Going Vegan = A Feminist Act...Who Knew?

By Ann Taintor

Who knew that me becoming a vegan was actually challenging societal gender norms?  I am bemused by the responses of some younger women and a few older women to me when they heard I have become vegan. They all said similar things along the lines of, "What is your husband going to eat?"  The body language that accompanies this question is a look of concern which leaves me wondering if what they are really asking is, "Will you have time to cook two meals?" And "Are you sure that's really wise in terms of caring for your family and keeping your husband happy?"

Receiving these questions just floored me - is it not 2013 versus 1813?

By Ann Taintor

My mother decided to be vegetarian when I was about 12 (at the same time I read Diet for a Small Planet and decided to become a vegan). What this meant for her however was cooking one meal for she and I and another meal for my father and two sisters. As you can guess - this was a lot of extra work. The jeering and criticisms of her alternative diet from the carnivores did not make for a harmonious home either. So it was short lived for her but not for me. I was a vegan until my mid twenties when I had a iron deficiency and then went vegetarian.  When Ellie was born as I have written about, I started eating meat again and did so until this January 2013.  To those of you who may have thought "See!" when I shared the iron deficiency - remember that I didn't say I was a very good vegan.  There were not the resources online (actually there was no  online other than email) available today.  And at that time I was a very, very poor artist living in Western Mass trying to figure out my life.  It was often a choice between should I buy this apple or this tube of paint? But that's another story.

Zooming back to the matter at hand, I am grateful to have found a mate who had no interest in a traditional, feminine mystique type, of marriage set up, where, as in the houses we were both raised in, the woman does all the cooking and cleaning and everyone sits down for meals together at the same time every evening. My experience with that growing up was to see how stressful all that cooking was on my mother. As a result she often over cooked the food and meals were a source of tension which only fed the fire of our family dysfunction.

Stemming from this, I never, ever wanted to have us all sit down at 5pm and have dinner. Ever. I rather not be married if this was the expectation. In fact, getting married at all was a stretch for me. I only did it to make sure Ellie was protected in all the ways children of married people are.  That, and to be totally truthful, I got tired of them stopping me in the emergency room as Ellie and Dave (she has his last name) would get ushered in and because I had a different last name they would stop me and say ask, "Who are you?" My exasperated reply was always, "I'm the mother!!!".  Seconds count when your kid has hydrocephalus - for crying out loud.  That had to end.

Orange Cashew Cream Dressing that Dave made
 when I was away on business.

Atop those strong sentiments, things with Ellie have also taken a non traditional path that meant differences in eating times etc. She only eats purees and does so about 5 times per day and before that was eating around the clock via drip feeds and had/has oral aversions.  So though we do sit down together regularly as a family usually on weekends, there is a lot of working with Ellie one to one around food and making it safe.  Additionally, Dave is not your traditional guy in that growing up he regularly cooked for his younger siblings.  He had a working mother and being the oldest he understood how hard she worked for both her job and the family - he didn't take it for granted.  As a result of all that cooking as a teenager, he knows how to fend for himself and others in the kitchen very well and did so before we met. Lucky me.

For the record - I do not cook meals every day for anyone but Ellie.  Dave and I cook for each other when we are already making something for ourselves.   We coordinate and both cook larger dishes like a soup or a casserole but again not every day.  He more often then not will make me dinner because he eats it regularly, whereas I do not. And he makes the best big salads that are filled with nuts and tons of veg and hummus for example.  I have been into making new vegan concoctions like lentil and rice chard rolls with cashew cream and smothered in tomato sauce and tons of green tonics and juices and cold soups - basically going 80% raw and 20% cooked. And he eats what I make when he wants and vice versa. But it's casual and 50/50.   Other than Ellie's diet which I made up all the recipes for and watch over very closely, we both do the cooking.

To answer the question directly, "What does your husband think (of me going vegan)", here is a list of his responses:

Life Alive inspired Buddha Bowl that Dave made

• He bought us a half farm share at the local organic farm
• He and Ellie planted a ton of seedlings that he purchased the seeds for by mail order and all the soil and pots etc., that he waters and tends to daily with Ellie when she can be torn away from her fijits who are a little more exciting than seedlings - though when they first popped out of the soil she was very excited! ;-)
• He drinks green juices with me every day of his own volition
• He solicits the choice and regularly encourages us to go to vegan restaurants.
• He cut back on eating so much meat and increased his veggie intake and has lost 25 pounds doing so (that's been a really great side effect of me going vegan)
• One night I came in and he was about to watch Vegecate on Netflix and asked me to join him. Since watching that he is researching how to get protein and iron out of plant based foods.

In sum, his reaction has been very supportive and he is still reacting in a way that is making me very happy in that he sees the positive changes in me and wants to come along down this path - in his own way but near enough to me just the same. He has lost weight and is feeling better. There is a lightness between us.  So that is what he thinks of it and how he responded to me going vegan for the 2013 record.

