Tonight for dinner, I rotisseried (is that even a word?) a chicken in my rotisserie oven from Heather and Matt, and made a delicious asparagus-spinach risotto. It was divine, but I dirtied half the dishes in my kitchen and all of the available countertops, so I am putting off cleaning my kitchen, hence the new blog post.
We had all of my in-laws in town for Easter, which included T's parents, his only sister, her husband and their three boys. We had a great, mostly stress free weekend, and just truly enjoyed each others' company.
I was coming down off the high of a couple of successful GF baking attempts, and with a traditional ham dinner for Easter Sunday on the docket, I decided to make GF "dinner rolls."
Quotation marks are because they looked like biscuits and tasted like something I would feed the dogs. Oh, wow, they were horrible.
They didn't taste like anything I had ever had before. I can't even truly describe how bad they were, my sister in law said they tasted like a tennis shoe.
My brother in law walked into the kitchen to snag one as they were cooling and was trying really hard not to show his disgust, the nice man that he is. But even though we warned him, T put on his game face and ate one on Sunday because he is my wonderful husband. 95% of the meals I put in front of him are delicious, so he remained loyal even during this experimental GF stage.
I didn't take any of this personally because even though I was honestly slaving in the kitchen over them, I thought they were pretty bad, too.
I also made GF "cinnamon rolls," which I am putting in quotation marks because they had more of a cinnamon roll inspired brioche-thing going on. Jill and I made these on Saturday night for Easter morning, because cinnamon rolls used to be our Sunday morning staple prior to Kate's CD diagnosis. Kate, one nephew and the adults all liked it, Brookie and the two older boys did not. 2 out of 3 ain't bad! I will probably try a different recipe next time though, because for the amount of work I put in, they weren't amazing.
The oatmeal cookies were a hit and amazingly there were a few left on Sunday, so T got to have one after his Lenten fast from sweets was broken. Such dedication to his personal sacrifice! I tempted him a lot with desserts over the last 40 plus days, just call me Eve.
I also made Brazilian Cheese Rolls, or pao de queijo, which are traditionally made with tapioca flour and are gluten free. The texture reminds me of the sausage balls you make with Bisquick, cheese and Jimmy Dean sausage, crunchy on the outside, and soft and springy on the inside. The recipe is one that you can play around with, using different herbs and cheeses and they are really easy to make. I will definitely be making those again. The first time I made them, I shaped them to be about the size of my palm, this time they were much smaller, about the size of a plum. I think somewhere in between will be perfect.
On Saturday, we took family pictures with Jill and her family, me, T and the girls, and my in-laws. We hired the photographer who took our Christmas pictures, my friend and hairstylist Amy came over and did our hair and makeup, (ooh la la!) and we all did the white shirts and blue jeans thing. I was really worried that it would look boring, but it didn't at all! The girls wore white sundresses and looked adorable, I will share the link to Deanna's blog when she posts them.
That's really all, it was a low drama weekend, which I am very grateful for. So today I am thankful for:
- Living in a country where I am free to worship God and celebrate the resurrection of his Son, Jesus Christ.
- Family and friends
- On the Border corn tortilla chips being sold in a huge bag at Sam's and being gluten free!
Okay, here I go into domestic bliss!
Monday, April 25, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
C is for Cookie, that's good enough for me, Yeah!
This weekend I have all of T's family coming in for Easter, and I am scrambling for bread replacement recipes. I still need to find a recipe for sandwich rolls, but I am a dessert girl, so that's where I started.
Today I attempted to make my great-grandmother's Oatmeal Raisin Cookie recipe gluten free. Guess what? They are great!
I started out making these egg-free this past spring, partly because the little girl down the street was allergic and partly because I was out of eggs that day. They turned out really good, and it made me so happy that Jilly was able to eat them, especially since when she came to our house for Brooke's "Milk and Cookies" birthday party, she wasn't able to eat anything. My sister in law jumped into the pantry and ended up with a Cascadian Farms granola bar. Hostess with the mostest!
So making cookies for kids is kinda my thing. I love having fresh baked cookies for the girls and usually share them with my friends' families so that we don't eat them all, and also because there's just something about made-from-scratch, homemade cookies that is so comforting. My mom made these for us growing up pretty regularly, so maybe that's why they taste so good. Knowing that my sweet Great Grandma Brown made these for her family makes them even better to me.
Great Grandma was my mother's beloved grandmother, and she was, I believe, 4 foot 11, and as kind and loving as can be. She passed away when I was a junior in high school, but I can still hear her Canadian accented voice calling my mother "Pet." According to my mother, she used to hoard toilet paper and never learned how to drive. She loved my mother dearly and went to bat for her as a little girl when she would do something to make my great grandfather angry, like play in the yard and bend the blades of grass. For real. God Bless his soul, some men like things just so, don't they?
I'm sure they are not a secret recipe, she probably got it off the Crisco package since it calls for Crisco oil, but since she is gone, we are going to credit her!
