Avery Lynn Canahuati, who was born in November with spinal muscular atrophy type 1, died of pulmonary complications related to the genetic disorder, Mike Canahuati said on the blog Tuesday.

There is something depressing about returning to the ballet world, knowing I will not and cannot be competitive in it any longer.  I tried to convince myself that the love of the art was enough reason to continue it, but it was damaging to my inner child so (for now) I am only conducting informal, in house classes for myself when I have the time (never).

Also, I have been struggling with some old lower back issues compounded by the repetitive lifting of a 20lbs baby.  So, I needed to find a fun and engaging activity that would encourage my fitness level and keep me flexible.  Luckily, living in a more city-like setting has it's perks. 

I have been interested in pole dancing for a while.  I saw a Youtube video of a girl called the "Vertical Ballerina" and I loved her grace and beauty and how she made pole dancing seem sleek and demure.

Google "pole dancing fitness in Fort Worth, TX" and there are a lot of hits!  So, I had my first class recently and it was great - I love it!  I am pretty aggressive with myself so I, of course, overdid and ended up with some ugly bruises on my wrists and upper arms, but it definitely fulfills all my requirements for fun and fitness.

Ladies - if you're looking for a fun way to stay in shape and feel good about yourself as a woman, you may want to give it a try -- all fitness levels are welcome in these classes.  Just be sure you choose a studio that has an experienced instructor who knows what she is doing.  Eventually, you can do inverts (upside down tricks!) and those are dangerous enough without an instructor who doesn't know what she is doing! 

The Indiana State Department of Health has confirmed a person infected with the measles visited the Super Bowl Village at some point last week, where an estimated 250,000 people were throughout the day. The person is believed to have visited Friday.

They claimed they saw an increase in donations over the past couple of days.  They claimed there was a clear policy rule that disqualified Planned Parenthood from grant money.

Now, they're going to restore funding the the organization. 

What do you think?

It isn't a secret that pregnancy takes a toll on the mother's body.  It can even take a vicarious toll on the father's body.  Throughout my pregnancy, I took many measures to ensure the health of my baby and myself.  Admittedly, part of my efforts were to salvage as much as my body as possible.

My upbringing and active participation in the competitive world of ballet made me extremely self-conscious and I knew that the effects of pregnancy could leave me unfairly focused on my changed body instead of my new baby.  So, I was extremely pleased that my efforts were worthwhile and I was left with just a little needed tightening after the birth.

Obviously, a new baby is very distracting in the most positive way.  I was never so UNfocused on myself and my image.  I was more carefree (in this specific way) than I had ever been.  I was amazed at what my body had accomplished -- more proud of it than any time in my ballet career.  And I was equally impressed by every other mother's body in the world.  We are amazing machines, mamas!  Harsh criticism of our bodies is unwarranted and should go away immediately.

Now, my son is nearing 9 months of age and a sort-of routine has come into play.  I am getting to know him and he is getting to know me.  We are both happy with who we have been introduced to.  So, some of my attention can turn back towards me and as I surveyed the damage, I only have one complaint ... what happened to my breasts?!

I nursed my son for only four months (long story...).  I would have liked to have done it longer.  During that time is when I think my breasts took the most affront.  Without getting too graphic - the constant "filling up" and "emptying" was probably the reason that now, I get the willies when I feel them...

It's not the most drastic thing in the world.  It's pretty subtle actually...they used to feel like they were full of...well, something.  What, I'm not sure.  Now, it's like 10% of that something has been taken away so they feel soft and somehow out of place on my body.

And I cannot accurately determine if I am remembering how firm they were when I was nursing (as, even when they were 'empty', they still had something to offer) or if I really was firmer before nursing.

Was this how they always felt?

*shrug* It's not that it really bothers me.  It's just...different.  Oh, and different apparently makes me do weird stuff like stand on my head before bed (I thought I would have gravity work with me...though sagging isn't really the problem - it's difficult for breasts as small as mine to sag).

Anyway -- there it is -- one of the many wonders of motherhood!

Tripp Roth, who was diagnosed with junctional epidermolysis bullosa at birth, died Saturday in the arms of his mother, Courtney Roth, who had chronicled her life with Tripp in the popular blog, "EBing a Mommy."

Daycare confirms that 8-month old girl put dead mouse in her mouth when they weren't looking.

Up until 16 weeks ago, my breasts were entirely my own.  They were a humble size, never caused a bit of trouble, and brought me pleasure whenever I asked them to.

I knew I wanted to try breastfeeding, but towards the end of my pregnancy, I would stare at those suckers (which hadn't gotten any bigger) and thought "I just don't get how this is gonna work..."

I'll spare you the details of learning to nurse.  It wasn't that difficult - just required persistence.  Five days after giving birth, my full milk was in and I was officially and nursing mother.

