Didn't realize I need a BS in Chemistry to make gluten-free cookies.

Blending is apparently the “thing” in gluten-free baking. There exists an array of gluten-free flours that are best when blended together. Not all flours work well with one another, while others are the perfect complement to one another. There is arrowroot flour, almond flour, quinoa flour, sorghum flour, brown rice flour, and a bunch more. Who knew? Sometimes, I wish I did not know.

I thought that I would be all set with my 5lb impulse buy of almond flour. After purchasing this baby, I had visions of myself baking pizza dough, making bread, and perfecting my chocolate chip cookies for my son’s preschool class. Two weeks later, the bag remains unopened in my pantry.  

It is not that I don’t want to bake. It is that every time I get ready to try a gluten-free baked good recipe, I learn of one more obscure gluten-free ingredient that the recipes requires in order to be edible, like xanthum gum. 

What the hell is xanthum gum? It sounds intimidatingly scientific. I feel uncomfortable even using the word. I don’t know enough about chemistry to use xanthum gum in a sentence. Well, I am starting to. One needs xantham gum or a tapioca paste in order to help bind ingredients in order to optimize GF baking.

And, the almond flour? Well, apparently one is advised to blend almond flour with coconut flour. Why? I don’t really know. It just appears to be what people do and what people recommend.There are a myriad of ingredients – of which I am completely unfamiliar – required to bake something gluten-free from scratch, and it is a little much - for me any way. 

I love to cook, but cooking is forgiving. It is less of a science and more of an art. This how I approach cooking anyway. I can mix and match. I can improvise. I can make a meal out of 5 ingredients.  This does not appear to be an option for gluten-free baking.  Not to mention, gluten-free grocery items are also super expensive. 

I still have not baked anything from scratch because I still don’t have the basic "toolkit" of GF ingredients, which includes sorghum flour, coconut flour, and xanthum gum and some sort of yeast I have never heard of. It is actually sort of frustrating. 

I have used a variety of mixes to make GF brownies, muffins, and such. The results have been mixed. The baked goods came out “OK”, not great, but not terrible. The only thing that actually came out really well was the mixed berry muffins I made using the King Arthur Muffin Mix.

I would really like to bake something - from scratch - tonight. It is a “school night” though, so I am not sure I will have a whole lot of extra time or patience; and I certainly don’t have time to hit Whole Foods for the third time in three days.  

I’ll see what I can whip up. I was never really good at science, but I can attempt to create something out of nothing, which will be a success in and of itself.

Cheers.

What am I going to do with all of this almond flour?

In acknowledgement of Celiac Awareness Month and in support of my three-year old son who was recently diagnosed, I decided to take a pledge of going gluten-free for the month.  
  

I have been impressed by the wide-array of support which has contributed to making this journey fairly easy. Gluten-free options avail at groceries stores and at restaurants. For the most part, servers have been knowledgeable and helpful – no one has made me feel like a high-maintenance, trend-following customer when I ask about gluten-free options.

I recently bought a 5lbs bag of almond flour and I have no idea what do with it.  I keep spending money on gluten-free groceries because I don’t know what else to do. Somehow, I think that buying all of this shit is going to help heal him, help soothe him, to help soothe me, and provide me penance for not catching “it” sooner.

The specialists explained that we needed to re-introduce gluten into my son’s diet before the endoscopy and biopsies.  My husband and I have had a hard time doing this, especially since we have seen a noticeable and positive difference in our son’s health since he has gone gluten-free.   

We decided that once the appointment was a week away, we would re-introduce the gluten and give him on gluten filled item each day.  The surgery was today.  According to the doctor who performed the procedures, the cillia growth was not conclusive. She decided to conduct seven biopsies to help enhance the diagnosis. I am now fearful that we did not give him enough gluten and we will have to go through this again. The saga continues and we will know more in about a week. In the meantime, we are back to leading as close to a gluten-free lifestyle as possible.

I have been 100% gluten-free since May 1, that is, until this past weekend. I gave myself an “out” for three reasons – 1) it was my birthday/mother’s day 2) I ran my first 5K 3) my son has been eating some gluten this week in advance of his procedure.

 My first non-gluten free items were not mind blowing in any way. It was an entirely impulsive choice to even go off the diet. It was Mother’s Day (Sunday) and I was running my first road race. I have never done anything like this before and did not realize how much of a big to-do it would be. Since the race was for charity, there were tons of donations made by local restaurants. I ate about 1/8 of scone before the race and a half of hot dog after the race.  I split the hot dog with my son. To him it was just another hot dog, yet to me it was an example of me giving in, giving up, and sacrificing my integrity.  For what? Free food? Instead of feeling satiated by the gluten bites, I felt shame and guilt. 

