We'd like to thank the fabulous folks at Eco-Me for including us in their 52 weekly tips email blast.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Beansoup Survives Bankruptcy Tuesday!
I'll admit, when I first heard about the new CPSIA law that went into effect last year, I panicked. How was a small company like mine going to possibly afford to get lead testing on it's products? What exactly did all of this mean? It was confusing and scary.
I am a mother of 2 wonderful kids and I have made it my life's work to make sure that they are safe and healthy. I buy organic foods, I use as many chemical free cleaners as I can and I watch like a hawk what they put in their mouths. But who am I kidding? As parents, we know that when we turn our backs, they ingest every ounce of junk food available, chew on batteries and light bulbs and maybe even lick the paint in their paint sets. The point is, we can't monitor them constantly so we have to know that what we are buying for them won't harm them. So I sat down and asked myself a few questions.
Would I want to buy my children a product that has dangerous levels of lead in it?
No.
Do I want manufacturers to be responsible for insuring that their products don't have excessive lead counts.
Yes.
To me it wasn't a question of could I afford to test my products, it was how quickly could I get them tested? How soon would it be before I could go to bed at night knowing that the product that I provide for children is safe? For me, it was a done deal and even though the CPSC generously granted a stay on certificates, I felt that it was absolutely my job to be prepared for the February 10 deadline.
The moral is, Beansoup will survive Bankruptcy Tuesday. We have been tested and according to our CPSC approved testing facility, our products are safe. Our certificates are ready, should anyone ask and we are prepared, confident and more than a little relieved.
So the next time my son chews on his favorite apron, I'll let it go and know that he will be just fine. I'm making it my life's work to protect my children as their parent and as a business owner it is my duty and my pleasure to protect yours...
I am a mother of 2 wonderful kids and I have made it my life's work to make sure that they are safe and healthy. I buy organic foods, I use as many chemical free cleaners as I can and I watch like a hawk what they put in their mouths. But who am I kidding? As parents, we know that when we turn our backs, they ingest every ounce of junk food available, chew on batteries and light bulbs and maybe even lick the paint in their paint sets. The point is, we can't monitor them constantly so we have to know that what we are buying for them won't harm them. So I sat down and asked myself a few questions.
Would I want to buy my children a product that has dangerous levels of lead in it?
No.
Do I want manufacturers to be responsible for insuring that their products don't have excessive lead counts.
Yes.
To me it wasn't a question of could I afford to test my products, it was how quickly could I get them tested? How soon would it be before I could go to bed at night knowing that the product that I provide for children is safe? For me, it was a done deal and even though the CPSC generously granted a stay on certificates, I felt that it was absolutely my job to be prepared for the February 10 deadline.
The moral is, Beansoup will survive Bankruptcy Tuesday. We have been tested and according to our CPSC approved testing facility, our products are safe. Our certificates are ready, should anyone ask and we are prepared, confident and more than a little relieved.
So the next time my son chews on his favorite apron, I'll let it go and know that he will be just fine. I'm making it my life's work to protect my children as their parent and as a business owner it is my duty and my pleasure to protect yours...
No matter what the cost.
Monday, February 2, 2009
The Zest Loves Beansoup
The following was generously posted by our friends at The Zest.
But the color selection has become quite the process, one that involves Quinn climbing up to stand on the counter, opening the upper cabinet where the food coloring is kept, and removing all four boxes of food coloring — even though each box contains the same four colors. (Let’s not even try to determine why I have four boxes of food coloring. Just another one of life’s little mysteries.)
“Just pick a box!” I want to scream. But I don’t scream. Never, ever, ever.
Better yet, just name your color, I want to tell her (not in an exasperated voice. No, never). But she has to do it herself. Has to pick. Has to drop, drip-drip-drops of food coloring into her creamy daily dairy.
So, enthusiastic as she is to have her way with food things, I’ve decided to just enable her. Like every good mommy does. By praising her good intentions with buying her stuff.
Because both of my girls are so gung-ho right now in the kitchen, I couldn’t resist picking up a couple of Beansoup’s Chefs Aprons. They’re reasonably priced and come in sizes — a concept I can appreciate. I’m a sucker for a darling print, anyway — put one on an apron and I’m a goner. Beansoup’s durable fabrics are both charmingly mod and irresistibly retro.
Which is kind of how I feel when I cook. Apron strings tied on my terms. And it’s never too early to let my girls in on that, is it?
Those strings
I wonder if I’ve created a monster. Not only does Quinn (six years old, and counting) feel free to comment on my couscous plan (”Mom, we need to add lemon zest”), just because she’s wielding a wooden spoon, she’s become rather attached to a certain breakfast preparatory ritual.
I wonder if I’ve created a monster. Not only does Quinn (six years old, and counting) feel free to comment on my couscous plan (”Mom, we need to add lemon zest”), just because she’s wielding a wooden spoon, she’s become rather attached to a certain breakfast preparatory ritual.
Every morning, she must carefully and thoughtfully select a color for her yogurt. Some moms let their salmon-resistant tots slather their filets with ketchup; I allow my girls to custom color their plain yogurt. It’s a benign concession, I think, this way of bargaining with them to give up on coercion in the dairy aisle, to just say no to added sugar with their active, live cultures.
But the color selection has become quite the process, one that involves Quinn climbing up to stand on the counter, opening the upper cabinet where the food coloring is kept, and removing all four boxes of food coloring — even though each box contains the same four colors. (Let’s not even try to determine why I have four boxes of food coloring. Just another one of life’s little mysteries.)
“Just pick a box!” I want to scream. But I don’t scream. Never, ever, ever.
Better yet, just name your color, I want to tell her (not in an exasperated voice. No, never). But she has to do it herself. Has to pick. Has to drop, drip-drip-drops of food coloring into her creamy daily dairy.
So, enthusiastic as she is to have her way with food things, I’ve decided to just enable her. Like every good mommy does. By praising her good intentions with buying her stuff.
Because both of my girls are so gung-ho right now in the kitchen, I couldn’t resist picking up a couple of Beansoup’s Chefs Aprons. They’re reasonably priced and come in sizes — a concept I can appreciate. I’m a sucker for a darling print, anyway — put one on an apron and I’m a goner. Beansoup’s durable fabrics are both charmingly mod and irresistibly retro.
Which is kind of how I feel when I cook. Apron strings tied on my terms. And it’s never too early to let my girls in on that, is it?
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