I think there are all different ways to structure a life and a marriage. The more creativity that is worked into that structuring the more room for individual expression and bliss. I am always alarmed and saddened to see that the legacy of hundreds of years of gender inequality is still with us. I lecture on this topic in my graduate courses so I know the stats. But in this question, "What is your husband going to eat?" there is found all that inequality as a societal norm - like DNA coding that seems very hard to change.

Happy Father's Day Dave!

Dave, from the very start, has been a hands-on Dad. When I became pregnant with Ellie I did a bad thing. I took the stick test and then told Dave it was negative when it was actually positive. I did this because we were not married. Though we were in love, I wanted to know how he truly felt about it. I, in no way wanted to rope him in or anything like that. I had made up my mind from an early age that I only wanted a father for my future children who would be involved and just as in love with them as I knew I would be. So I did this bad thing and told him it was negative. The sudden drop of his face, the downcast of his eyes the hope that washed away in that moment was enough to tell me he had been just as excited about this as I was. And he was. Of course I told him right away it was positive. We took another test the next morning to be sure which incidentally was the morning we left for our dear friend’s wedding in Spain. Our journey into parenthood was off to an exciting start.

I couldn’t have picked a better father for my child or a better partner to be a parent with. To say Dave has been involved and is hands on is a huge understatement. He went to every prenatal visit with me. He was just as excited about every phase and stage of the pregnancy as I was. He looked after me like I was made of glass during that time. He solved problems and dealt with all of my hormonal swings. He found where the maternity clothes were. He found us a great doctor. At the time we became pregnant I was revising my dissertation and had started this rather big job at a big company and was a little overwhelmed. I was thrilled and connecting and talking with Ellie in my belly as well as being a little overwhelmed. Dave was there for me and Ellie. He moved into my little studio apartment and it was great. When we got a bigger place just before Ellie was born we were disappointed not to be able to hear the other person speaking because the place was so big. Two bedrooms after all is quite a switch from a one room studio. So we had to work harder to maintain our on going dialog. I miss that little apartment overlooking the marina with the boats that twinkled at night.

The stress of Ellie’s traumatic beginning did not put distance between us. Instead it brought us closer. Dave has a great deal of grace under pressure and is the most loving father and hardworking man for his family I have ever met. I am sure there are some who think I don’t deserve him – at times myself included.

Dave was right there beside me in the NICU – 100 percent present. We are a great team. There is nothing we cannot solve when we work together. And we have had our fair share of obstacles and trauma to deal with.

I think Ellie is the luckiest little girl I know. I always feel very proud that she has such a great father. She loves her Dada too. Loves! The scenario that has always epitomized my ideal parenting situation is that if children hurt themselves they would run to either parent. It wouldn’t matter which parent because they were just as close to both. I have lived to realize this dream. Ellie is equally close to each of us. However, as her biology dictates, she looks to us for different things.

To Dave she looks for praise and courage. She will do something great like show me a new word she can read and I will give her a lot of praise and she will smile, but then she will look to see what Dada thinks. She is clearly much more satisfied when Dada tells her she is beautiful. She will also try anything new for Dave. She is very brave when he is near. Most nights she wants both of us there when she goes to sleep but the last toss and turn ends her up snuggling into Dada. Seeing how much love they have for each other is a mother’s dream. We are the Three Musketeers. We are an unbeatable team. We each have our own special role.

To say that Dave is a great father, a hands-on involved father is an understatement. From the point we found out Ellie was on her way to us, he has given and continues to give his whole heart to her and to me: unabashedly, unashamedly, unconditionally with creativity and passion.

Happy Father’s Day Dave!

Picture Descriptions: From the top

1. A rare photo of Dave with a rare beard that I am sure he only grew because I asked him to when I was pregnant. I still love it on him. In this pic he is holding the collostrum from my first attempts to pump for Ellie.

2. Dave doing kangeroo care with Ellie in the NICU in November 2002

3. Giving Ellie her very first bath in the NICU, December 2002

4. Cradling Ellie after her resevoir surgery - January 2002

5. Taking notes on all sitting by the isolet in the NICU. We filled 4 sketchbooks altogether with notes on everything from tracking her day to day stats from rounds to observations to research questions for the doctors as well as a few sketches of her.

6. More kankeroo time November 2002. This was pretty amazing because Ellie opened her eyes and lifted her hand to touch Dave's chest. An incredibly touching moment for out baby who was not even supposed to be in the world until February of 2003.

7. Ellie in the growers and feeders row in her crib. Dave making faces with her in the mirror - as usual making the therapy seem like play for her.

8. Hanging out on the futon in December 2003 after we had moved to Boston. Dave stayed home with Ellie for a year and during that time got her to start signing and vocalizing.

