Shannon Phillips

“Those who constituted the upper economic classes of the south believed themselves to be living a version of the British outpost life, an emotional affiliation that was to draw them reciprocal British sympathy during the Civil War. If a handful had actually experienced upper-class British life (and were in America on government assignment, in hopes of making a fortune to take back–or because they were no longer welcome at home), the difference was soon lost between them and those who had not but who were quick studies, both financially and socially.

“More subtly, so much so that they failed to notice it themselves, southerners were learning to practice African manners. It is not from the British that what came to be known as southern graciousness was developed, with its open, easygoing style, its familial use of honorifics, and its ‘y’all come see us’ hospitality. The higher the southern family’s pretensions, the more likely the children were to be receiving daily etiquette instruction from someone whose strict sense of the fitting came from her own cultural background–the house slave who occupied the position known as Mammy. Charles Dickens was among those who noticed that southern ladies spoke like their black nurses.

“Some house slaves had been of high social class in Africa, as the slave trade had recognized no distinctions, and the fact that virtually all other people had come to America out of dissatisfaction with their lot at home obviously did not apply to those who were brought by force. The aristocracies of other countries were therefore more likely to be represented among them than among the general population, and the background of a slave might be seriously above that of his or her owner.

“British visitors were quick to pick up on this, although without making the connection between the aristocratic manner they were astonished to observe in house slaves and the likely explanation of its being these people’s heritage. Instead, the kindly inclined, such as Fanny Kemble, attributed the courtliness she observed in Africans to ‘a natural turn for good manners.'”

–Judith Martin (Miss Manners), Star-Spangled Manners

I never heard anything like this thesis advanced before, but as a Southerner, I’m in love with it.

The other day Robin brought home a kitten.

He was walking back to the house with Sam when he heard it crying: he called to it and it came running up to him, he petted it, and it followed him home. It was a little Siamese boy-kitten, thin and flea-ridden but so friendly and sweet. Robin said his name was Endor.

We all fell in love with Endor immediately. We took him in, fed him, cuddled him—he wanted nothing more than to curl up with a person and snuggle and purr.

Only one member of our family did not love Endor, and that was Thora. We kept a baby gate up between the two of them, but she barked and growled from her side of it. On the “shall we adopt a stray kitten” question, her vote was an emphatic NO.

Meanwhile I posted to the neighborhood mailing list, asking if anyone had lost a kitten. I got an immediate answer from a nice lady who said it wasn’t her kitten, but she’d been looking for a companion for her three-year-old female Siamese, and she would be happy to give him a home…

So we said goodbye to Endor. I loved that sweet beautiful little purring creature, but he will be happier in that home than he would have been in ours. He’s just a baby, and he needs an older kitty around to show him how to be a cat.

Endor’s new human tells me that he has already settled in. She sent a picture of him, all cuddled up to his new mama:

And that is the story of the day Robin brought home a kitten.

I’m really touched by the outpouring of sympathy I got after my last post. Many of you seem to have experience with depression and I’m grateful for the expressions of community and solidarity.

I’m doing okay. I mean, our whole family got some kind of virus and neither Sam or I are getting much sleep and I’m kind of staggering around in a woozy haze, but at least my brain has stopped presenting me with thoughts along the lines of “you know what would solve this problem? BEING DEAD” when I’m just trying to clean up the baby and get dinner on the table. There’s a really bent kind of logic that I associate with depression, circular patterns of thought that spiral into insanely dark places with the least provocation, and thankfully that seems to be receding.

I still don’t have much in the way of extra energy, but I wanted to put up a quick post just to say that I am still muddling along and things seem to be getting better.

So the past couple weeks have been kind of a rollercoaster.

I found myself, very suddenly, feeling awful. Of course every parent has moments or days of exhaustion and overwhelm, and at first I thought that’s all I was going through. But I would wake up swamped with a sense of despair, with thoughts like “there is not one single thing about this day that I am going to enjoy” pushing into my mind. The kids were sources only of frustration and stress, and I was unable to access any of the joy and humor that their company usually brings me. I felt like I was constantly running on empty, like I couldn’t recharge my inner battery no matter what I did.

And I was bewildered by my own sudden unhappiness. It came on so quickly, it didn’t seem to have any rational source, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

I started to tell some people, tentatively, that something was weirdly wrong. I posted on Facebook: “This week has left me feeling like a passive observer of my own mental health. And I’m all like, ‘whoa, that went bad quick.'”