Of everything that happened during and post pregnancy, the change to my breasts has been the most dramatic for me.  My tummy, again flat and spared of stretchmarks cannot compare to my breasts which, from getting engorged and emptied repeatedly, have a few suggestions of stretch marks that I am not sure will go away when I'm finished.

But psychologically, the change is enormous.  First, giving birth caused me to lose my inhibitions about my body: I think intense pain will do that.  After 24 hrs of doctors and nurses poking you and looking at all of your most intimate parts, you just sort of stop thinking about it.  By the end of the first week, I was comfortable pulling my shirt up in front of anyone to feed my son and I have had to keep reminding myself that people really are uncomfortable seeing a woman's breast.

Second, these things that used to belong to me and exist for my pleasure now belong to someone else for his pleasure.  And he would really get into nursing.  He looked like a parched sailor taking a his first sips of ice-cold brewski - his eyes roll back and he makes happy gulping sounds, sighing with contentment.  Looking at him, I felt a sense of detachment from my body.  I didn't feel like I was watching my son suck on my breast - I was just watching him eat and it was a strange feeling.

Third, I could no longer see this part of my body as a sexual pleasure.  It just seemed wrong to use my son's food source as my source of pleasure.  

Now that I am back at work, my son takes formula at daycare and I nurse him in the evenings.  I have to pump at work to keep a supply though it has still dipped anyway.  I don't think I will continue to nurse for too much longer.

So while I know it is natural and healthy...if I let myself think of it...breastfeeding is awkward.

Vegetables. Did you ever consider the awesome power of vegetables?  They are the basic equivalent of eating sunshine, one little seed that pops up into a health-enhancing powerhouse - a product of the sun, rain, and soil.  However, vegetables sometimes get a bad reputation, but that is wholly undeserved considering the enormous contribution they can make to your health.

Today, I want to pay homage to one veggie in particular - Broccoli.  Why?  3,3′-Diindolylmethane.  Need to see that again? 3,3′-Diindolylmethane.  Scientists make it easier by calling it DIM for short so we can too.  DIM has been demonstrated to synergize with interferon gamma in the potentiation of the major histocompatibility complex, it is currently also under investigation as an adjuvant to IFN-G treatment models for both cancer and viral infections such as HIV, HPV and hepatitis.

That's fancy science-talk for Broccoli has literally been PROVEN to prevent, slowdown, and TREAT cancer.  Yeah, that's a pretty big deal.  You know how sometimes there will be a study published about how Farts Smell Bad or Rocks Hurt When They Get in Your Shoe and everyone on the Vine will bitch about how so much money is wasted on garbage we already knew (classic comment: "What's next: study proves water is wet?" hahaha, never gets old). 

Well, I happen to respect our scientists and suggest that perhaps we just don't understand the majority of their studies.  After all, can you think of anything funny about the fact that Broccoli also contains the compound glucoraphanin, which can be processed into an anti-cancer compound sulforaphane?  Me neither.

Now, I don't want to get too much into the science mumbo-jumbo because, if you're like me, you'll stop reading mid-way through.  Let me just promise you that 3,3′-Diindolylmethane and glucoraphanin and sulforaphane are some serious things that have some serious cancer ass-kicking properties.  

That is good news folks!  But there is some bad news...

Ready for it?

 3,3′-Diindolylmethane and glucoraphanin and, therefore, sulforaphane are greatly diminished if you cook Broccoli.  I mean, like, there isn't really even any point in eating it if you're going to cook it.  You may as well just eat a Big Mac.  I know, I know, raw Broccoli is akin to chewing the eraser on your pencil or shoe leather.  But, I bet we could all learn to enjoy some raw Broccoli if we put our minds to it (and dipped it in Ranch Dressing).  

So, here's to you, (raw) Broccoli and all of your 3,3′-Diindolylmethane goodness!  Keep vaporizing those cancer cells and we'll keep you in our fridge!

What to know more about Broccoli and it's super powers?  Don't take my word for it...

http://www.nih.gov/researchmatters/april2011/04252011copd.htm

http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC34511/

http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/16284385

And my personal favorite -- a website entirely dedicated to the amazing properties of BROCCOLI! -- http://www.broccolieffect.com

That's right, someone actually has a website called www.broccolieffect.com. Visit it now and become exponentially cooler than the person in the cubicle next to you!

After becoming pregnant, my husband and I didn't have sex at all after the 6 month of pregnancy (his decision, not mine).  Our sex life was already pretty pathetic prior to getting pregnant.  Our son was born naturally on May 10, 2011 and we observed the obligatory 6 week rule so i could be examined by my doctor before having sex again.

Of course, when I went to my appointment at 6 weeks postpartum, they kept me waiting for an hour, my husband was home with the squirt and so I rescheduled so I could go home (husband couldn't handle being with him for more than an hour).  One week later I was seen by someone who was not my doctor and not the person who delivered our son either.  She cleared me and told I was "back to normal".

