For Good Measure

My youngest recently asked what she should be learning in high school? Math? Science? Social skills? College preparation?

While all her points had merit, I answered a bit more metaphorically.

I suggested she become a sponge.

She broke out in laughter.

“You want me to hang out in the kitchen sink?” she asked.

While I had envisioned something a little less literal, I had to acknowledge her comparison that high school was a bit like the kitchen sink with its mix of good, bad, wanted, discarded, curious and challenging.

I went on to suggest she absorb it all  – curiosities, interests, things that scare her, things that challenge, hard work, friends, her mistakes, theirs.

Adolescence is a time to build backstory. In a few short years the adult journey begins, but for now, it’s all about gaining perspective. Her emotionally-driven, highly-sensitive sense of self will ingrain these fledging experiences into her very marrow. Lessons to serve her for life. Joys to provide solace during difficult times. Life skills that will only sharpen over time.

Middle age, on the other hand, is interesting. As women, our child-rearing years are behind us. Consequently, our roles are shifting in our children’s lives. Family dynamics are changing. Marriages are evolving. Careers are either succeeding, stalling or taking different paths.

We have an immense history to reflect upon and an unknown future ahead. The generations who have come before us were tight-lipped and hushed of these transitional stages. While they shook up the dynamic, they were mute on the process. Our generation now bridging between the closeted and the open. The Boomers versus Gen Z. We are the thread that binds the two.

Our generation has their stories, but we choose the ones we wish to share. Transparency a fancy dress we try on when the mood fits.  Have we asked ourselves what we are telling the younger generations? What advice are we giving? What examples have we provided?

This coming December, I launch yet another story. Unlike those beforehand, this one is real. The plot happened. My family lived it.  I hope on some level it resonates, inspires, and some where along the way, gives a voice to the challenges we all face as humans. While our obstacles are not all the same, for each of us, they are no less real.

There’s a quiet that preludes chaos. While April has always been an active month filled with birthdays, holidays, travel, and end of the school year hullabaloo, this annual rotation I added in manuscript and content deadlines. I’m not saying the months leading up to this point have been calm, far from, but the routine created a sense of balance against the chaos of creation.

We are a family of creators. My father an architect, mother a sculptor, as I author this page I’m jetting headlong to New York City for Mia’s annual Cornell Fashion Expo. We are those people.  Humans with some innate drive to leave something behind – a lasting fingerprint on life with the intent to benefit humanity in some obscure, minute way. A gesture a little longer lasting than a smile to a stranger, if you know what I mean.

It’s in this alternate reality where I’ve lived for the last year. Writing, stirring and creating a stage set of my kitchen and home in order to illustrate the story I’m about ready to share. I can equate it to the final moments of pregnancy, the time when you hold everything still and contained with only the promise of what the future holds.

Over these next few weeks, I’ll slowly climb out of my own head and kitchen, reentering the real world. I’m looking forward to connecting more, visiting friends, thinking less … but most of all, holding the hand of this new book that’s about to be born.

A good cookbook is an escape – to a geographical place or culture, or more abstractly, to a sense of calm and nourishment.

Everyone eats and food is vital to our health and well being.  Old adage aside, we really are, what we eat.

When my eldest daughter was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes in 2016, not only was I ignorant to the details of her condition, but I was entirely unprepared for its effect on our home, specifically the kitchen. As I came to quickly understand, for a diabetic, every bite of every meal is a reminder of the freedom lost to an illness, as diabetes is a chronic disease wholly-centered around food.

According to the CDC, 37 million people live with diabetes in the United States with 1.4 million Americans diagnosed annually. Additionally, another 96 million are prediabetic.

At some point, each and every one has struggled to navigate the constrictions of this disease.  I know I did. Over time, my fear lead to research; anxiety to stirring; and what resulted after six years of sleepless nights monitoring blood sugar levels was an arsenal of delicious recipes fueling not only the body, but the soul.

