I don’t have the money for a gym membership or a trainer or even to go to weekly yoga classes. I take books out of the library or buy them second hand on Ebay.

But don’t cry for me. And don’t think I’m complaining that my life is so hard.

But, I think that bad lifestyle choices aren’t reserved for the poor.

And it’s about time we stop having that conversation and move on. Frankly, it bores me.

Your sympathy and your outrage would be better spent WAKING UP our government. And our schools. And your neighbors.

I’ve had three C-sections. And while I’m grateful to say I welcomed three healthy children into this world, I’m less than thrilled with the manner in which they arrived.

None of my C-sections were by choice. Sure, I signed my name to a consent form each time. No one literally forced my hand. But they might as well have.

With the first, I was told by my physician that inducing me at 41 weeks would lessen my likelihood of a C-section. I didn’t have enough information at the time to know that was bullshit.

With my second, I searched high and low for a midwife backed by an OB who would “allow” me not just a trial of labor, but the chance to go into labor on my own. My mother had three children, all post-term (and all by normal vaginal birth). I knew my kids needed more time to bake. Do you know how hard it was not only to find a licensed practitioner, let alone someone who would “let” me go to 42 weeks without forcing me into a repeat C-section? Practically impossible.

By the hair of my chinny chin chin, I went into labor on my own at 41 weeks 6 days. (A repeat C-section was scheduled for me the next day.) I labored for 15 hours, but when the baby stopped dropping, I was given a window of two hours to show any sign of progression. When there wasn’t within that window, I was sent to the operating table. He wasn’t in distress; neither was I. It didn’t matter. Rules were rules.

As I laid on the table awaiting the surgery, the OB on call said to the intern before he cut me, “She’s a failed VBAC.”

When I got pregnant with baby #3, there were even less options. The only way I could even contemplate having a trial of labor after two Cesareans was to find an unlicensed homebirth midwife. No hospital in NJ would take me unless I scheduled a Cesarean. And not even the most VBAC-friendly OB or midwife in the state would entertain the thought of allowing me a trial of labor as a “VBA2C.” Repeat C-section it was.

Now, new guidelines supposedly seek to reduce the C-section rate in this country, which have risen to obscene rates. I appreciate with pleasant surprise the honesty displayed by writer Denise Grady in this recent article from The New York Times, when she writes that decisions to insist upon scheduled repeat C-sections are due largely to fear of lawsuit and liability. You won’t hear those words coming out of a doctor’s mouth, though.

What will you usually hear instead?

“Risk’s too great.”

“Your pelvis is too small.”

“You make babies a little too big for your frame.”

“The hospital is not VBAC-friendly.”

And it’s not just doctors who practice near me. Almost every single one of my female friends who had a C-section with her first (and it’s a frightfully high number), chose a repeat C-section for her subsequent pregnancies. And most did so out of fear. (A handful did so out of convenience, but that’s a bitch of a different color.)

It’s not easy too chose VBAC. Even the most natural-minded woman needs to be very brave and very sure of herself to consider VBAC when her doctor tells her she risks killing her baby by doing so.

It’s once again the medical industry pressuring patients to make fear-based decisions. Sharing some of the facts, but withholding those that don’t support their case. (My doctor never told me about the increased maternal death rate for a woman giving birth by C-section. I had to learn that fun fact on my own.) And it’s once again, individuals placing blind faith in what their doctors say.

A holistic approach to childbirth? It’s not natural vs. epidural. Nor VBAC vs. C-section. Nor hospital vs. homebirth.

It’s taking the time to know each woman and each pregnancy. It’s providing all the facts, not just some. It’s allowing women the time and opportunity to labor on her own, while also supporting her in the case of a true, medical emergency.

Educated, informed choice is not too much to ask for.

TIPS: International Cesarean Awarness Network. Choices in Childbirth. BOLD.