Musical Milliner

August 4, 2013

Allattare tutti i bambini

wbw2013-flower-colorIt is our annual World Breastfeeding Week. In a former phase, Musical Milliner was a certified lactation educator. Because MM breastfed her kids to age two, the only singing was lullabyes for a time. We know anecdotally that </=5% of women cannot nurse due to medical conditions. That leaves 95%of us who can, with support systems in place, experience long-term breastfeeding.

We know that most breastfeeding failure occurs when there is a lack of education, family and peer support. The whole village needs to get on board. Support is crucial in the first few weeks, and peer support is one of the greatest predictors for successful breastfeeding, along with frequent consultation with a certified lactation consultant and a new moms support group as needed. Most medical insurance companies have seen the light, and knowing of the long-term cost savings, now cover lactation services.

Not long ago, WIC distributed vouchers to low-income mothers for formula, a demographic for which health issues are more common. We got the hospitals to stop distributing “samples” of artificial formula. These women learn that breastfeeding will lower their grocery bills and lessen their medical costs.

Yes, there are challenges for most women at first. Between sleep deprivation, and the social, relational and physical adjustments new moms make, things can be tough. Again, support of family, peers and lactation consultants, is key for long-term nursing relationships.

Mother-friendly policies in the workplace is another area in which we’ve seen progress. Having a dedicated space for moms to pump and store milk, or have places to nurse in privacy are important. We need to keep pressing on this one until it becomes the norm.

And while we’re at it, for those still-backward parts of the world where mothers are expected to go nurse their hungry babies in a bathroom stall? NOT okay. How would YOU like to eat your meal in a public lavatory?

All I can add is that my own children were obviously healthier than some of their peers. one child has never taken antibiotics, and the other had one ear infection at age three, when he began pre-school.

In addition, they’ve been raised vegetarians, and I believe this has contributed to their robust health.

Someone once said to me, “Breastfeeding is the first promise we make to our children.”
http://worldbreastfeedingweek.org/

(C)GoshGusPublishing(ascap)2013

January 13, 2013

Our Lost Home

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Guest blogger August Stadtfeld is a junior at The Marin School in Sausalito.

I settled on a large boulder, having finished my days work. As I relax, I remove my protective helmet, and I can breath. The heavy equipment is dropped, making an audible thud.

The recycled air fills my lungs, both calming my nerves,and stinging my sinuses. I’ve worked in the red mines for several years, collecting precious minerals for our small community. It is a difficult task, but I carry it out dutifully and without regret, for the colony is in dire straits.

We have been stranded on this cruel orb for generations, and I know not how long we can last on its brittle, lifeless, uncaring soil.

Unlike most here, I can remember what life was like. Before our communities’ cruel twist of fate. Back then,we were a content group. Our society was optimistic for our future, with hopes and dreams of what we could accomplish on this new home of ours.

Back then, I’d explore the world’s surface, as many have before. Occasionally I came across a small rover, its structure long broken, sent to examine our future home many years ago. These remains were my only company as I looked up at the stars.

On this airless world, the stars shine so brightly. But not as brightly as the planets. They glow like beacons, calling others to their surfaces. Jupiter shines almost a dull copper, Saturn is a subtle gold. Our species home was a glorious blue.

Our home was a sign of hope. Our home, once so bright and full of potential, which once shined a bright, clear red, is now only a dark, scorched brown.

After our colony was built, a disaster occurred, unlike any other seen by human eyes.

Our sun, with its warm and calming influence, that had helped us grow for countless millenia, betrayed us. Some say what happened was our fault, that we had tampered with forces far beyond humanities comprehension, and other said it was an act of God, that we were being punished.

The sun lashed out, its eternally raging inferno destroying everything in its path.

Mercury and Venus are gone, reduced to dust. Our colony was spared, but the planet was burned. It’s a wasteland now. But the blue planet, that which began our journey to the stars, that is the one that suffered the most.

As the heat struck it, its surface cracked. The seas dried up, the continents fragmented. From our colony we saw the cities glow white hot, and melt into nothing.

 As it cracked, the planet grew hotter, and when the final blow struck,when that last wave of wrathful heat came, the blue planet shattered.

Its remains flew across the stars to parts unknown.

We are the last of our species. We exist in this vast, uncaring universe alone,with no sign that anyone else has survived.

Many of us have given up,waiting for the inevitable time that the sun burns even hotter, and removes us from existence. We stand here, at hell’s gates, with no hope for salvation, as we weep for our lost home

(c)GoshGusPublishing(ascap)2013

September 7, 2009

Dolce

Filed under: hope,Musical Life,Soprano,Uncategorized — by Musical Milliner @ 11:24 pm
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A few stolen days, and a reminder that who I am is of value.  A reminder that I have had a rich life, and when I tell my stories, I remember that I have contributed good to the world, and there is more here for me to do.

A reminder that I am cherished.

Finally, I am reminded that happiness is found in the eyes, and touch and conversation of everyone I take time for, every day.

Note to self: count my value.  Vocalise for two hours every day. Practice piano for one hour, and spend another hour on learning new scores and songs. Remember remembering.

(c)GoshGusMusic(ascap)2009

April 14, 2009

Singing in the Garden

Filed under: hope,love,Uncategorized — by Musical Milliner @ 6:46 pm
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imagesThe father of my children used to say that he could gauge how I was feeling about myself by two things. If I was well and in a positive state, my cooking was divine and my garden was glorious. Actually, his words were more fundamental.

My garden has looked neglected, and my cooking, as most moms come to experience with the daily grind has become routine. These days, the latter due to having busy teens, and the need to throw carbs into the trough. When I get the chance now, the goods are good!

Drooping, weedy plants is the bigger sign. I used to love buying flats of annuals and taking joy in the simple pleasure of their generous beauty. Money is tight, and such an expenditure falls into the “must do without” category.

Today I said the hell with it, and found ten dollars for some impatiens and seeds. Ten dollars for mental health cost less than a bottle of pharmaceuticals and lasts longer. So I hauled out two of my four window boxes to my kitchen, and cleaned out the moldering bits, added ground eggshells and other amendments ( I so need a container of composting worms- a must for container gardening), and felt the sensuality of wet earth in my hands. I planted the annuals, seeded some trailing alyssum, and offered a prayer of thanksgiving as I replaced them in their brackets.

Tomorrow I will prune the other two, which contain geraniums, and have grown woody. The bight red outside the bathroom window, and the lavender box which sits before me as I work at my desk. Despite my neglect, these plants refuse to give up on me, and shower me with their profuse beauty. I owe them.

To the many containers out in my front, south-facing garden, I seeded basil, and several flowers in bare pots, and added trailing alyssum and lobelia to any pot with room. I like layering. Greenery and color gracefully cascading over the pots, framing the rosemary or vines above. If you were to drive by, you would see a temporary decor of plastic kitchen wrap and blue painters tape for the terrariums needed to nurse the seeds from their sleep.

No doubt my cranky neighbor upstairs will complain, but that is her sport. I ignore her.

So I have planted hope. The hope that in the future, my life will thrive once again. The hope that people will find work to put bread on the table. The hope that our children will remember that no matter what, they are loved beyond all reason and boundaries. That laughter and love and flowers will turn my house back into a home.

(c)GoshGusMusic(ascap)2009

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