Great Grandma Brown's Oatmeal-Raisin Cookies (Gluten, Dairy and Egg free)
1 c. Gluten Free All purpose flour *
1/4 tsp. xanthan gum
1 tsp. gluten free baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
Dash of cinnamon
3/4 c. brown sugar, packed
2/3 c. Crisco oil (I use store brand Canola oil, I'm a rule breaker!)
1 tsp. pure vanilla (can add another 1/2 tsp. if you are using a beany all purpose flour)
1 Tbsp. flax meal
3 Tbsp. lukewarm water
1 1/4 c. Certified Gluten Free Oats (I used Bob's Red Mill GF Rolled Oats)
1/2 c. raisins
Preheat your oven to 325 degrees. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper. Position racks in the oven so they are evenly spaced.
In a small bowl, place flax meal and lukewarm water, let sit for at least five minutes.
In a medium bowl, combine the first five ingredients and whisk together. Set aside.
In a large mixing bowl, (I use my stand mixer for this) combine brown sugar, oil and vanilla, then add flax meal/water combination, beat well.
Turn speed down, and add dry ingredients 1/2 cup at a time until all of mix is in, then turn the mixer speed up to medium and let it go for about two or three minutes.
Turn the speed down to low and add raisins, then oats. Stir until combined.
Using a small spoon, drop by rounded spoonfuls onto prepared baking sheets about two inches apart.
Bake for about 8-10 minutes, then remove from the oven and cool on the baking sheet. Enjoy warm and think of my Great Gram!
*The flour blend I used contained 1 cup each of white rice, sorghum, tapioca and almond flours, plus 1 cup of cornstarch. Mix all the flours together with a whisk and use 1:1 in place of all purpose wheat flour. I got the recipe from The Gluten-Free Bible, published by Publications International, Ltd. I like it because it doesn't use bean flour, which is more nutritious but tastes funky to me in cookies.
Because of the almond flour, this recipe is not nut free, but to do that, you could change the almond flour to coconut flour in the same proportion, or switch the flour blend to one that does not include almonds. Then this recipe would be pretty much allergen free!
Today I attempted to make my great-grandmother's Oatmeal Raisin Cookie recipe gluten free. Guess what? They are great!
I started out making these egg-free this past spring, partly because the little girl down the street was allergic and partly because I was out of eggs that day. They turned out really good, and it made me so happy that Jilly was able to eat them, especially since when she came to our house for Brooke's "Milk and Cookies" birthday party, she wasn't able to eat anything. My sister in law jumped into the pantry and ended up with a Cascadian Farms granola bar. Hostess with the mostest!
So making cookies for kids is kinda my thing. I love having fresh baked cookies for the girls and usually share them with my friends' families so that we don't eat them all, and also because there's just something about made-from-scratch, homemade cookies that is so comforting. My mom made these for us growing up pretty regularly, so maybe that's why they taste so good. Knowing that my sweet Great Grandma Brown made these for her family makes them even better to me.
Great Grandma was my mother's beloved grandmother, and she was, I believe, 4 foot 11, and as kind and loving as can be. She passed away when I was a junior in high school, but I can still hear her Canadian accented voice calling my mother "Pet." According to my mother, she used to hoard toilet paper and never learned how to drive. She loved my mother dearly and went to bat for her as a little girl when she would do something to make my great grandfather angry, like play in the yard and bend the blades of grass. For real. God Bless his soul, some men like things just so, don't they?
I'm sure they are not a secret recipe, she probably got it off the Crisco package since it calls for Crisco oil, but since she is gone, we are going to credit her!
Great Grandma Brown's Oatmeal-Raisin Cookies (Gluten, Dairy and Egg free)
1 c. Gluten Free All purpose flour *
1/4 tsp. xanthan gum
1 tsp. gluten free baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
Dash of cinnamon
3/4 c. brown sugar, packed
2/3 c. Crisco oil (I use store brand Canola oil, I'm a rule breaker!)
1 tsp. pure vanilla (can add another 1/2 tsp. if you are using a beany all purpose flour)
1 Tbsp. flax meal
3 Tbsp. lukewarm water
1 1/4 c. Certified Gluten Free Oats (I used Bob's Red Mill GF Rolled Oats)
1/2 c. raisins
Preheat your oven to 325 degrees. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper. Position racks in the oven so they are evenly spaced.
In a small bowl, place flax meal and lukewarm water, let sit for at least five minutes.
In a medium bowl, combine the first five ingredients and whisk together. Set aside.
In a large mixing bowl, (I use my stand mixer for this) combine brown sugar, oil and vanilla, then add flax meal/water combination, beat well.
Turn speed down, and add dry ingredients 1/2 cup at a time until all of mix is in, then turn the mixer speed up to medium and let it go for about two or three minutes.
Turn the speed down to low and add raisins, then oats. Stir until combined.
Using a small spoon, drop by rounded spoonfuls onto prepared baking sheets about two inches apart.
Bake for about 8-10 minutes, then remove from the oven and cool on the baking sheet. Enjoy warm and think of my Great Gram!