Yet another week later (now we are 8 weeks postpartum) and my husband was finally "in the mood" and the baby was asleep.  Foreplay hasn't even been attempted for the past several years so that wasn't new.  I often start out not exactly in the mood and work my way there, but on this occasion, I found myself in intense pain.  Like, I'm a virgin all over again pain.  I tried to tough it out, but I had to ask him to stop.

Gave myself another week and we tried again.  This time, I was prepared with lubricant to help things.  It allowed us to get it done, but it was still extremely painful.  Another week and we did it again (my husband now assuming I should feel totally fine) and I was in pain again (not as bad).

Anyway, I scoured the internet for some clue as to why I am in a lot of pain, but all the comment boards were things like "I had sex two days after giving birth and it was the best EVER!".  The only clue at all was that breastfeeding can sometimes contribute to postpartum pain during sex though I was sort of stumped as to why.

My husband rarely shows any affection and was barely interested in sex with me before.  I'm afraid if I complain that it hurts every time, he will stop having sex with me all together.  

So before I resort to an embarrassing doctor's visit.  Any ideas on what could be the problem?

Other experiments in the study backed up the findings: When people make a wise or restrained choice, their subsequent reactions are more angry than people who gave in to their impulses.

**DISCLAIMER** Frank talk about buttholes, poop, and butthole problems ahead...reader discretion is advised.

I don't believe we talk about poop or butts enough in our society. It's a shame too because efficiently removing toxins and gunk from our bodies is a great way to feel better and improve your overall health. A previously written article already delved into my feelings about pooping, but this article is about a different rear-end topic - hemorrhoids.

Being 26, in shape, and otherwise healthy, I thought they were something old people got and I didn't even know what they actually were. Had you asked me (which would be odd) I would have said they were "things old people got on their butts that hurt".

Now, being pregnant, I have a whole new perspective. I now know that a hemorrhoid is just a varicose vein on your butthole caused by pressure (I had thought they were some grotesque open, weeping wound). In pregnancy, they can happen just from the position and weight of the baby/uterus. But they are often caused by constipation and the pressure caused by trying to "bear down".

My little hemorrhoid is not really painful and I only noticed it because it was just a bit sore (though it didn't effect my ability to ride a bike as the commercials suggest). It doesn't stop me from doing anything I normally would except maybe having doggy-style sex. I don't think it makes the most attractive picutre at this point. And I haven't told my husband about it because, well, can't I have any seductive mystery left after this pregnancy, damn it?

And, actually, it usually goes away after only a day or two - returning if I don't get enough fiber in my diet that week.

I haven't done any special treatments aside from taking a warm, epsom salt bath once a week and upping my fiber intake. My doctor says, it will likely be gone for good once the baby comes and that is good news.

On a serious note, Americans need to take better care of their butts. They work hard and can even be down right attractive, but they need our help to stay in tip top shape. Here is what I have learned about butts and hemorrhoids (though, remember, I am not a medical doctor):

1) Eat lots of fiber and drink plenty of fluids.

2) Poop when you need to - holding it in poisons the body and creates pressure that can lead to hemorrhoids

3) Wipe your butt with baby wipes or soft tissue to prevent irritation

4) No scented TP

5) Wash your butthole like you mean it with fragrance-free soap

6) Tell your doctor if your butt has issues - you're it's only advocate!

7) Everyone poops and everyone has a butt so don't be embarrassed by yours!!

So a week ago I was able to meet with an Endocrinologist about my diagnosis of Gestational Diabetes. I must say that the care I received by those at the medical center where I went was top-notch.

1) First, I saw a nurse who drew my blood and took all of my vitals )including my sitting down and standing up blood pressure). This took about 20 minutes.

2) Next, I saw a Nutritionist who explained carbohydrates to me and went over my current diet/lifestyle. Then, she showed me various charts that demonstrated different carbohydrate contents of various foods. She designed a "carbohydrate plan" for me which includes 3 meals (breakfast, lunch, and dinner) of 45 grams of carbs. And 3 snacks (after breakfast, after lunch, and after dinner) of 15 carbs. She has forbidden me from drinking anything, but water. And I'm supposed to try to reach the carb max at each meal/snack. She left by telling me that, if after a week on the diet, I was too hungry or too full - to call her and we could adjust the diet. This took about 1 hour.

3) Next, I saw an Endocrinologist who showed me how to use my blood sugar monitor. You know, one of those "poke your finger and put it on a strip" deals? I am supposed to take my sugar when I first wake up, two hours after breakfast, before I eat dinner, and two hours after dinner. Once a week, I call the clinic to report my numbers. My "before meal" number should be under 90. My "after meal" number should be under 120. We also talked about the effects of Gestational Diabetes on the baby and myself -- how I will need to follow my diet and test my sugar until 6 weeks after the baby is born -- and that if I was unable to control my sugar with the diet, they would put me on insulin. This took about 1 hour.

I have been on the diet for about a week now and I have not cheated at all. If anything, I don't reach the max carbohydrates at each meal. Thus far, all of my numbers have been in range except for one which after breakfast yesterday - I read 130 and I'm supposed to be under 120. The numbers in the evening were normal.

