Health & Wellness

Healthy Goodies

jbloustein — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 08:03:05 -0600

I maneuvered the grocery cart down the aisle with one hand, nestling my 22-month-old son, Alexander, on my hip with the other.

That’s when I saw it: a box of cake mix, with a picture of a luscious chocolate slice smothered in gooey frosting. For a moment my imagination took off. Alexander would turn two soon, and this would make an awesome birthday cake! I could just see him smashing the cake into his mouth on his big day, family and friends snapping photos.

Mom's Best

jbloustein — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 08:52:24 -0600

They fled Egypt, grabbing unbaked loaves from their ovens.

As they raced through the desert, the searing sun baked the bread into flat, unleavened cakes. Only when they were safe from the Pharaoh, on the other side of a sea that miraculously parted for them, did the Jews finally have time to celebrate their freedom from slavery, eating the hard crackers we call “matzo.”

On Passover, my family gathers around the dining room table at my parents’ house and reads about that first, modest Seder, just part of the amazing story of the Exodus.

Surviving Postpartum Depression

jbloustein — Fri, 29 May 2009 14:34:48 -0500

In the early weeks of my first pregnancy, I braced myself for the misery of morning sickness.

At seven weeks, when the nausea hit, it was worse than I'd imagined. I had pictured an upset stomach, maybe a bit of vomiting in the morning. I hadn't foreseen an all-day sickness that made my mouth taste like dirt and made me loathe even the thought of food.

But I found comfort knowing I wasn't alone. As I gagged on Saltine crackers, I reminded myself that it was a normal part of pregnancy. It would come to an end.

Daisies Daily

test_1 — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 18:11:40 -0600

He came clutching a handful of daisies.

He came just as he did every day, passing the nurse’s desk, where I worked, down the hospital corridor to his daughter’s room. She was nearly six now, shut away in a world of unconsciousness and coma.

Yet sometimes I heard him, as he sat by her bedside, talking to her about her dog or her brother or even the weather.

Daisies Daily

test_1 — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 18:11:40 -0600

He came clutching a handful of daisies. He came just as he did every day, passing the nurse’s desk, where I worked, down the hospital corridor to his daughter’s room.

She was nearly six now, shut away in a world of unconsciousness and coma. Yet sometimes I heard him, as he sat by her bedside, talking to her about her dog or her brother or even the weather.

I entered the room that day as he was stroking her hair and telling her a story. The daisies drooped over the sides of a little plastic cup, positioned where she would see them if she opened her eyes.

Christmas Will Find You

jbloustein — Fri, 05 Dec 2008 13:47:15 -0600

Christmas Eve I woke up early for our big family dinner.

Dozens of relatives were due to arrive in a matter of hours, and of course there was lots to do. I went to the kitchen to put in the turkey. But first I took a deep breath.

I had a special Christmas request I didn’t want to forget. A prayer not so much for me and our guests, but for my teenage son, Darryl. Please, God, I asked, let us spend Christmas at home, and not in the hospital.

Sprinkles on Top

admin — Fri, 24 Oct 2008 13:34:39 -0500

All the signs are there. Reindeer pop up on neighborhood lawns. Cars drive by with pine trees tied to their roofs. Holiday tunes fill the airwaves.

But for me, Christmastime doesn't really arrive until the house is filled with the smell of freshly baked Christmas cookies. I've been making them for more than 50 years. It always puts me in the spirit of the season.

Hint of Cinnamon

admin — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 16:04:50 -0500

Where was she? My friends' parents had picked them up from theater rehearsal already, and I was tired of waiting in front of the high school. Mom was never late. Nothing's the same since she and Dad split up, I thought.

Just then she drove up. My brother, Markkus, slouched in the backseat in his soccer uniform. "Sorry," Mom said. "The lines at the grocery store were terrible." I got in and slammed the door.

"Are you guys in the mood for tacos?" Mom asked.

5 Things I Learned From My Father

admin — Fri, 01 Jul 2005 12:34:00 -0500

They say ministers are too busy helping others to help their own kids. My dad, Norman Vincent Peale, wasn't like that.

1. Leave your worries at the door.
The night before the SAT, I was so nervous I couldn't sleep...until Dad shared this strategy: "Imagine yourself dropping your anxious thoughts overboard. Leave them in your wake and sail on." The next morning I left my worries in the school hallway and walked into the exam room relaxed and confident.

2. Make enthusiasm a way of life.

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A Second Chance

admin — Wed, 01 Nov 2006 10:43:00 -0600

The phone call came one cool winter day. It was the manager of the trailer park where my father lived. "Mrs. Rose, something is seriously wrong with your father," he said. "Would you come down here and check on him?"

It had been a long time since I'd seen my father, and I wasn't in any hurry to change that. I had left home years ago and never looked back. I married a good man and raised a wonderful daughter. I had my own life now—one that I had worked hard to build.

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