*The flour blend I used contained 1 cup each of white rice, sorghum, tapioca and almond flours, plus 1 cup of cornstarch. Mix all the flours together with a whisk and use 1:1 in place of all purpose wheat flour. I got the recipe from The Gluten-Free Bible, published by Publications International, Ltd. I like it because it doesn't use bean flour, which is more nutritious but tastes funky to me in cookies.
Because of the almond flour, this recipe is not nut free, but to do that, you could change the almond flour to coconut flour in the same proportion, or switch the flour blend to one that does not include almonds. Then this recipe would be pretty much allergen free!
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
I think that if motherhood is a test, I'm pulling in a B-. I have so much to learn, but I know enough of the basics to wing it most days. It's kinda like college, I find myself struggling the most when I choose not to plan ahead, and breezing through on the days that I am prepared. You would think that I would learn my lesson and always pick out clothes and pack lunch the night before, but do I? Nope.
However, nothing could have prepared me for what we have been dealing with over the last month or so.
Kate has had an "angry tummy" since she contracted giardia (a nasty parasite common in swimming pools, shopping carts, dirt, etc.) last summer. She was sick enough that she was losing weight, lethargic, and scaring her momma big time. We ended up switching pediatricians over the whole thing, because our former ped would not perform a stool sample, (poop in a bowl) saying that even if it was giardia, it was "self-limiting" and that it would resolve itself. In his opinion, it was a virus. Shocker.
The next day, she had a dentist appointment where they took her vitals and her weight had gotten down to 29 lbs, which meant her total weight loss was around 11% of her body weight, and I started panicking, worst case scenario style.
I called around and got her in with a new pediatrician, Dr. Ramsey, who took us seriously and ordered the stool sample, got her on the hardcore antibiotic...no more giardia, good as new, right?
Except Kate never really got back to normal. Her tummy always hurt, her "throw up" (throat) hurt, she was alternating between diarrhea, constipation, bloated, flat tummy, irritable, happy, fatigued, energetic, hungry and full. We chalked it up to the terrific three's and Dr. Ramsey called it "postviral gastroparesis," or indigestion caused by an infection. She put her on Prevacid for the reflux (she would have random vomiting episodes, as well) and Miralax for the poo issues. She ordered an abdominal x-ray, which showed Kate to be full of you-know-what, and prescribed enemas and suppositories to clean her out. Now it was labeled "chronic constipation."
Well, I was not really happy about my child taking two longterm medications at the age of three and a half, so I tried increasing her fiber, giving her more whole wheat items, oatmeal, prunes, raisins, etc. It didn't seem to matter what I fed her, she never had two days the same. And every night, she told us her tummy hurt.
It got to the point that she had a preference between two types of glycerin suppositories because one was less uncomfortable than the other, and she would ask for Mylanta before bed every night.
I felt like something was wrong, and none of what we were doing was solving the problem or even really treating the symptoms.
Meanwhile, my own stomach was giving me grief. I have had heartburn off and on since I was pregnant with Brooke, and it started acting up more frequently during all of this. My doctor had me start taking Prilosec, then increased to a double dose when the single dose stopped helping. I had an upper GI performed, which was absolutely horrible. But a story for another day!
Anyway, everything appeared normal, and at my follow up appointment, she changed my PPI to a prescription and asked me if I or anyone in my family had ever been tested for Celiac disease. My answer was no, I have only known one person ever with it, he lived across from me in high school and I think I may have spoken three words to him in my life.
So she said she wanted to test me the next time I came in for bloodwork in June, and I headed home to, of course, scour the internet for info on Celiac disease.
And it all described my baby girl's ailments.
So the following week, Kate had a follow up, and I asked Dr. Ramsey to do the blood test for Celiac disease. She was not convinced that it wasn't "garden variety chronic constipation," but she tested her, probably just to appease me, since I'm pretty sure that between my two girls, we have paid for her summer vacation this year.
A week later, I called the office, and they told me that Kate's results were in and they were high, so I needed to make an appointment with a pediatric gastroenterologist.
What?!
Me- "What does that mean, the results are high?" Nurse- "Well, it means that you need to see the gastroenterologist."
Thanks for the info. So I called the man, Dr. Villa, and I got an appointment for the next afternoon. I'm thinking this guy must be top notch if I have an appointment in less than 24 hours. That doesn't even happen at the car dealership.
So we went, and I answered all the questions about Kate's diet, her medical history, my medical history, T's medical history, and that of every family member I can think of who has ever had a significant medical problem. Then we saw Dr. Villa.
He was very good with Kate, not too pushy, and felt around on her belly for a minute, which made her laugh because it tickled.
Then he told me that her antibody levels indicated Celiac disease, with her chances of having it being in the 90's. I was floored, I could not believe that my child, who came from my own body, could have this and not even I could tell. I went through all the stages of grief right there in his office in about thirty seconds, to which he responded that this was not a bad disease.