It hasn't been as hard as I thought it would be...probably, in part, because I had dreamed up horrible scenarios in my mind of only eating celery sticks for the next three months and also in part because I have a little guy on board who needs me to be on my best behavior so that is all the motivation I need.

The only thing I really miss right now is juice. I used to drink a lot of juice. Other than that, anything I want to eat really can be incorporated into my diet. Of course, that might mean I only have two Oreo cookies for dinner, but it can all be worked out.

Since green vegetables are "free" foods (in that they don't have any carbs), I have been eating more salads and that is probably good too. Also, the Gestional Diabetes diet doesn't require the patient to worry about fats which is different than a typical diabetes diet so I can eat an egg for breakfast if I want.

Next Wednesday, I have my normal OBGYN appointment and I am eager to see how much weight, if any, I have gained. Part of the reasoning of this diet is to prevent the baby from getting too large to deliver naturally. I hope there is progress in this regard.

Bottom Line....First, it really is amazing to think about how many carbs I was actually consuming everyday when I compare it to what I am consuming now! Second, diets are always a little tough and, even though it sounds pathetic, you feel a little "deprived" and like everyone else gets to enjoy that office cake or that milkshake or that Valentine's candy...but every cloud has a silver lining and it feels good to know I am controlling an element of my health that would otherwise damage my baby and myself.

So, here's to being on a diet! *Cheers!*

There are the habitual knuckle-crackers, neck-poppers, and back-twisters. They often send shivers down the spines of those around them which is often accompanied by a the admonishment "you're going to give yourself arthritis!".

However, all medical research seems to say the same thing: painless popping is not harmful and there is no proof it contributes to arthritis.

WebMD says:

Painless cracking of joints is as a rule not harmful.

Knuckle "cracking" has not been shown to be harmful or beneficial. More specifically, knuckle cracking does not cause arthritis.

I do not crack my knuckles or my back (anymore now that I am preggo). But for a long time I have cracked my right ankle. It started years ago in ballet - it cracked once on it's own performing a simple plié (french for "bend"; specifically, bending of the knees) and it felt good. From that point on, if I bent my knees enough, my right ankle would "pop" and it always feels good.

Like all joints, you can only "crack" it once every 15 minutes or so. It drives my husband crazy as he firmly believes that it will cause "damage" to my joint.

"You're destroying your ankle!!" He'll yell when he hears it. But, it is to the point that walking down stairs is enough pressure to make the ankle pop now so it happens even without my intention.

Not only do I not have any intention of stopping, I don't think I can at this point!

What about you? Any habitual joint poppers on NewsVine? Anyone with a horror story about how we'll "stay that way"?

But in all seriousness...there was one bit of evidence I found about the negative side of joint popping:

This study, done by Raymond Brodeur and published in the Journal of Manipulative and Physiological Therapeutics, examined 300 knuckle crackers for evidence of joint damage. The results revealed no apparent connection between joint cracking and arthritis; however, habitual knuckle poppers did show signs of other types of damage, including soft tissue damage to the joint capsule and a decrease in grip strength. This damage is most likely a result of the rapid, repeated stretching of the ligaments surrounding the joint.

So pop if you will or must, but know that someone, somewhere, is gonna yell at you sooner or later!

When we are healthy, our health is often the last thing we think about. Worse yet, as humans are so adaptable, as long as we can still feed and dress ourselves - we tolerate all kinds of unhealthy feelings and simply "adjust". You see it in the motorized carts, the painful limp, the wheelchairs, and canes.

"Bad" feelings often take so long to evolve, that we are diabetic, obese, arthritic, in gastrointestinal distress, or having a heart attack before we even notice we have let our health go - taken it for granted - forgotten it has to be maintained.

There is not much to say about the value of one's health - a person tells us how much they value it with the habits they adopt, the lifestyle they live. You can literally see it written on their faces.

Some people never had the luxury of good health. Some people say "hell, we're all gonna die - might as well make it count!". These are normally words spoken by someone who is not in pain, not facing a premature death for something that could have been prevented - looking their loved one in the eye. No, those words are rarely spoken by those folks.

I view my health as a savings account with decent interest. Every effort towards my health is a deposit I make in the bank. Every effort I make that takes away from my health is a debit.

For example, taking a jog, eating a salad, skipping a cupcake, getting to bed early, treating myself to a massage, taking a yoga class - these are deposits.

Eating a bag of chips, staying up way too late, getting drunk, watching 3 hours of TV - these are debits. I try to remember that while these things can be enjoyable that I should do them knowingly and with a conscious realization that they detract from the health of an older me.

When I'm older, I'll want to cash in my health and, hopefully, I'll have saved enough to give me some dignity and ability to enjoy old age.

What deposits do you make on your health? What debits?

On Saturday, I will be 15 weeks pregnant with my first child. It still doesn't feel real! For so many reasons, it's hard to believe!