I also told some people that I was daydreaming about committing some sort of major crime just so that I could be sent to prison, where there would be plenty of time to read and write and nobody would be depending on me for anything. I could even laugh at myself as I said it, because it’s obviously such a ludicrous fantasy. But at the same time what that daydream really says is “I would like to escape from my life now, please.” And it’s a short step from a fantasy like that to others that aren’t funny at all. I caught myself wishing for a terminal illness—so that I could go to the hospital and be cared for and absolved of all my responsibilities. And I was angry at myself for having such offensive thoughts, but they kept intruding.

It was very scary to me when I found my mind circling around dark topics in this way. I could not understand it. I like my life! Like anybody I get stressed sometimes, I have bad days, but at bedrock I feel incredibly lucky to have a warm, loving family and a sense of deep purpose to my daily work. Why did I suddenly feel swamped by despair? Where had this darkness come from and why was it drowning me? Sam of course tried to be supportive, but he didn’t understand it either.

Eventually it occurred to me that, hey, I did have a baby not so long ago—could this be linked to that “post-partum depression” I’ve heard so much about?

And suddenly the confusion and the bewilderment dissolved. I could stop asking “but what is wrong with me” and start asking a much more helpful question: “so what’s the treatment”? I did the responsible thing and scheduled an appointment with a doctor to talk about the pit that seemed to have abruptly opened up beneath me.

And as it turns out, the doctor was kind of hilariously uninterested in the question of whether or not I should be diagnosed with post-partum depression. He was all like: “Well, you’re obviously depressed. Post-partum or not, know what? Doesn’t matter. Treatment’s the same either way. And frankly, lady, after hearing about how you’re the primary caregiver for three kids including an infant with no extended family in the area or other support and how you haven’t had a solid night’s sleep in seven months, I think it’s a wonder you didn’t crack sooner. Have some Prozac and call me in two weeks.”

So I am writing about this the same way I would write about a sprained ankle or a bout of the flu. Because I think it’s important to destigmatize mental health issues, and because I was truly surprised by how quickly this settled on me. I have every expectation that a short course of anti-depressants will solve the problem. I even feel a little bit proud of myself for being adult enough to seek treatment right away instead of grimly slogging on. My family deserves better than that, and so do I.

My sister is expecting a baby near the beginning of February: my first debut as an auntie! I’m so excited!

She’s in Portland and feeling a lot of pressure from the anti-vaccine crowd. In her words: “They make me feel like an awful person [for choosing vaccination], they tell me my child will hate me forever.” She knows I am a strong proponent of vaccinating for most preventable childhood diseases, so she asked me to put together some links and information for her.

Let’s start with the claim, often heard on Internet messageboards or sometimes from celebrities, that vaccines cause autism. They don’t. This claim began with a fraud, a paper published in The Lancet (a famous and well-respected medical journal) that was later withdrawn after it was found that the author had manipulated data and had multiple undisclosed conflicts of interest. That paper was a hoax and the author was later stripped of his medical license. But it set off a panic.

Since that time there have been a lot of studies—involving millions of children in several countries—and it turns out that there’s simply no difference in autism rates among those who are vaccinated and those who are not. The American Academy of Pediatrics, the CDC, the World Health Organization, and the Institute of Medicine all agree that there is no link between vaccines and autism. The scientific consensus on this question is so strong that it is, frankly, no longer a question. It’s a settled fact. Vaccines do not cause autism.

Vaccines do sometimes have side effects, though. Sometimes they have serious side effects. It’s rare, but some vaccines can trigger seizures or cause very high fevers. So in considering whether or not to vaccinate, we have to do a risk trade-off analysis. Which is riskier, the vaccine or the disease?

Several years ago, many parents were able to look at diseases like measles and whooping cough and say, wow, these diseases are really rare. I’m not sure that I want to give my child this vaccine when they probably won’t even be exposed to the disease in the first place.

That reasoning is not irrational, but it depends on assumptions that are no longer true. Measles and whooping cough are both surging back. Other diseases, like polio, are worth vaccinating for even though the disease remains very rare in the U.S., because the polio vaccine has no serious side effects and in an age of global travel, a resurgence of polio is only one plane ride away.