(I KNOW THAT! IT'S NOT CANCER, OR AUTISM OR ANYTHING LIFE THREATENING BUT I AM TERRIFIED AND MY CHILD IS SICK SO GIVE ME A BREAK!) - Internal Rant
Then I took my beautiful girl home, and two days later, Dr. Villa performed an endoscopy on her under general anesthesia and took biopsies from her esophagus, stomach and small intestine. Our friend and priest, Rich, came and sat with us, providing comic relief and prayer, which is a great combination. Meanwhile, T's mother drove in to keep Brooke for us, and we had many prayerful women from the Daughters of the King praying for Kate and her doctors. I can't speak for Tommy, but I felt at peace. I had no anxiety, Kate was charming all the nurses, and when she woke up, she looked around and asked where the doctor was, then wanted to go home and eat. Dr. Villa said her tissues looked normal, but we would have to wait for the biopsy results to be sure.
The following Wednesday, or one week ago today, we went back to Dr. Villa's and were told that the biopsies confirmed that it was Celiac disease, and the only treatment is a 100% gluten free diet. Gluten is everywhere in almost everything. T was in Brazil for the week, my brain felt like it was in the washing machine, and so my reaction was to drive over to Whole Foods and wander around. At 11:30 am. With two hungry, tired and cranky toddlers.
So I spent $80 on 10 items, then came home, made mock flour tortilla quesadillas, put the girls in bed and purged my pantry. I also had some crying spells thrown in here and there, driving, sitting, laughing and then crying. I felt like a crazy person.
I know it's not the end of the world, and I know it's not a death sentence. But in a way it is. Kate will never have a carefree existence. She will always have to prepare and plan ahead, I will always have to prepare and plan ahead, which we have already determined, is NOT my strong suit.
The absolutely fabulous news is, we will be much healthier, savvier consumers, since Kate being gluten free means that the rest of the family will be mostly gluten free as well in order to protect her little intestines from being attacked. Eating gluten free means reading every label on every item you purchase and bring into your home, so you are much more conscious of what you are putting in your body.
It also means very little eating out since the only way to be sure of your food's safety is to prepare it yourself. Which means me. In the kitchen. Three meals a day. Downside, lots of dirty dishes. Upside, new cookbooks and recipes, some of my guilty pleasures!!
I gave myself a full 24 hours to grieve, then got busy figuring things out. I emailed a college friend whose daughter is also Celiac, had a great conversation with her and immediately felt less isolated. I also decided not to Facebook and blog and spill to the world about this until I was ready to deal with questions or well meaning and sometimes irritating comments.
We haven't "told" Kate anything, I've told her that she can only eat what Mommy and Daddy give her, and when she wants something she can't have, we've told her that the food in question will make her tummy hurt. Which is not something she wants! So far, she has done great, she eats whatever we give her for the most part, and has only told us a couple of times that her tummy hurts. Her preschool teachers have been awesome, letting me know what snack is at school so that I can bring Kate a healthy alternative, and following my directions for preparation. The next test will be Easter weekend when we have family coming in and we will be going out to eat!
So here's where I am today.
1. Don't take no for an answer when it comes to your child's health. It is your job and your right as the parent to ask questions and expect great care.
2. If you feel like something is not right, it probably isn't.
3. Circle the wagons. Decide who needs to know and who doesn't and keep it that way until the family is ready to share. My decision was based on T being basically incommunicado and respecting that he needed his vacation more than I needed the heartfelt sympathy of Facebook nation.
4. Planning and preparing are tools for success! I was always able to wing it and succeed until I had two children and a laundry list of responsibilities. That is one positive to come out of all of this, but not the only one.
5. Know that if your child has a disease or disorder, you need to become as much of an expert as you can, because you are their only advocate, and no one else is going to make informed decisions for them but you. The nurses at the doctor's office, the dietitian, even the friends whose children have the same issue, not one of them knows your child like you, and as long as your child is small, it is up to you to direct their care.
6. It's better to know than to wonder.
The next step is having the rest of our family tested. Brooke had her blood drawn last week and we are waiting on the results. T and I have to have our blood drawn, which will include the antibody panel and the genetic screen. Pray that Brooke's levels are low and she will not have to undergo the endoscopy. Pray for patience for me while I navigate through this transition. Pray for the healing of Kate's body and that we can continue to see the upside in all of this.
Stay tuned for fun with GF cooking!
UPDATE* Dr. Ramsey's office just called and Brooke's bloodwork came back normal! Hallelujah!
However, nothing could have prepared me for what we have been dealing with over the last month or so.
Kate has had an "angry tummy" since she contracted giardia (a nasty parasite common in swimming pools, shopping carts, dirt, etc.) last summer. She was sick enough that she was losing weight, lethargic, and scaring her momma big time. We ended up switching pediatricians over the whole thing, because our former ped would not perform a stool sample, (poop in a bowl) saying that even if it was giardia, it was "self-limiting" and that it would resolve itself. In his opinion, it was a virus. Shocker.
The next day, she had a dentist appointment where they took her vitals and her weight had gotten down to 29 lbs, which meant her total weight loss was around 11% of her body weight, and I started panicking, worst case scenario style.
I called around and got her in with a new pediatrician, Dr. Ramsey, who took us seriously and ordered the stool sample, got her on the hardcore antibiotic...no more giardia, good as new, right?