So far, I have felt a range of nausea in the beginning, never enough to throw up, but definitely disrupt my day, train of thought, and ability to consume foods normally.

But (at the risk of sounding very shallow!) my biggest concern right now is that I feel like I am showing too early! I am 5'3 and started off 116 pounds. At my last doctor's visit, I had gained 2 pounds. It's not the number that bothers me though, it's that in the past 3 or 4 days, my stomach has definitely started to pooch out to the point that my students in my ballet classes notice, as do their parents and my husband.

Of course, most people say I just look "cute". But I don't feel very cute. I know a woman who is 21 weeks along and you cannot tell at all.

I have danced all of my life and always been thin so it is weird to take a shower and see my stomach sticking out a bit and I cannot suck it in (if I try, it is very uncomfortable).

So, Moms, any advice on how to eat healthy and keep the weight to the healthy minimum? Should I be worried that I'm already showing at barely 15 weeks?

Any tips on how you ate throughout the day in a healthy way would be great. My stomach cannot really tolerate soups and heavy foods (like creamy pastas for example), but I still have a sweet tooth and sometimes the only thing that sounds edible is icecream! --- that might explain the poochy stomach!!

Oh, and by the way, I hope you Moms were told over and over again how amazing you are!

Many years ago, my to-be husband stated that one thing he did not like about America (he is from Russia) is that "American men have to pretend they find pregnant women attractive." Oh great, I told him, if I'm ever pregnant, I'll know he thinks I'm ugly.

His defense was that pregnant women aren't supposed to be attractive - they're supposed to be protecting and nourishing their baby. It's unfair to add the burden of trying to be a "sexy pregnant woman" on top of everything they are already doing (creating a human life).

Besides, he pointed out - what is attractive about an oddly protruding belly, huge nipples, hemorrhoids, stretch marks, swollen ankles and mood swings? I had to admit, I couldn't think of anything attractive about that.

So, what do you think? Are pregnant women attractive? Hemorrhoids, huge nipples and all? Or is it all a political correct myth gone awry?

Jaded (adj.) -

1. Worn out; wearied: "My father's words had left me jaded and depressed" (William Styron).

2. Dulled by surfeit; sated: "the sickeningly sweet life of the amoral, jaded, bored upper classes" (John Simon).

3. Cynically or pretentiously callous.

Most of the time, people are referring to #3 when they refer to someone as jaded. To call someone jaded or refer to yourself as such - implies that a state of optimism is ideal and normal and that, by not being optimistic and joyful, you have strayed from your natural state.

The general implication is that children cannot be jaded. Jadedness is a trait that has the potential to come with age. We are to be warriors against the constant onslaught of horrible news, violence, pain, suffering, worry, disease, death, abandonment, lonliness, depression, fatigue, stress, and disappointment.

So, how are you doing on the quest to stay vibrant, optimistic, and joyful? Are you jaded?

A bowl of sugary cereal and ice cold milk. Part of a complete (American) breakfast!

To clarify, I enjoy milk, cheese, and icecream. I am not lactose intolerant (as far as I can tell) and I actually crave milk after a night of too-much drinking.

That aside, in recent years, I have greatly reduced my milk -- and milk-related product intake. Why?

Well, first, let me appeal to your logic:

"Milk’s main selling point is calcium, and milk-drinking is touted for building strong bones in children and preventing osteoporosis in older persons. However, clinical research shows that dairy products have little or no benefit for bones...Dairy products—including cheese, ice cream, milk, butter, and yogurt—contribute significant amounts of cholesterol and saturated fat to the diet...Prostate and breast cancers have been linked to consumption of dairy products, presumably related to increases in a compound called insulin-like growth factor (IGF-I)..." The Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine (PCRM), 2009

Damn! That sucks. If milk doesn't build strong bones, it sort of blows a hole in the reason my Mom was pushing it to me and my siblings as kids like it was an illegal drug.

"Dairy products contribute to a surprising number of health problems. They can impair a child's ability to absorb iron and in very small children can even cause subtle blood loss from the digestive tract. Combined with the fact that milk has virtually no iron of its own, the result is an increased risk of iron deficiency." - Benjamin Spock, MD, 1998

Iron deficiency!? Well, that would explain the hair loss and lack of energy...

"Cow's milk is a foreign substance that has pervaded every corner of our diets... Today there is little doubt that early and frequent feeding of dairy products leads to greatly increased incidence of childhood diabetes." - Linda Folden Palmer, DC, 2007

So it doesn't help your bones or teeth, it increases your risk for iron deficiency and childhood diabetes? The most compelling argument for me is that cow's milk is a foreign substance to the human body.

Think of it like this:

What produces milk of any kind? Mammals

When do mammals produce milk? When they are pregnant

Why do they produce milk when they are pregnant? To feed their baby

When do mammals stop producing milk? When the baby is old enough to eat adult food

So...from this we can deduce the following 1. Milk is produced by pregnant mammals 2. the milk is intended for the mammal's young offspring 3. babies STOP drinking milk once they are old enough to consume "adult food".