I think the rational thing to do is to research each vaccine and consider the risk/benefit tradeoff separately. This is a fantastic website that goes through each vaccine and explains the risks associated with the vaccine versus the risks associated with the disease. In most cases the best choice is to vaccinate. For instance, on the pertussis vaccine:

Do the benefits of the pertussis vaccine outweigh its risks?

This question is best answered by taking a look at the side effects of the old pertussis vaccine. The old pertussis vaccine had a high rate of severe side effects such as persistent inconsolable crying, fever higher than 105 degrees, and seizures with fever. Due to negative publicity surrounding this vaccine, the use of the pertussis vaccine decreased in many areas of the world. For example, in Japan, children stopped receiving the pertussis vaccine by 1975. In the three years before the vaccine was discontinued, there were 400 cases of pertussis and 10 deaths from pertussis. In the three years after the pertussis vaccine was discontinued, there were 13,000 cases of pertussis and 113 deaths from pertussis! It should be noted that although the side effects of the old pertussis vaccine were high, no child ever died from pertussis vaccine.

The Japanese Ministry of Health, realizing how costly its error had been, soon reinstituted the use of pertussis vaccine. The children of Japan proved that the benefits of the old pertussis vaccine clearly outweighed the risks. The new “acellular” pertussis vaccine has a much lower risk of severe side effects than the old “whole cell” vaccine.

Pertussis is very common in the United States. More than more than 41,000 cases of pertussis and 18 deaths were reported to the CDC during 2012. However because of underdiagnosis and misdiagnosis, this number is likely to be a vast underestimate of the number of cases that actually occurred. It is estimated that most years between 600,000 to 900,000 cases occur in adolescents and adults. Sadly, most of the deaths from pertussis occur in young infants who struggle to breathe against a narrowed windpipe, leading them to turn blue or suffer spells of apnea. Because the pertussis vaccine does not cause death, the benefits of the pertussis vaccine clearly outweigh its risks.

A few things you can do if you remain concerned about risks associated with vaccines: make sure your pediatrician uses thimerosal-free vaccines. Ask the pediatrician about a delayed/alternate schedule for vaccination—I would not, however, delay DTaP given the resurgence of whooping cough. Personally, after doing our research, we stuck with the recommended vaccination schedule. But a delayed schedule is definitely better than not vaccinating at all.

I think the vaccine question is for the far left what the climate change question is for the far right. In both cases there is a very strong scientific consensus, and in both cases there are groups of people who passionately dispute that consensus. I am pro-science in both cases.

Having said that, I want to make it clear that I think there are valid grounds to critique the pharmaceutical industry, the lack of regulatory oversight around vaccines, et cetera. I think coming at these questions from a skeptical point of view, and doing your own research, is not a bad thing at all.

But I do think vaccine refusal is a bad thing.

On most parenting issues I am very “live and let live,” but fighting preventable diseases is an issue that affects society as a whole. In every population there are some—babies, the elderly, the immunocompromized—who are most likely to suffer or die from these illnesses, and sometimes these are people who can’t get vaccinated or for whom the vaccine is less effective. These most vulnerable people have to rely on what’s called herd immunity, and herd immunity only works when a high percentage of the population is vaccinated. So those who choose not to vaccinate are putting not just themselves or their kids at risk, but my baby and a lot of other people as well. I can’t view this issue through the rubric of individual choice. There really is an element here that’s about our responsibility not just to our own kids but to the communities we are part of, and especially to the most vulnerable among us.

And I also think it’s important to remember that these illnesses can be terrible. There was a video going around a while back of a baby racked by whooping cough. I knew I couldn’t watch it, and I don’t recommend you watch it either, but keep in mind that the severe coughing fits caused by pertussis can literally break a child’s ribs. Chicken pox can cause permanent brain damage. Measles can cause blindness. If you’re dwelling on the risks associated with vaccines, force yourself to dwell a little bit on the risks associated with the actual disease as well. Because none of these illnesses are trifling.

Vaccination is a hot-button topic, so I will be moderating comments closely. Respectful disagreement and friendly debate is always welcome, but I won’t hesitate to delete comments that veer toward personal attack.

The parents at Robin’s school have organized to contribute morning snacks to the classroom, and my first day to contribute was today. Now, here’s the restrictions I’m working within:

• UMCS is a nut-free school
• One child in Robin’s class is allergic to cantaloupe
• Another child has a gluten intolerance and a dairy intolerance

Robert Frost once remarked that writing poetry in free verse is like playing tennis without a net. And honestly, I’ve come to feel similarly about cooking and dietary restrictions. I like them. They give me a structure to work within. So when I hear “nut-free, gluten-free, dairy-free,” I think: Oh, this’ll be fun.