I don’t have celiac disease. My gluten-free crusade is optional.  It is for a month. I did not even last two full weeks before having a lapse. Celiacs don’t have a choice. My son does not have a choice.

Trending: with Celiac, gluten, and a toddler

It has been two and a half years since I wrote a blog entry. It feels like both a very long and short time. Today is May 1. The date is significant because it marks the beginning of Celiac Awareness Month.  You will not see the word “Celiac” previously in this blog because it was not even a blip on my radar before two weeks ago.

Besides watching Elizabeth Hasseleback, controversial and former co-host of The View, confidently refuse certain baked goods on air, I never knew of anyone who had this condition. What I know is that gluten has become a buzz word during the last year. I have a few friends and family members who have chosen to go gluten-free for “health reasons” or as a new dieting regime.  Admittedly, I didn't take this seemingly odd preference all that seriously except to revel in how annoying it was to eat with them. Sorry guys.

It was two weeks ago when my youngest son, who just turned three, was diagnosed with Celiac Disease. He has been sick for a while.  My family and I did not know what was causing his incessant diarrhea and related symptoms. I was at my wits-end trying to find out what going on. Why did he have a bowel movement after eating and drinking anything – sometimes up to 10 times a day? Why was he always getting stomach bugs? What was going on with my sweet little boy?

After surmising that food allergies may be to blame, I took him to an allergist. Tests did confirm a couple of allergies, including one to apples. The allergist also tested him for milk and wheat allergies, which came back normal. I took him off apples and apple products (which are in everything by the way) but to my chagrin, there was no improvement.

Still not knowing what to do but knowing that I needed to do something, I decided to eliminate ­­dairy because some internet “experts” opined that dairy is linked to ear infections. My son has had many ear infections, requiring tubes along with the gastrointestinal issues. I figured ... maybe.  Again, not much seemed to change.

Our once voracious eater was no longer interested in eating anything. He would play at the dinner table with his beloved Thomas the Train engines rather than eat. It was his older, skinny brother whose dining habits worried us, not Mr. Boy. Mr. Boy was a tank.  His dad referred to him as Bam Bam. But Bam Bam was starting to lose weight.  He was often tired and his constant movements resulted in brutal diaper rashes that would cause him to scream out in pain while being changed.

Nothing helped. We were at a loss. Me. His dad. His Nana. His daycare provider.

When he turned three earlier this month, I took him for his annual exam and brought up the issue once again. Our pediatrician said that he had Toddler’s Diarrhea, which may have been causing the issues. She asked about his diet and I began to list his favorite foods: waffles, pancakes, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and it dawned on me – gluten. Damn-it. Gluten, that trendy little bugger. It was one of those come to whomever moments. How could I have not thought of this earlier!?  I should have known.

Immediately, I stopped the medical student who was training with our pediatrician and excitedly shared my revelation. I asked her to tell the doctor the connection I made. The doctor came back into the exam room and said that she had the very same suspicion, but thought it was unlikely. She would run some tests.  A few days later, the blood tests were in … Celiac Disease.

While in a daze, I wrote down what the doctor was telling me on the phone - "Celiac", "gluten", "small intestine", "endoscopy" ... "Children's Hospital" - while The Boy ate something that may or may not have had gluten in it in the kitchen with the rest of the family.

She explained that she was going to schedule an appointment with the Chief of Celiac at Children’s Hospital and less than a week later (this past Tuesday), we had our appointment.The specialist confirmed that Celiac is to blame for many of my son’s health issues and in order to confirm the diagnosis, he would need to do a biopsy.

This surgery will happen in the next week or two and then we will forge full-speed ahead into a gluten-free lifestyle – for The Boy and likely for the rest of the family as well.

We have already started him on a GF diet, although we were advised to keep some gluten in his diet, so that the endoscopy can do what it needs to do and confirm the disease. It is so counter-intuitive to knowingly give a child, your baby; your baby who has been suffering for so long, something that we know is hurting him. But … doctor’s orders.

As soon as I learned of my son's Celiac, I did what people do in 2014, I started researching the topic online. I came across a tweet from the National Association for Celiac Awareness and that in acknowledgement of Celiac Awareness Month, they were looking for folks who want to blog about their experience, so here I am, two and a half years later.  Ready to embark on yet another journey.