EXCEPT humans...who continue to dirnk milk when they are not only babies, but children, teenagers, and adults. Not only that -- they're not drinking the milk of their own species... they are drinking the milk of another species! And that milk isn't intended for them, it's for the offspring of tha mammal.

So, if that mammal (a cow) is not pregnant and producing milk for her baby (which humans would then be stealing) -- we have to find a way to get the cow to produce milk in an unnatural state.

No matter how you look at it: weak bones, weak teeth, iron deficiency, diabetes, drinking foreign milk, or the ethical treatment of animals ---

Why are we drinking milk again?

I don't care about unborn babies.

It's hard to admit, let alone write. But there it is, I am pro-choice. And I don't care about unborn babies.

Before a baby is born, the only person I care about is the woman. Whenever a woman becomes pregnant, my hope and commitment is only to her having access to all of the information she needs. If she decides to carry the baby to full term, that commitment becomes ensuring she knows how to care for herself so that the baby has the best chance of being full-term and healthy.

Ideally, she will have access to vitamins, healthy food, educational programs, an OBGYN that she trusts, and supportive family and/or friends. If not, I support programs being in place to fill those gaps whether they be public or private.

As a woman, I truly believe that when a woman becomes pregnant, her first instinct is to want to keep it. I believe, unless something is horribly wrong with her, she feels an instinct to want to care for it. I support her in doing everything possible to make that happen. I support others in their attempt to reach out to women who are in a percaious state and filling the gaps that will help them fulfill this natural instinct to mother so long as they do so without manipulation and shaming or fear tactics.

If those gaps are not filled and a woman determines that she cannot provide for a child and chooses to abort it - I support her having access to facilities to do so safely. I believe she should be able to do so without shame or violence directed at her. I believe she should have access to counseling if she wants or needs it both before and afterwards.

This is the root of the disconnect between pro-choice and pro-life supporters. Pro-lifers put their emphasis on the unborn. Pro-choicers put their emphasis on the carrier of the unborn.

Photos of fetuses in various stages of development do not move me except in fascination of pure biology. I do not fear the wrath of God. Whenever I am confronted by the radical pro-life movement, I can only think of the women who have made this difficult choice and the extreme disservice it does them to be ridiculed by those who believe they are better than her.

I do not care about unborn babies. I care about the women who carry them; who, regardless of their choice (to abort or give birth), will have to live with it forever - prepared or not.

Is there any common ground that can be found in this extremely sensitive matter?

I was told this story by the man who lived it while working at a funeral home last year. It was and will remain the most powerful love story I have ever heard. I am not sure if it is inappropriate and have gone back and forth, but have decided, since it is technically public information, to share the link to the obituary for the woman whose passing brought this story to me. I implore you to observe it only with the utmost respect and dignity (follow link, search for memorial, last name: Williams). The obituary does not share with you this very true, very real, heart-breaking, heart-warming love story that I will tell you now....

James and Alyce met when they were just 17 and 16 respectively. It was a whirlwind romance and they were quite swept up in eachother, but it wasn't long before WWII had James packing for Europe (he was in the Navy). James provided me with a photo of himself and Alyce at a train station, him in his uniform, her in button up dress and heels, arms around eachother, smiling for the camera. That was the last time that Alyce would see James for over 60 years.

You see, James was a little concerned about how quickly Alyce and himself fell for eachother. He hadn't been with any other girls and the war was eye opening to say the least. He was ashamed to admit it, but he used the opportunity of being overseas to lose contact with Alyce.

Naturally, Alyce's heart was broken when her letters stopped being answered. She was worried about James and didn't know what happened to him. She still loved him dearly. Alyce decided to do something amazing, she joined the Navy. James doesn't know why exactly, but as a woman, I can guess that she simply wanted to be closer to him. I'm sure she knew that it wouldn't lead to their reunion, but it would keep him closer to her somehow. So, imagine that, a young girl joining the Navy during WWII!

Years passed. James came home, fell in love, married, had children. He was a good Catholic man, faithful, kind, loyal, hardworking. He was a good husband and a devoted father. His wife passed away after 40 years together. James was heartbroken and as he healed, he began to think back to his first love, Alyce. He couldn't explain why, but he wanted to find her and make sure she was okay.

Being smart and determined, and with the help of modern technology and his children (who were totally supportive) - he did find Alyce. She was relatively easy to find because of the unique spelling of her name and the fact that she had never gotten married and had the same last name. James was delighted to be in touch with her and crushed to find out she had a very tough life. She had spent her life caring for her sick parents and brother, ironically, injured in the same war James was in. She had no children and had been in a bad relationship.