9. First time finger painting in summer 2004

10. Ellie was the flower girl at our wedding on August 22, 2005 at Castle Durrow Ireland. Dave cleans up good, no?!

11. Dave and Ellie on Halloween 2006

12. Dave holding Ellie so she can see over the bars on her first trip to the zoo, May 2007

It's Official: We're Batshit Insane

Ah, there's nothing better than a man who knows how to handle a drill.

What is a three day weekend for if not to work on your ramshackle house? Yay for us! Yay for our initiative and optimism and courage in the face of the unknown. We are laying down a hardwood floor in our sixteen by thirty one foot kitchen/everything room. (I can't bear to tell you how many square feet that is as I may need to be medicated if I do.)

We have said a sad farewell to the plywood we had been living on for almost three years. The impetus for this farewell - the humongous splinter I sustained in my heal just minutes before the decision to finally finish the floor was made. Yes, that was how the madness began. Does blood poisoning set in that quickly? Maybe I just have a fast metabolism.

Dave and I are nothing if not spontaneous - this has it's pros and cons. Dave procured the wood through all manner of financial magic and space shifting to get 25 bundles of it home in our car. We (mostly him) started on the task. Sanding down rough edges, laying down red resin paper, figuring out how to make the whole thing straight so you don't feel dizzy when you look at it. Dave is a wizard to have figured this out in our 1935 wonder house where not a straight line or right angle has made an appearance since original beams were milled.

See the bit of white along the wall - that was my handy spacko work. I think we have already saved about $200 dollars on the heat we haven't lost. Why we did not think of that one three years ago I will never know.

However, spontaneity has its price and we are not two single people on for the task. No, we have a kid - you might have notice the beauty with the blond curls and most pinchable cheeks on the planet. Yes, well, said child doesn't just disappear because we have suddenly lost our sense of reason and decided to take on a huge task. So, since Dave is only slightly more handy than me, cough,cough, I would be the one to hang out with Ellie. No problem there, she's great company. But Dave quickly found out that laying down a hardwood floor is more of a two person job than we first envisioned. That same vision included finishing putting down the boards on day 2 and then doing the finish each night. See what I mean about having lost our minds?

Another price of spontineaity is that the few people we asked for help were unavailable. Yes, they are snug by their cozy fires, sipping their drink of choice, very happy that they had other plans. But we must have had some good karma due to us because this man showed up on the scene day one and day two. P is officially in my good books - FOREVER. He has made all the difference and single-handedly saved us from the abyss.

Stay tuned for more pics as the hardwood rules over the plywood splintered sub floor. We should be done in several months...

Musings of Weetabix: a thin slice of our life

Me: Thanks bebe, that salad hit the spot

Hubby: Yes, pesto is so versatile; you can eat it with a lot of things

Me: Ya, it’s great

Hubby: Hmmm. You could nearly eat it with Weetabix (looks thoughtfully at the microwave)

Me: Eeeuuuwww! Weetabix with milk and sugar microwaved into a mealy mush is bad enough, but with pesto?

Hubby: Do you know the Irish eat more cereal than any other country on earth?

Me: That explains a great deal.

Wild Blue Yonder

Hello and Happy New Year! We have been to the mountains visiting my sister and now we are off to Ireland for a family wedding and England for more therapy at Advance for Ellie.

I am hoping to catch up with myself there and share some of the more interesting observations and pics from Christmas and our travels. Dave and I decided to take a huge step towards greater intimacy by sharing one lap top for the entire trip. I know, I know, it's batshit insane and could result in divorce or the death of one of us or somebody losing an eye. But it has to be done. Minimizing the amount of crap we have to schlep across the Atlantic is definitely a higher priority than marital bliss. Giving us the benefit of the doubt for being rational adults who will be able to share said lap top, I should be posting again soon. If I don't post soon, you know that my man has won the lap top armwrestle and I am tied to a chair so he can surf cyberspace in peace. Ahhhh togetherness, there's nothing better.

Husband Training 101

Me, “How do you like my hair this way?”

Dave, “It’s alright.”

Me, “It’s alright but you like it better another way?”

Dave, “No. I like it curly. It’s cute that way.”

Me, “Yeah. Only an idiot would not like it this way.”

Dave, “I’m glad I said the right thing. I wouldn’t want to be branded for saying the wrong thing.”

Living up to your biological destiny

I have to admit in all honesty, having sex to make a baby is BORING! Boring, boring, boring. Gone is that semiconscious thought that you could get pregnant when you don’t want to. The taboo element is all but shot. There is nothing naughty anymore – it’s suddenly good and sanctioned by all religious bodies. Don’t get me wrong; it can also knock your sex life up a notch. But the pressure of trying to conceive is like having sex with a gun to your head. Ok, I know some of you are going, “Right on!”. But this is not that kind of blog.