Ante Up

I am not putting any money on the line, but I am putting my reputation on the line. Like so many people during this time of year, I am going to challenge myself to be more healthy. Stress reduction is one crucial way I can accomplish this, but, hey, that ain't going to happen - right now anyway. Instead I am going to try to kick-start good eating and exercise habits which will inevitably eliminate stress and this always a good thing.

When do I start? Today? Not necessarily. Tomorrow? Probably not. So, when? January 2 is when I will "officially" start my self-created detox program. The reason I chose January 2 to begin fully embracing "the new way" is that I want to give myself a break until after the holidays are officially over and the celebration continues until after New Year's Day - January 2.

In the meantime, I will embrace elements of the program, but allow myself wiggle room for indulgence. As long as I don't over do it, it is important to eat, drink, and be merry during this time of year when so many of friends and family members are around to join in the conviviality of the season. Laughter and merriment is crucial to good health or at least to my good health.

Another reason I am delaying jumping into the program is that my family and I are just getting over the stomach flu. You do what you gotta do to survive the bug and its aftermath even if it includes eating white toast with butter. Being gentle with ourselves, being gentle with myself is a part of my program or any program worth considering.

The saying "be gentle with yourself" is one that I constantly remind myself, friends and family members. It is so important to remind ourselves that most everything we stress and agonize about now will not register a blip on the map of our lives. The reason I am not *that* nervous about embarking on 'the program' is because I will falter and I will get up. This a part of the process. The key is to get up whether it is that very minute, an hour later, the next day, or a month later. Getting up is success.

Thankfully I have not had to diet much in my lifetime due to good genes more than anything else. After I had my second child and while I was still on maternity leave, I decided to try Weight Watchers and begin Pilates to lose baby weight. It was amazing and I lost all of my baby weight, plus some. A couple of months later, I decided to embark on losing 5 lbs which would bring me to just about where I was before I had kids. Weight Watchers and Pilates worked again. Like others, after accomplishing my goal, I stopped the program. Some of the weight, about 5 - 9 lbs of it came back, and this is where I am now. I want to lose about just under 10 lbs and as importantly I want to approach the loss in a healthy and strategic way. (More about what this means to me later.)

So, why not go back to Weight Watchers and Pilates when it worked so well before? I loved Weight Watchers and would highly recommend it to anyone. I loved Pilates as well and can honestly say it is the only exercise program I have ever actually enjoyed. I would go back to either program in a minute, which brings me to the reason I am not going back on Weight Watches or joining a Pilates studio: money. Each of these programs cost money, money that I do not have right now. So, I am going to try to use resources that are free or are of minimal cost. If my self-directed program does not work, then, I know I can always go back to what has worked in the past.

Stay tuned.

Pine Street

Fleeting it may be
the moment is now
to notice
to embrace
to listen
to believe
to stop
to play

In that space between that which defines the dailiness of our days, I am want to remind myself that this is *it*.

This is the "ever after", the "someday", the "if only".

Time to plant flowers and leave dishes.
Bake bread and ignore laundry.
Build tents out of blankets and make a sleep-over with my family.

The dream exists. It is here between me and you and them and us.

Write now.
Paint now.
Absorb now.

That which we pine for is here.
It will never be perfect.
Weeds will always need tending.
Paint will need to be peeled.
Baby clothes need to be rotated.
Dinner to be made.
Laundry to be folded.

The key, it seems, is to carve out space within our reality and challenge ourselves to enjoy it ...

the bubbling water, the stained, yet, clean t-shirts, the rocks and sand that artfully litter the backyard, and the strewn about DVDs with mismatched cases.

This is what I will yearn for now. 10 years from now, 10 days from now, 10 minutes from now. I yearn now.

My kid is creepy

Houses creak. House's crack. House's hopefully don't crack open.

One son is asleep (he is easy) and the other is awake (he used to be easy). I know the boy is awake, but I am not sure if he is in his bed or if he is roaming around upstairs. I went downstairs to write a blog entry, only to realize that the laptop was upstairs and I would need to pass his room in order to get it. I knew that it was going be risky, but I am a grown-up. I am the parent. Besides, I do not want to watch re-runs tonight and I am too lazy to walk 500 ft. to get the cell phone out of my car. So, I decide it worth the risk.

If the boy sees the computer he will come out of bed and inquiring "COMPUTER!?" wanting to play on it. Confidently, yet quietly, I walk pass his open door, pick up the computer, place it under my arm - like a book - and walk downstairs. Success.