I’m happy to announce For Good Measure will debut on bookshelves nationwide in 2024. The full-color, hardcover cookbook will feature the flavorful, layered food we all savor. However, unlike most “diabetic books,” the recipes are created with simple ingredients, no artificial sweeteners, or processed substitutes, while being naturally low in carbohydrates.

Recipes aside, the book also tells our story.  Based in California, the food will be shot at our home & plated on San Francisco’s Heath Ceramics; produce & farm images will be shot at our local, nationally-revered Chinos Farm; and as the ocean plays an integral role in our lifestyle, we hope to capture its beauty. Finally Berkley-based, West Margin Press will bring the book to life and give it the wings to land in your local bookstore.

I’m hoping with my heart and hands For Good Measure will inspire you. Perhaps it will be the cookbook that captures your eye as you browse your favorite bookstore hungry and dreaming of the west coast.

Someone once asked me why I write. I responded without hesitation, “Because I love to.”

My day starts with pencil to paper, journaling. What began as random musings, has seemingly turned into a cabinet of bound pages detailing the better part of my children’s lives. Motherhood changes you. 

Ironically, I began drafting a manuscript when I was pregnant with my eldest daughter. On a recent trip to NYC, I visited historic 103 Orchid Street in the Lower East side. Scenes lifted from that immigration story I had penned two decades before and drowned out the street noise. I watched my daughter cross the street and smiled thinking of how far we’ve come.

I’ll admit, several additional manuscripts have filled the years. One found wings with an ill-fated debut. The rest are part of my personal collection. My daughters read them. They prod me to write more. “A children’s book?” “Young adult?”

After tech writing through the pandemic, I’ve been able to refocus the last six months on a new project. A cookbook rooted in managing my daughter’s type 1 diabetes coupled with my love of all things culinary. I wanted to leave the hard work of blending both skills behind, both literally & tangibly. 

As every writer knows, publishing is an interesting business. Definitely not for the faint of heart. So I’ve put this latest project out there with the hope it will be the silver lining to my daughter’s greatest childhood challenge, as well as, inspiration to the millions worldwide who have lost their freedom to diabetes.

Rain falls in whispers much like the day Mia was born. This week, we are passing another annual milestone: her Diaversary. Did rain fall that life-altering day?  I can’t recall.

This is the last year we will celebrate together. Mia’s relocating to the other side of the country. Her dream school and thousands of miles stretching between us. 

Is she ready?  Am I?

The pandemic shifted our perspectives. It brought a heightened sense of anxiety to our already intense world. I didn’t clorox the groceries, but I would be lying to say it didn’t cross my mind. Thankfully as an adult, I had the skills and mental capacity to place the pandemic within some frame of context. Not at all saying this time was easy, far from. Only meaning, I approached the pandemic from a much different place than my children. Especially … my high school senior with type1 diabetes.

Attempting to create understanding and awareness of a pandemic without crossing over to an End of the World scenario is like running blindfolded through an ever-changing hedgerow maze. Managing a compromised teen during a lockdown is beyond words. The harrowing feelings of isolation, anxiety and desperation only intensified by their condition. 

This past year, I watched in horror as my gregarious, intrinsically-motivated daughter turned inward to revisit her emotional post-diagnosis mental state. The challenging “My life is over” … “What is the point?” time when her adolescent issues of identity and acceptance were further ravaged by the onset of a chronic disease. 

We worked hard through that period, one painfully slow step at a time. I can attest the slope was often muddy, and we slipped a lot. However in the end, we matured, we learned, and we found immeasurable inner strength. Last March, in a blink, our hard work slowly faded with each new COVID outbreak.

Chronic illness demands a unique skill set – Perseverance, Adaptability, Tenacity and Patience. We feel most days like a poster in a motivational speaker’s office. However, we don’t get to frame a catchy phrase on the wall, we have to live it. 

Add in the teen issues of alcohol, drugs, bad diet, sexuality, and peer pressure, as a parent, the sinking pit in your stomach grows. You hope you’ve planted enough seeds to help your young adult navigate between right and wrong, but your well-tended garden most days seems full of weeds. Sleepless nights are lost strategizing about keeping your teen safe and alive, until they develop the ability to do so on their own. All the while, honoring the delicate balance of parental responsibility against budding independence and identity.