Except Kate never really got back to normal. Her tummy always hurt, her "throw up" (throat) hurt, she was alternating between diarrhea, constipation, bloated, flat tummy, irritable, happy, fatigued, energetic, hungry and full. We chalked it up to the terrific three's and Dr. Ramsey called it "postviral gastroparesis," or indigestion caused by an infection. She put her on Prevacid for the reflux (she would have random vomiting episodes, as well) and Miralax for the poo issues. She ordered an abdominal x-ray, which showed Kate to be full of you-know-what, and prescribed enemas and suppositories to clean her out. Now it was labeled "chronic constipation."
Well, I was not really happy about my child taking two longterm medications at the age of three and a half, so I tried increasing her fiber, giving her more whole wheat items, oatmeal, prunes, raisins, etc. It didn't seem to matter what I fed her, she never had two days the same. And every night, she told us her tummy hurt.
It got to the point that she had a preference between two types of glycerin suppositories because one was less uncomfortable than the other, and she would ask for Mylanta before bed every night.
I felt like something was wrong, and none of what we were doing was solving the problem or even really treating the symptoms.
Meanwhile, my own stomach was giving me grief. I have had heartburn off and on since I was pregnant with Brooke, and it started acting up more frequently during all of this. My doctor had me start taking Prilosec, then increased to a double dose when the single dose stopped helping. I had an upper GI performed, which was absolutely horrible. But a story for another day!
Anyway, everything appeared normal, and at my follow up appointment, she changed my PPI to a prescription and asked me if I or anyone in my family had ever been tested for Celiac disease. My answer was no, I have only known one person ever with it, he lived across from me in high school and I think I may have spoken three words to him in my life.
So she said she wanted to test me the next time I came in for bloodwork in June, and I headed home to, of course, scour the internet for info on Celiac disease.
And it all described my baby girl's ailments.
So the following week, Kate had a follow up, and I asked Dr. Ramsey to do the blood test for Celiac disease. She was not convinced that it wasn't "garden variety chronic constipation," but she tested her, probably just to appease me, since I'm pretty sure that between my two girls, we have paid for her summer vacation this year.
A week later, I called the office, and they told me that Kate's results were in and they were high, so I needed to make an appointment with a pediatric gastroenterologist.
What?!
Me- "What does that mean, the results are high?" Nurse- "Well, it means that you need to see the gastroenterologist."
Thanks for the info. So I called the man, Dr. Villa, and I got an appointment for the next afternoon. I'm thinking this guy must be top notch if I have an appointment in less than 24 hours. That doesn't even happen at the car dealership.
So we went, and I answered all the questions about Kate's diet, her medical history, my medical history, T's medical history, and that of every family member I can think of who has ever had a significant medical problem. Then we saw Dr. Villa.
He was very good with Kate, not too pushy, and felt around on her belly for a minute, which made her laugh because it tickled.
Then he told me that her antibody levels indicated Celiac disease, with her chances of having it being in the 90's. I was floored, I could not believe that my child, who came from my own body, could have this and not even I could tell. I went through all the stages of grief right there in his office in about thirty seconds, to which he responded that this was not a bad disease.
(I KNOW THAT! IT'S NOT CANCER, OR AUTISM OR ANYTHING LIFE THREATENING BUT I AM TERRIFIED AND MY CHILD IS SICK SO GIVE ME A BREAK!) - Internal Rant
Then I took my beautiful girl home, and two days later, Dr. Villa performed an endoscopy on her under general anesthesia and took biopsies from her esophagus, stomach and small intestine. Our friend and priest, Rich, came and sat with us, providing comic relief and prayer, which is a great combination. Meanwhile, T's mother drove in to keep Brooke for us, and we had many prayerful women from the Daughters of the King praying for Kate and her doctors. I can't speak for Tommy, but I felt at peace. I had no anxiety, Kate was charming all the nurses, and when she woke up, she looked around and asked where the doctor was, then wanted to go home and eat. Dr. Villa said her tissues looked normal, but we would have to wait for the biopsy results to be sure.
The following Wednesday, or one week ago today, we went back to Dr. Villa's and were told that the biopsies confirmed that it was Celiac disease, and the only treatment is a 100% gluten free diet. Gluten is everywhere in almost everything. T was in Brazil for the week, my brain felt like it was in the washing machine, and so my reaction was to drive over to Whole Foods and wander around. At 11:30 am. With two hungry, tired and cranky toddlers.
So I spent $80 on 10 items, then came home, made mock flour tortilla quesadillas, put the girls in bed and purged my pantry. I also had some crying spells thrown in here and there, driving, sitting, laughing and then crying. I felt like a crazy person.
I know it's not the end of the world, and I know it's not a death sentence. But in a way it is. Kate will never have a carefree existence. She will always have to prepare and plan ahead, I will always have to prepare and plan ahead, which we have already determined, is NOT my strong suit.
The absolutely fabulous news is, we will be much healthier, savvier consumers, since Kate being gluten free means that the rest of the family will be mostly gluten free as well in order to protect her little intestines from being attacked. Eating gluten free means reading every label on every item you purchase and bring into your home, so you are much more conscious of what you are putting in your body.