On further investigation the dairy intolerance turned out to be a casein allergy. This is significant because it means that clarified butter (ghee) is okay. I decided to exploit that loophole and cooked up a batch of corn-apricot mini muffins for the Hummingbird classroom. They came out very well, so I thought I’d share the recipe! It’s adapted from Cook’s Illustrated—the original recipe called for all-purpose flour along with a stick of butter, 1/2 cup milk and 3/4 cup sour cream instead of the ghee and coconut oil. So you can backwards-engineer to the original if you like.

Corn and Apricot Muffins with Orange Essence

Take a cup and a half of dried apricots and either chop them or run them through a food processor until you get chunks the size of raisins. Put them in a saucepan with 2/3 of a cup of orange juice and turn on the heat until the juice comes to a simmer. Turn off the heat, cover the saucepan, and put it aside while you proceed with the recipe. The apricots will absorb the juice and plump up nicely.

Adjust your oven rack to a middle position and heat oven to 400 degrees. Grease your muffin tins with coconut oil or nonstick cooking spray.

Combine two cups of gluten-free flour (I like King Arthur brand), one cup of fine-ground, whole-grain yellow cornmeal, one and a half teaspoons of baking powder, a teaspoon of baking soda, and half a teaspoon of salt in a large bowl. Whisk it all together. Do note: cornmeal is naturally gluten-free but if you are baking for someone with a gluten intolerance you still want to look for a brand that is labeled gluten-free, because otherwise cornmeal is often ground in facilities that handle wheat and there’s risk of cross-contamination. You’ll also have to look closely at the label to determine whether your cornmeal is whole-grain or degerminated; whole-grain is better for you and will give the muffins a richer corn flavor. Arrowhead Mills makes a good fine-ground, gluten-free cornmeal that’s also organic. In general I like Bob’s Red Mill a lot too but the store only had their cornmeal in a medium grind. (First world problems: the baker’s edition!)

In a second bowl, lightly beat two eggs and then whisk in half a cup of granulated sugar (I’ve started using raw sugar for most purposes on the grounds that less-processed substances are almost always better for you) and a quarter cup of packed dark brown sugar. Slowly (a little bit at a time, stirring after each addition) stir in a half cup of ghee and 3/4 cup of coconut oil. (If you store your ghee in the fridge you will need to melt it first.) Lastly stir in about a teaspoon of grated orange zest, and the apricots, along with any juice that didn’t get absorbed, from the saucepan.

Now fold the wet ingredients into the dry, stirring gently until the batter is just combined but not over-mixed. Use a large spoon to drop the batter into your muffin tins and bake until they are light golden brown and a toothpick inserted into the middle of the muffin comes out clean. If you’re doing mini muffins start checking after ten minutes; regular-sized will take a bit longer.

This recipe made a platter of 24 mini muffins with enough batter left over for the eight full-sized muffins pictured above. Those are shown with a sugar topping (granulated sugar mixed with grated orange zest), which is delicious, but I left it off the mini muffins in order to make them more healthful for the kids.

So, if you didn’t know, there’s this kind of spontaneous performance art that sometimes happens when people get together on Amazon and start leaving spurious product reviews. Sometimes it’s because the product itself is transparently ridiculous (BIC “For Her” ballpoint pens, Hutzler 571 Banana Slicer). Sometimes the product is just a convenient window for commentary on some sort of larger current-event issue: after the debate in which Mitt Romney famously claimed that he had “binders full of women,” commenters started leaving bogus reviews on office supply products, complaining about the lack of women included with the binders.

And sometimes the reviews are just a kind of offbeat collaborative fiction project. I actually bought Robin one of the “Black Dragon T-Shirts” based at least in part on the stellar reviews:

From reviewer O. de Frias:

“This is, without a doubt, the best black shirt with an angry monochrome dragon perched on two natural pillars on a cliff that I have ever seen. I know that when I get married, this is the undershirt I’ll wear. The amount of awesome displayed on your chest canvas while wearing this shirt, obviously a shirt given to man by Zeus himself, is currently impossible to calculate using our current mathematical constructs. We actually need to devise a new form of mathematics which we should call Wurm Theory in order to parse the data.