James told me this: He loved the mother of his children, they had a good life together. His heart was broken because he felt like he was meant to be with Alyce and that her life was damaged because their destiny was to have been together. He felt responsible for Alyce's unhappy life. He felt guilty for being in love with a woman who was not his wife. He was angry with himself for being so immature all those years ago. He was determined to make Alyce's life as happy as he could for as long as he lived.

In 1999, they got married. Judging by the plethora of photos, I'd say she had a very happy decade with James that made up for her heartache.

For the funeral procession, he asked that we play "Red Roses for a Blue Lady". He said it was "her song". It haunts me now when I hear it....seeing James help close Alyce's casket, tears flowing as he followed it to the hearse. After everyone was gone, the song continued to play in the funeral home and I listened to it as I strolled through the vistiation room, looking through her photos on display and reflected on their special story. Listen to it here.

Here's to you, Alyce. I hope you know how much James loved you.

Cute cues are those that indicate extreme youth, vulnerability, harmlessness and need, scientists say, and attending to them closely makes good Darwinian sense. As a species whose youngest members are so pathetically helpless they can't lift their heads to suckle without adult supervision, human beings must be wired to respond quickly and gamely to any and all signs of infantile desire.

Observing that many Floridians have an enormous affection for the manatee, which looks like an overfertilized potato with a sock puppet's face, Roger L. Reep of the University of Florida said it shone by grace of contrast.

In 2007, the number of suicides was twice that of homicides based on statistics from 16 states, according to a report released Thursday by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Suicide is the 11th leading cause of death in the United States.

If you have ever lost someone to suicide and been to a therapist to cope with their loss - one thing you will likely hear is that suicide is "self motivated" and no one can make a person end their life. This may be the therapist's actual belief, but it could also be an attempt to assuage any guilt you may be feeling about your role in their decision.

There are a variety of things that can drive a person to suicide...right? They can suffer from depression, Schizophrenia, Bi-polar Disorder, Manic Depression, they could have recently lost their job, their spouse, their best friend, their parents. Maybe they are in intense physical pain and it is considered Euthenasia? But there have been relatively recent developments in the concept of suicide that contradict the idea that it is purely "self-motivated". Columbine brought the role of bullying into the limelight in regards to it's role in fortelling of school violence. Most recently, the suicide of Pheobe Prince brought unprecedented chanrges against several teens accused of making Pheobe's life a living hell.

If those students are found guilty, it will open the door to a new concept - you can drive someone to suicide. And what is more - you can be prosecuted for their death.

What do you think? Can a person be driven to suicide by another person or another group of people? If so, should that person or those people be held accountable?

Is it a good idea for women to be stopping their periods by continually taking birth control pills?

Aikido has no offensive moves.

You use the attackers energy against them. If they pull on you, you don't pull back, you push forward, into them -- pushing them off their balance.

If they push you, you pull them with you, again getting them off their balance.

In aikido, the phrase we like to use is "The harder they come, the harder they fall."

If you're eating...well, anything, now would be the time to put it down. Consider yourself warned that the following topic makes many uneasy and some even queasy... But it's an important discussion and easier to discuss on the Vine than, say, face to face. It's about cancer...more specifically, colon cancer...more specifically, poop.

In 2009, there were 146,970 new cases of rectal and colon cancer diagnosed. Boy, not much worse than finding out you have cancer - unless it's a cancer of your butt. Pretty hard to purposely reach for sympathy when you have to talk about your butt - more specifically, the inside of your butt.

I am not going to bore you with facts and figures. I am going to ask you to consider the magnificent function your body has of expelling toxins and waste from your body - what an amazing process! How lucky are we that we don't have to allow nasty waste products, gunk, and sludge to build up in our bodies. Nope, our body packages it and sends it out of us. AH! It's refreshing really....

Everyone knows that to flush those nasty things out of our bodies we need fiber (20-35 gms though in some countries they consume up to 77 grms daily!) and water (enough to ensure that fiber doesn't turn to paste, I shudder to say 8 glasses, what a cliche!). Fiber w/o water - water w/o fiber is like a hand w/o fingers.

But more importantly, once you consume your fiber and water, you need a place to expel those toxins once nature calls. Many people work in places where there are only public bathrooms. If you have manners, you probably hold it in until you get home. tsk, tsk, tsk. Meanwhile, those solidified toxins are sitting in your intestines, doing who-knows-what to the lining (where the cells begin to morph into cancer). At best, holding it in causes constipation (mild or severe). At my one office, I fought hard to have new bathrooms built that had walls between each stall (floor to ceiling), music playing, and plenty of ventilation - so no excuses for my co-worker to allow their body to be poisoned!

Most Americans have no idea how good it feels to have their toxin removal system functioning well. You feel light, energetic, clean, less grouchy, and did I say light? Your intestines will be clear to absorb vitamins, minerals, and nutrients.

It's not fun to talk about, it can be downright embarrassing, but it is important. You wouldn't hold your breath, you don't carry your garbage in your purse all day - why hold toxins and garbage in your body?