It also means very little eating out since the only way to be sure of your food's safety is to prepare it yourself. Which means me. In the kitchen. Three meals a day. Downside, lots of dirty dishes. Upside, new cookbooks and recipes, some of my guilty pleasures!!
I gave myself a full 24 hours to grieve, then got busy figuring things out. I emailed a college friend whose daughter is also Celiac, had a great conversation with her and immediately felt less isolated. I also decided not to Facebook and blog and spill to the world about this until I was ready to deal with questions or well meaning and sometimes irritating comments.
We haven't "told" Kate anything, I've told her that she can only eat what Mommy and Daddy give her, and when she wants something she can't have, we've told her that the food in question will make her tummy hurt. Which is not something she wants! So far, she has done great, she eats whatever we give her for the most part, and has only told us a couple of times that her tummy hurts. Her preschool teachers have been awesome, letting me know what snack is at school so that I can bring Kate a healthy alternative, and following my directions for preparation. The next test will be Easter weekend when we have family coming in and we will be going out to eat!
So here's where I am today.
1. Don't take no for an answer when it comes to your child's health. It is your job and your right as the parent to ask questions and expect great care.
2. If you feel like something is not right, it probably isn't.
3. Circle the wagons. Decide who needs to know and who doesn't and keep it that way until the family is ready to share. My decision was based on T being basically incommunicado and respecting that he needed his vacation more than I needed the heartfelt sympathy of Facebook nation.
4. Planning and preparing are tools for success! I was always able to wing it and succeed until I had two children and a laundry list of responsibilities. That is one positive to come out of all of this, but not the only one.
5. Know that if your child has a disease or disorder, you need to become as much of an expert as you can, because you are their only advocate, and no one else is going to make informed decisions for them but you. The nurses at the doctor's office, the dietitian, even the friends whose children have the same issue, not one of them knows your child like you, and as long as your child is small, it is up to you to direct their care.
6. It's better to know than to wonder.
The next step is having the rest of our family tested. Brooke had her blood drawn last week and we are waiting on the results. T and I have to have our blood drawn, which will include the antibody panel and the genetic screen. Pray that Brooke's levels are low and she will not have to undergo the endoscopy. Pray for patience for me while I navigate through this transition. Pray for the healing of Kate's body and that we can continue to see the upside in all of this.
Stay tuned for fun with GF cooking!
UPDATE* Dr. Ramsey's office just called and Brooke's bloodwork came back normal! Hallelujah!
Monday, February 28, 2011
Confession of a Shoeaholic.
Warning: There is no point to, moral of, lesson to be learned from this post.
I love to shop. It is a hobby of mine. Sometimes the gathering of items for a project is more fulfilling than the actual project itself.
I think it all goes back to kindergarten. We go to Wal-Mart, pick up our class list, and buy brand new, colorful, amazing, wonderful school supplies and they are JUST FOR US. What a high! I have such fond memories of packing my backpack the night before the first day of school, writing my name (or scrawling, I have terrible penmanship) on all of my new treasures. Sometimes my mom would try to get her hands on stuff first and just write our last name so that it could be shared. Oh no, none of this collective ownership for me, I want to write LINDSAY on everything. My Precious!
I have never been too into clothes or trends, though. I think this also goes back to elementary school. We didn't have a lot of money, and we didn't spend that much on clothes at all. My mom rarely bought things for herself, she sewed for us when we were younger, and we typically only got new clothes a couple of times a year, once before school started and once when it started getting hot. So we got basic stuff, tee shirts, shorts, jeans, tennis shoes, stuff that would last for the rest of the season.
I never would have imagined I would turn into a shoe junkie. But I kinda have.
And not even for myself.
I. Collect. Girls'. Shoes. And, to a certain extent, clothing in general.
My girls' closets are amazing. They have so many outfits, it is almost disgusting. I could put something different on them everyday and not do laundry for several weeks. And they have more socks, panties, tights, bows, clips, barrettes, and headbands than I thought possible.
The shoes, however, take the cake.
Mom: "Kate, go put on your shoes."
Kate: "Which ones?"
Mom: "The sandals."
Kate: "Which sandals?"
Mom: "The white sandals!"
Kate: "But they not match!"
She has no less than 10 pairs of shoes. And she wears them all.
She has flip flops and Crocs for swim lessons and gymnastics, tennis shoes for playing and preschool, brown Mary Janes, black Mary Janes, white ballet flats, white sandals, gold sandals, brown sandals and rain boots. And that's not counting the ruby red slippers from Aunt Sarah or the silver gem ballet flats that are on deck for when her feet grow just a little bit. Or the pink slip-on tennies that I'm saving for this summer when it's too hot for socks but she has to wear closed-toe shoes.
I can justify just about anything.
Meanwhile, little Brookie has tiny little feet, and she is in a different season than big sister was. So the shoes that fit her now are winter blacks and browns, which means "they not match!"
So off to the store we go today, for some new sandals for Brookie, and maybe some for Kate.
I found my Mecca, ladies, it is here in Houston and it is called Rattle Tattle. You only thought I'd hit rock bottom. I tell myself that Brooke will wear her big sister's shoes and clothes. (Eye roll) Poor Tommy, he is in so much trouble.