I’m going to explain to you what it’s like wearing this shirt. Each separate occasion merits a new stage of awesomeness being unlocked.

First wearing – You hear Sean Connery’s voice command you to be the greatest. Whether you want to or not, while this shirt is on your back you will comply.

Second wearing – The best theme song of all time is instantly created for you and sung by the dragon on your shirt which, contrary to what you would assume, has an awe-inspiring singing voice.

Third wearing – You ascend to a higher level of consciousness.

Fourth wearing – The “what came first, the chicken or the egg” riddle is conclusively solved.

Fifth wearing – Zeus reveals his master plan and the meaning of life.

Sixth wearing – You get like, $0.20 off all your Starbucks purchases, and some places even let you take the cup you used the day before and knock an additional $0.05 if you use that.

PROS: Dragon on your shirt, Sean Connery finally gets some steady work again
CONS: Some of the independently-owned Starbucks don’t let you do the used cup thing.”

Amazon not only tolerates these sorts of shenanigans, they’ve actually given their blessing by compiling a list of some of the most popular “funny reviews.” People! Sometimes they’re just the greatest.

It occurs to me that while I’m getting caught up in my book reviews, I haven’t given any plugs for the other types of media I’m into. So let me briefly say what I’ve been digging lately in TV, comics, and video games.

TV: The shows that I like enough to stay up past the kids’ bedtime for are all on hiatus right now: Downton Abbey, Doctor Who, Orphan Black. I also liked Vikings and The Walking Dead, or as I like to call it, “The Michonne and Darryl Show.”

Comics: Believe it or not, Hawkeye is really excellent right now. I’m also reading Batgirl, The Movement, and Red Sonja, because those are all Gail Simone titles currently. I follow B.P.R.D. in the trades. I’ve heard Saga is great and I keep meaning to check it out.

Games: I enjoyed the heck out of Shadowrun Returns. Also, A Dark Room.

I’m also still checking in every day with Animal Crossing: New Leaf, but I have a habit of leaving my gal on a tropical island, getting distracted, and picking the game up again five hours later. As a result, she’s tanned to the darkest possible skin color, which reads less as “tan” and more as “south Asian or maybe mixed race.” It’s adorable, don’t get me wrong, and I’ve had a great time getting her a purple-haired pixie cut and picking out cute little outfits that look great on her.

The thing that bothers me is, it’ll go away. When winter comes, her skin will pale-ify again, and there’s no option for creating a nonwhite character in this game. I think that’s wrong. Animal Crossing is a kind of non-game, a game where there are no specific goals, except to exist in the most adorable manner possible. You are a cute little person in a cute little town and you do cute things in the company of cute animals and it’s all exceptionally soothing and nice. I find it very relaxing.

But I’m sad that my swashbuckling little brown girl isn’t going to stay brown. I’m sad that the whole game is based on a default pale skin color and doesn’t allow for a more inclusive spectrum. There’s something very…not cute about that.

We stupidly didn’t bring either of our cameras to Robin’s birthday party yesterday, but it went off well—we took a bunch of his friends to a mini-golf place in Alameda (hilariously called Subpar Golf) and they all ran around and got hyper on arcade games and cake and had a fine time. Robin’s Nonna and Pappy were there to celebrate with us, and we got to see both Pops and Mo and Nanita and Markie a few weeks ago, so both the boys have been showered with grandparental love recently.

I can’t believe that Robin starts kindergarten in just a couple of weeks. Today we will sit down and write thank-you notes—he can work on signing his name, which will be good practice for school!

I’ve been maintaining this blog for a long time now, and one thing I’ve noticed is that I go in and out of periods where I feel like updating a lot. And right now it’s all I can do to tackle each day as it comes. We’ve had lots of visitors since I last updated, and I even flew across the country with Sol to be part of my best friend’s wedding. But the thought of writing about any of it seems exhausting; I just don’t have it in me. I wake up each morning and think: what’s got to get done, and what could be pushed to tomorrow?

Another thing I know from my years in blogging is that I have approximately two weeks of Internet silence before people (well, grandparents) start checking in with me. So let me just say: we’re fine, we’re all fine—we’ve enjoyed hosting all our visitors, and we’re looking forward to those who can join us for Robin’s birthday party on the 12th—but I’m exhausted and keeping up my blog has slipped way down on the list of priorities.