So, try it today, get some extra fiber, drink some extra water, and get rid of it all as soon as you need to - it will change your world. I don't know if it will prevent you from getting colon cancer, but it might - and it definitely won't cause you to get colon cancer.

So, go ahead.... Fiber + Water + a clean, private bathroom = a happy butt

http://www.cancer.org/docroot/cri/content/cri_2_4_1x_what_are_the_key_statistics_for_colon_and_rectum_cancer.asp
http://www.faqs.org/nutrition/Erg-Foo/Fiber.html

Okay, I must take responsibility for the fact that I chose to get married to a man 20 years older than me, and I have.

Without delving into more obvious questions about my marriage, I'll focus on the topic: sex. He was my one and only lover, passionate, exciting, more or less perfect in bed. Despite having been a virgin, I had been extremely sexual as a youth, and, if I can be honest (as I am with my husband), had been acheiving an orgasm at least 5-7 times a week (and still do).

The sex started to dwindle in our marriage after only four months (we had been together six years at that point). And now, at the age of 25, I find us having sex once a month. Now, I realize that doesn't technically qualify as sexless, but when you include how I feel about the situation - it does. You see, I don't miss the sex...I miss the kissing, the touching, the exploring, the quiet excitment, smiles, come hither looks...Will I never have someone run their hands over me, pulling me close, again? Will I never get to spend an evening totally devoting myself to someone else's physical pleasure?

I feel lonely.

It is exacerbated by the pop-culture belief that I should be turning my husband down right and left. Everywhere I look, I am reminded that most men desire their wives...not mine. 25% of the time, I feel good about myself, I am young, healthy, still dancing frequently (as a ballet dancer in a local company) and I know the reason for our struggle is on his shoulders. 75% of the time, I blame myself and feel like something must be wrong with me. In those times, my insecurities show, I am jealous, angry, and bitter. I have been rejected more times than I care to remember, but in those times, I recall each rejection vividly.

Ballet has become painful at times: acting out romantically passionate pas de deux's - feeling a man's hands on me, even in acting, in a way more powerful than my own husband will touch me anymore. It hurts my heart.

I am out of ideas about how to approach the situation. I cannot afford anymore lingerie, I have run out of roles to play, and frank discussions make my husband defensive.

Meanwhile, it feels like society is mocking me....if I have to hear about sexual addiction one more time...I might scream.

Or, "A tree is identified by the fruit it produces."

What kind of fruit do you produce? Would I eat the fruit I have been producing?

...Or if you are of a religious persuasion, "A tree is identified by the fruit it produces."

When did I become so bitter and hateful? When did I first deliver a low blow without regret or a cutting remark with delight?

I am tempted to define myself as compassionate, forgiving, open-minded, and flexible. Yet I find my actions and words define me, more often than I care to remember, as resentful, jealous, stubborn, and cold. How can the definition of who I am be so different from the definition of who I want to be? I realize now that you cannot be a compassionate, forgiving, open-minded, and flexible person while saying and doing things that are resentful, jealous, stubborn, and cold.

I am humbled to recognize how far I have drifted from the person I was chasing. Now it seems I have chased her away completely. But, alas, she is merely hiding and waiting for me to find her. Every time I give into my base instincts, she finds another hiding place. Yet every time I reach beyond myself, she reveals herself once more.

Perhaps, if I keep confronting the qualities I used to deny...perhaps if I admit that I am not always coated in loving-kindness...perhaps I can rise to the challenge of leaving everything and everyone I come in contact with a little better than I found it and in time I will be able to capture the girl I have always wanted to be.

And maybe, just maybe, if I stop defending my ugly side and forgive myself for having it; I'll give myself the power to heal thyself.

What ugly qualities do you admit to having? Do you forgive yourself? Can you forgive yourself?

When we forgive our ugliness and the ugliness of others, we essentially give permission to lay down the shield, stop defending, and begin progressing to a place that is healthier and happier than before.

Before Feminism:
Wake up at 6:00 a.m., make eggs and bacon in my bathrobe, get the children dressed and off to school, make my husband's lunch and kiss him goodbye, do a load of laundry, wash the dishes, make the beds, take the chicken out to defrost, eat light lunch, shower and dress, work on my quilt, take a trip to the market for groceries, put groceries away, greet children, help with homework, make dinner, freshen up my make up, greet husband, eat dinner with family, put children to bed, pack lunches for next day, spend time with husband, go to bed.

After Feminism:
Wake up at 5:00 a.m., jog, walk the dog, shower and dress, toast and pass out pop-tarts, get children dressed and off to school, leave before husband is out of the shower, work at office for seven hours, pick up pizza, pick up children, drive children to soccer practice, wash clothes while children are gone, pick children up, eat cold pizza, load dish washer, pack lunches for next day, fold laundry, put kids to bed, pay bills, put out the trash, walk the dog, call pest control about ants, check stock portfolio, get into bed, hear husband come home at midnight, pretend not to know he's having an affair.