Oh my "goomess," as Kate would say, Rattle Tattle is like crack for Kate. They sell every frilly, frou frou, girly item you can think of, and all of the adorable boy stuff that Moms and Grammies love and that makes the daddies cringe. One part of the store is tutus and dance wear, then they have all the beautiful smocked dresses that I love, a toy corner for the kids to play while you shop, and right in the middle is the SHOE SECTION. Quincy on Little Einsteins would be saying, "I can not believe it!" Both girls walked out of there with two new pairs of sandals for the summer.
And I will be returning soon for their smocked dresses for Easter. Don't kid yourself.
I love to shop. It is a hobby of mine. Sometimes the gathering of items for a project is more fulfilling than the actual project itself.
I think it all goes back to kindergarten. We go to Wal-Mart, pick up our class list, and buy brand new, colorful, amazing, wonderful school supplies and they are JUST FOR US. What a high! I have such fond memories of packing my backpack the night before the first day of school, writing my name (or scrawling, I have terrible penmanship) on all of my new treasures. Sometimes my mom would try to get her hands on stuff first and just write our last name so that it could be shared. Oh no, none of this collective ownership for me, I want to write LINDSAY on everything. My Precious!
I have never been too into clothes or trends, though. I think this also goes back to elementary school. We didn't have a lot of money, and we didn't spend that much on clothes at all. My mom rarely bought things for herself, she sewed for us when we were younger, and we typically only got new clothes a couple of times a year, once before school started and once when it started getting hot. So we got basic stuff, tee shirts, shorts, jeans, tennis shoes, stuff that would last for the rest of the season.
I never would have imagined I would turn into a shoe junkie. But I kinda have.
And not even for myself.
I. Collect. Girls'. Shoes. And, to a certain extent, clothing in general.
My girls' closets are amazing. They have so many outfits, it is almost disgusting. I could put something different on them everyday and not do laundry for several weeks. And they have more socks, panties, tights, bows, clips, barrettes, and headbands than I thought possible.
The shoes, however, take the cake.
Mom: "Kate, go put on your shoes."
Kate: "Which ones?"
Mom: "The sandals."
Kate: "Which sandals?"
Mom: "The white sandals!"
Kate: "But they not match!"
She has no less than 10 pairs of shoes. And she wears them all.
She has flip flops and Crocs for swim lessons and gymnastics, tennis shoes for playing and preschool, brown Mary Janes, black Mary Janes, white ballet flats, white sandals, gold sandals, brown sandals and rain boots. And that's not counting the ruby red slippers from Aunt Sarah or the silver gem ballet flats that are on deck for when her feet grow just a little bit. Or the pink slip-on tennies that I'm saving for this summer when it's too hot for socks but she has to wear closed-toe shoes.
I can justify just about anything.
Meanwhile, little Brookie has tiny little feet, and she is in a different season than big sister was. So the shoes that fit her now are winter blacks and browns, which means "they not match!"
So off to the store we go today, for some new sandals for Brookie, and maybe some for Kate.
I found my Mecca, ladies, it is here in Houston and it is called Rattle Tattle. You only thought I'd hit rock bottom. I tell myself that Brooke will wear her big sister's shoes and clothes. (Eye roll) Poor Tommy, he is in so much trouble.
Oh my "goomess," as Kate would say, Rattle Tattle is like crack for Kate. They sell every frilly, frou frou, girly item you can think of, and all of the adorable boy stuff that Moms and Grammies love and that makes the daddies cringe. One part of the store is tutus and dance wear, then they have all the beautiful smocked dresses that I love, a toy corner for the kids to play while you shop, and right in the middle is the SHOE SECTION. Quincy on Little Einsteins would be saying, "I can not believe it!" Both girls walked out of there with two new pairs of sandals for the summer.
And I will be returning soon for their smocked dresses for Easter. Don't kid yourself.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Abby Normal
Few things can bring me crashing to Earth like a well child check-up.
I usually walk in on top of the world, thinking that I have the most wonderful, advanced, spectacular child in the joint, only to find out 45 minutes later when they finally call our name that I, sadly, do not.
I am then reminded of how little I actually do know about health and development in general when faced with the health and development of the two little people living in my house.
I also think that sometimes, this is all a load of horse manure.
What is child development based on? From what I can gather, it is the average time that an average baby/child meets specific developmental milestones. This is similar, perhaps, to saying that every woman on the planet ovulates on day 14 of her cycle and then exactly 40 weeks later, a baby is born. Which is bunk.
So if we're talking in averages, then about 50% of babies at 18 months have 10 -100 words in their vocabulary, right? Or is that too wide of a range? Maybe the bottom 10% have 10 words, the next 10% have 20 and so on. And if my child has 100 words but is still not feeding himself, does that mean he is advanced verbally and delayed with fine motor skills? What does this all mean?!?!
Before I say anything else, I don't want to sound as if I don't appreciate the heads up. I definitely needed to be told that we weren't devoting time everyday to Brooke's vocabulary and speech, and since that appointment, she has been talking more and gaining words every day. But I am wondering if it is what we are doing that is making a difference, or just the fact that I'm truly listening to her.