With graduation weeks away, I ask myself Have I prepared her enough? 

I make mental checklists. I hear a nagging quality to my voice. I want to tell myself to be quiet. I can only imagine what she’s thinking. 

Mia understands diabetes, carb-counting, diet, exercise, the importance of rest and how to navigate the feelings of burnout and depression, but will she have the strength to manage all these factors on her own freshman year in a post-pandemic world? 

Stopping to inhale, I remember hearing her CGM alarm last night only once as she dragged herself out of bed and corrected her blood sugar.  I listen to the excitement in her voice as she talks about the classes she’s going to attend next fall and the inspiring people she’ll meet. I see the sparkle in her eye as she looks up from writing her graduation speech and the spring in her step as she practices walking in the new shoes she purchased for commencement. I remind myself, it’s not my journey anymore, it’s hers. In the lifelong relay, my daughter’s grasping the baton out of my hand and running with it, leaving me to finally catch my breath.

Plant-based meals are on trend right now.  We’re seeing fresh vibrant salads and mouth-watering caramelized root vegetables popping up everywhere from the grocery store to social media. The culinary world is screaming “Eat your vegetables!”

Though as we know, every trend carries a caveat. Sadly, this year’s is no exception. I hate to admit, but all vegetables are NOT the same. Outside of the obvious taste, color and texture, there is the complex subject of nutrition value. For the purpose of this article, I’m going to focus on what impacts our every meal – CARBOHYDRATES.

Let’s back up a little, starting with TOTAL versus NET carbs. Food contains different types of carbohydrates. Simply, they are digested differently by every body, person to person, but for simplicity we won’t go there. We’re going to appeal to the majority, even if you are lucky enough to devour an entire potato without a blood sugar spike.

TOTAL carbohydrates are just what the name implies: the total number of carbohydrates in a food including starch, fiber and sugar.

So what are NET carbohydrates? A NET calculation includes only the carbohydrates the body can fully digest into glucose. For example, the body cannot fully digest fiber. To calculate the net carbs, we SUBTRACT the grams of fiber from the total carbohydrates resulting in a NET carbohydrates number.

Back to vegetables. There are two major categories. Above ground and below.

Above ground vegetables include edible leaves {lettuce, spinach, kale, bok choy}, flowers {broccoli, artichoke, cauliflower}, stalks {celery, asparagus, chard, fennel} & fruit { tomato, squash, eggplant, cucumber}.

Root vegetables grow underground at the base of the plant: bulbs {onion, garlic, shallot}, roots {carrot, radish, turnip, beet} & tubers { potato, jicama, turnip}. They absorb water and nutrients to feed the plant. So while they are nutritional powerhouses, low in calories, and high in antioxidants, they can also carry a heavy carb load.

It is a majority rule that if a vegetable grows above ground it has a lower carb-load. However, there are always exceptions.  Those vegan sweet potato fries … it goes without saying, they may not be your blood sugar’s best friend.

REFERENCES

https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/326457.php

https://www.health.harvard.edu/staying-healthy/the-pros-and-cons-of-root-vegetables

Home is the place you return to, take your shoes off, and let comfort hold you in its warm embrace. Everyone needs a place of refuge to unwind, recharge and nurture. The world throws a derailment or challenge into our path at every turn. A “great day” is normally due to a lack of chaos, rather than a life-altering, smile-inducing event.

Living with Type1 diabetes adds a tiresome list of complications to our one-foot-in-front-of-the-other journey. More often than not, life feels taxing, if not overwhelming. How many times have you cracked over hitting a stop light, when you’re simply running late? Or broken into tears because you’re drained from too many sleepless nights fighting blood sugar?

Many diabetics suffer from diabetes distress, which is a cute name for a condition centered around frustration, anxiety and fear. Unlike depression, this condition is not psychological, rather its situational. Managing insulin, blood-sugar, diet, exercise, highs, lows, and sleep deprivation every single day is … exhausting.