When you are purposefully trying to make a baby there is no more sitting on fence letting God or biology decide for you. This kind of low maintenance approach to procreation results in many pregnancies. Some of these pregnancies are Happy Accidents. This is a term my painting professor Oscar Walters used to describe the phenomenon of unexpectedly creating a brilliant passage by accidentally mixing the wrong color or going slightly overboard on a transparency and voila – something superb is created. Ellie was conceived in such a way. She was conceived in love and is the best Happy Accident ever. Both of us thought to ourselves, “One time without protection will be fine. We probably couldn’t get pregnant anyway.” Both of us, even more unconsciously, wanted to create a baby. When we found out we were pregnant it was a very, very, happy day.

Now, almost 4 years later we are married, own a ramshackle house and offspring numero uno needs a sibling. We get to live out our biological purpose instead of playing the titillating game of ovulation roulette. Some new age books I read well before I ever had sex described how there is this great burst of light in each person’s aura as they make love. As husband and wife reach the climax of their lovemaking this big supernova of energy results in conception. I say, “Whoooeey!” It sucks. It’s more like, “Honey, it’s time.” Or, “Sorry Hon, it’s not time.” And better wrap it all up in the missionary position, please. To quote Monty Python, “Every sperm is sacred!” No more being handcuffed to the chandelier or thrown up against a wall in mad spontaneity. So for those of you slogging it out to fulfill your biological purpose and just want to get on with it, here are some interesting conception tips imparted upon us from various well-wishers:

1. One of our new Bostonian friends told me of her great Irish uncle, who, after coitus, would lift his wife’s legs up and give her a “bit of a sheeaaake”. No lie – 13 kids in that family.

2. Know when you ovulate. It’s different for every woman. The first way to get a clue about this is to know what Day One of your cycle is. Day one is the day when you get a full period. Start counting from there. The drips and drabs that may appear the day before do not count.

3. This one might possibly be my favorite and is from my doctor. If you both climax at the same time it seems that the cervix, in it’s ecstasy, acts like a big Hoover vacuum and sucks up all the sperm.

4. Doc also warned not to use KY, Astroglide, Surgilube or anything else. Even though the bottles of said lubricants may claim no spermacide, all are antibacterial and more effective for birth control than the sponge, killing up to 70% of the little guys. He then told me what the ultimate lubrication was. Luckily it’s free and available everywhere.

5. Today a friend of mine, an excellent RN, filled me in on some interesting gender differences. It seems that girl sperm, meaning those carrying the *X chromosome, plan their journey. They hang out a while and get to know the landscape. They are in no hurry, they are there for the long haul and can live up to 5 days. Male sperm (Y chromosome carriers) are in a race to the death. They only live up to 24 hours so it’s a mad dash to the finish. Not so surprising, eh? So if you want to make a girl baby, have sex a few days before you ovulate but not the day of. If you want a boy, figure out exactly what day you ovulate and go, go, go on that day.

6. If you get pregnant and you are over 35 it is called a Geriatric Pregnancy. I would bet money it was a man who decided to call it that. He was probably making up for the fact that male sperm are

wusses.

Ok – there you have it. Of course I am not an expert and views expressed in this post are in no way shape or form representative of any medical body. And lastly, for those of you reading this and in doing so have come up with a million ways to slag Dave (you know who you are) go easy on him. He needs to keep his energy up. ;-)

*If you’ve no idea what I am talking about, please do not procreate. There are enough Dumb Asses in the world. For an example see the 14th bullet in the About Me post.

Being married, being me and the in between

Why, at times, does my husband remind me of my father? Creepy as that is, it might not be him but me. My reaction to getting directed on things that I am perfectly competent at and might have actually taught him a thing or two about is, you could say, a bit strong. I married the oldest child you see and he had a lot of responsibility growing up looking after his siblings. So naturally, he is a bit bossy. But still, for crying out loud, I don’t need just in time lessons on how to drive while driving or load up the wood stove. I grew up with a two wood stoves in a house solely heated by wood. He grew up in a centrally gas heated row house in Dublin. Who knows more about wood and wood stoves? That would be me. He did not even know what kindling was until I told him or how to start a fire until I taught him. I yi yi. But still, another girl might think it’s cute. Another woman might not mind being told how to do every day things by men. Maybe it's because of #11 in the about me post.

But why me? Is this normal to get so much direction? Or for some reason do I look entirely incompetent? Do I somehow attract question and a need in men to “help” my sorry ass? I would really like to know. Or are they just all this way – ever helpful and know all and hovering? But of course not so much when it comes to taking out the garbage or lifting the heavy stuff. Sigh.

Ah, well, we have been married almost a year now and I still think he is great. And I know I get most annoyed at him when I am so tired I think my face is going to fall off. So you tell me. In the mean time, I will go on proving my competence and suffering suggestion on every day things. Maybe I will even learn a thing or two.