My food paranoia wake-up call: The EWG wants us to be afraid of the food we feed our kids -- here's why I refuse

When my doctor told me I’d be delivering my baby at 32 weeks, I looked at her like she was crazy. Nothing was ready. Not the crib, not his room, and certainly not me. At the same time, I was also a little relieved. My pregnancy had been miserable, and I couldn’t wait for it to be over. My son …