I boot up the goods and begin to write. I hear him at the top of the stairs. I can feel his presence. I can almost hear his thumb in his mouth and his blanket in his arms. I called to the top of the stairs "Bedtime ... time to go back to bed!". I did not hear the pattering of footsteps or a frantic "Noooo!" coming from the stairwell, so I knew I needed to get up and help him to bed.

After a short pep talk about all the fun things ahead of us tomorrow (the splash pad and lunch with friends), I explained that he would need to stay in bed or I would take away his blanket. I said good-night and went back downstairs attempting to continue where I left off.

I heard a noise at the top of the stairs again. I was startled because sometimes when I am writing or watching television downstairs with my back to the door, I do not hear the boy come into the room (he *is* only 30 lbs and less than 3 ft tall, so it can happen) and when I do see him, in the corner of my eye, standing behind me smiling silently with his blanket in hand, I yelp. So, I yelled upstairs, "OK, I need to take away your blanket! Go back to bed!". I did not hear any footsteps, so I yelled up, again, and no word. That was it, I was going to go upstairs and put him back to bed again and possibly take away his blanket! I got up off the couch and looked at the top of the stairs. No one was there. I called his name. No answer. He was never there. Creepy.

I went back to work and got a couple of paragraphs in when I heard it again. I yelled "What are you doing up? Go back to bed!". I did not hear anything. Quickly and without grace, I hurriedly tried to put the laptop down on the couch and run upstairs while yelling both boys names and pleading "That's it; I am taking your blanket away!". I am very much hoping that I see the boy at the top of the stairs and not a ghost or something.

I see the boy at the top of the darkened stairs with his blanket in his arms and his thumb in his mouth. I call his name. He says nothing. I call again. He says nothing. He walks slowly down the stairs toward me. Not answering me. When he reaches me, I bend down to look at him (maybe he is sleep walking? maybe he is possessed?). My heart is racing. I look into his eyes and he smiles. He is fine. Asshole.

I put him back to bed again. I go downstairs again. I try to write again. I hear the noise again. I feel the presence again. I look upstairs and see no one. Curious, I tiptoe upstairs and peak behind the bars of the railing and hoping to see the boy walking around upstairs. Instead I see the boy fighting sleep. Freaky.

To Potty or Not To Potty

My eldest son is battling and battling hard. His opponent? The Potty. After months of encouraging the boy to pee in the potty with no luck, he finally got there. He was a peeing champ, getting up and going to the bathroom all on his own, like a big boy. Mom and Dad were so proud. We thought that the day would never come. However,the toilet training process was not over.

While the boy mastered peeing in the potty, moving onto the next stage: going No. 2 in the potty was a whole different story. He would not go there. Period. We tried it all - we sat with him, rubbed his back, read to him, bought Gummy Bears as a reward, offered to buy him any toy or game he wanted; nothing worked.
After consultation with the Pediatrician, we provided him the "OK" to continue to go No. 2 in his Pull Ups, but there were restrictions. We were not going to let him rule the roost ... completely.

His part of the deal dictated the he go upstairs to the bathroom, put his Pull Up on, turn the fan on, and come get us when he was finished. The Doctor said that he would find these steps to be too laborious a process and decide to do it our way - the easy way. He liked the set-up and would not budge.

My husband and I decided this was the end of the game, something needed to happen. He would soon be four, starting preschool, and we needed to help him get over the hump. We stopped buying Pull Ups. He stopped going No. 2. He is a Leo. It was three days and nights of him jumping around like a chimpanzee, trying to repress his bodily functions. We consulted our Doctor again and she said that we can't go back; we must follow through. No more Pull Ups. Finally, he went. We were all so proud. We bought him presents and treats and were thrilled. He did it! We all did it! Sigh.

The joy did not last for long when he resorted his old tricks of holding *it* in. Then, it happened: the stomach bug. Three days and nights, 3-5 pairs of underwear a day. In his pants. Still, he would not go near The Potty. Five days later, the stomach bug has seemed to its course and we are grateful. However, he still going in his pants. This is not to say that there has been no successes.

He has gone in the potty 3 -4 times in the last two weeks. The rest of the time, we have not been so fortunate. He will get there. I know it. I am patient. I try to be patient. My husband is not patient. I don't know how the boy feels. He says he is scared. He does not tell me exactly what about going No. 2 in the potty scares him, but, clearly something does. I know that he will move forward and get to where needs to be. He is still three years old and has a lifetime of pooping in the potty (or so we hope).