I’ll admit, we are masters of our own universe. We’ve created this crazy, over-scheduled, always-on world we live in. At the same time however, we can also create a place of solace. For diabetics, this stress-free space is paramount to health and well-being. Stress can throw blood sugar levels in all directions, faster than a candy bar on an empty stomach.

We all conjure up a different image of the perfect nest. For our family, we’re an organized bunch. Our diabetes supply cupboard is stocked with needles, glucose, test strips, skin-tac …so there’s never a hunt. Organization carries over to all aspects of our lives — meal planning, lunch packing, where the car keys are stashed. It helps keep things simple and well-oiled, reserving energy for bigger issues.

Surrounding ourselves with comforts has made our house a home. Momentos from places we’ve visited, music and plants – inside, outside, and on our dinner plate. They make excellent companions, in addition to the cat, whether planted or cut, instantly adding life and energy. Food, however, is the central web from which our daily routines are spun.

Coffee brewing in the morning after returning from the gym, low-carb baked goods cooling on the counter, the smell of dinner simmering in the crockpot after a long day.  It’s a lot easier to nourish ourselves when we know what we’re eating and where it came from. Our pantry is stocked with tasty snacks, meals are made in abundance so there are always leftovers waiting in the fridge, and dinner is together more often than not.

In many ways, our home returns us to a simpler time.  Where the little things matter more than what we’ve accomplished. Negative energy is kept outside. We talk to each other, plant seeds of change, and hug a lot. Stress creeps in when you let it, at our house, we ask it to remain on the other side of the front door.

REFERENCES

1. https://diatribe.org/diabetes-distress-why-its-common-and-what-we-can-do-about-it

2. https://spectrum.diabetesjournals.org/content/27/2/143

A couple of weeks back was the last full moon of the decade. Round & luminous it hung in the sky, it’s magical glow lighting my path as I took a walk amid the twinkling holiday lights. It was one of those moments you wish you could preserve forever. I stopped, took a breath, and promised myself I’d never forget the quiet, calm around me, which by chance happened to be the antithesis of the day that had just played out.

I thought about the last decade. In all honesty, the past ten years haven’t been the easiest. I entered 2010 with a healthy family at a time in life where you’ve figured things out, but still have so much ahead. Milestones seem to arrive at every turn and each is exciting and new. I had recently left my “real job” and was relishing motherhood with it’s playdates, parties, and countless hours shared with my young children.

In many ways, these were the halcyon days before the storm. Within the year our business would falter, my husband would be diagnosed with Meniere’s disease, and the perfect always-sunny life I had grown accustomed to would crumble before my eyes.

Jump ahead six years, we had started a new business, my husband found treatment after unsuccessful surgeries and years of debilitation, and best of all … my children were growing and happy. We were grounded, thankful and stronger.  I was launching a novel, Mia had started middle school and my youngest first grade, and then …. diabetes arrived.

On the precipice of this new decade, 100 years after the roaring twenties, I can’t help but wonder what’s to come? I didn’t notice the moon ten years ago, I was too enamored by the glow of my own little world. But I notice it now, I’ve learned that much along the way.

I think about what I need to work on, who I’ve become, and what probably should change. Lists swirl in my head. I stop and take another deep breath.  I’m not one for resolutions — you won’t find me sitting by the fire sipping a beverage promising that tomorrow I’ll alter the patterns and characteristics that have become my life. Although at this time of the year, we feel such pressure to pledge change, don’t we? We’re encouraged to plan ahead, put the past behind, and create new versions of ourselves. In truth, the old is what makes us who we are. While we can make subtle changes to our routine through diet, exercise and hopefully mindset, at the end of the day, every year has ups & downs, every decade highs & lows. These moments, good and bad, have shaped us into the person we see when we look in the mirror.

For all the lows the last decade handed me, there was a high to match it. Life through it’s incredible journey has made me stronger, wiser, hopefully calmer, and more empathetic. So at the turn of this new year, let’s resolve to be ourselves and love our lives. For we only have one chance at it … and retouching isn’t real.