The one thing that has struck me the most about the whole speech/language development thing is how many moms have had their children evaluated. Formally or informally, pediatrician or speech pathologist, so many of the moms that I come into contact with daily have sought help for their child's own speech development. Is it just because we are aware of the resources available to us, or is it that most of the kids I know are in some type of preschool situation, I don't know. It's just more widespread than I thought.
Because obviously, I don't know everything. But I still think that Brooke is amazing, wonderful, and spectacular, if not advanced. She is perfectly average, with her little hairy patch on her belly and her 20 words at 18 months.
I usually walk in on top of the world, thinking that I have the most wonderful, advanced, spectacular child in the joint, only to find out 45 minutes later when they finally call our name that I, sadly, do not.
I am then reminded of how little I actually do know about health and development in general when faced with the health and development of the two little people living in my house.
I also think that sometimes, this is all a load of horse manure.
What is child development based on? From what I can gather, it is the average time that an average baby/child meets specific developmental milestones. This is similar, perhaps, to saying that every woman on the planet ovulates on day 14 of her cycle and then exactly 40 weeks later, a baby is born. Which is bunk.
So if we're talking in averages, then about 50% of babies at 18 months have 10 -100 words in their vocabulary, right? Or is that too wide of a range? Maybe the bottom 10% have 10 words, the next 10% have 20 and so on. And if my child has 100 words but is still not feeding himself, does that mean he is advanced verbally and delayed with fine motor skills? What does this all mean?!?!
Before I say anything else, I don't want to sound as if I don't appreciate the heads up. I definitely needed to be told that we weren't devoting time everyday to Brooke's vocabulary and speech, and since that appointment, she has been talking more and gaining words every day. But I am wondering if it is what we are doing that is making a difference, or just the fact that I'm truly listening to her.
The one thing that has struck me the most about the whole speech/language development thing is how many moms have had their children evaluated. Formally or informally, pediatrician or speech pathologist, so many of the moms that I come into contact with daily have sought help for their child's own speech development. Is it just because we are aware of the resources available to us, or is it that most of the kids I know are in some type of preschool situation, I don't know. It's just more widespread than I thought.
Because obviously, I don't know everything. But I still think that Brooke is amazing, wonderful, and spectacular, if not advanced. She is perfectly average, with her little hairy patch on her belly and her 20 words at 18 months.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
The rest of the story: Potty-training
When we left off, I was waxing about the brilliance of my sister-in-law. In Phase Three: Bribery, we discovered that Kate was willing to do anything for a Barbie.
The story from Jill was that with her oldest son, she bought him a toy and put it on the mantel out of reach, yet in sight, and told him that he could have it if he pooped in the toilet. Well, Jill was basically tapped out at this point of potty-training with him and so I am sure that the relief she felt when IT ACTUALLY WORKED was transcendent.
I know it was for me.
I also know that it was short lived when we went right back to not pooping in the toilet the very next day.
So we did it again, like instructions on a shampoo bottle: Bribe, Poop, Repeat.
We wisely added stipulations to the bribe, such as "You must poop in the toilet every day for the next three days to receive this toy." Then we added a day, until Kate hit the week mark, and we knew that we were golden. So we were many dollars poorer and many Barbies richer, but we had a (mostly) potty-trained almost three-year-old.
The moral of the story is that everyone has their own methods of enticing their own stubborn little ones to do what they don't want to do, and there is no one right or wrong way to potty-train. I learned a lot about how my child handles frustration (not well,) and that she really just wants to please us, as most toddlers do.
So, my advice for potty-training is as follows:
The story from Jill was that with her oldest son, she bought him a toy and put it on the mantel out of reach, yet in sight, and told him that he could have it if he pooped in the toilet. Well, Jill was basically tapped out at this point of potty-training with him and so I am sure that the relief she felt when IT ACTUALLY WORKED was transcendent.
I know it was for me.
I also know that it was short lived when we went right back to not pooping in the toilet the very next day.
So we did it again, like instructions on a shampoo bottle: Bribe, Poop, Repeat.
We wisely added stipulations to the bribe, such as "You must poop in the toilet every day for the next three days to receive this toy." Then we added a day, until Kate hit the week mark, and we knew that we were golden. So we were many dollars poorer and many Barbies richer, but we had a (mostly) potty-trained almost three-year-old.
The moral of the story is that everyone has their own methods of enticing their own stubborn little ones to do what they don't want to do, and there is no one right or wrong way to potty-train. I learned a lot about how my child handles frustration (not well,) and that she really just wants to please us, as most toddlers do.
So, my advice for potty-training is as follows:
- Come to the party prepared. Have your kid pick out whatever special character underwear they like, but know that those are like wearing a garbage bag in a hurricane. The ones that you really want are the double seated underwear, I think Gerber makes them, because at least they slow down the big pees. If your kid demands to wear Buzz drawers, just put them over the thick ones.
- I know nothing about potty-training boys. My sister's boys learned to pee sitting down and standing up, my sister-in-law's boys only stand up. Whatever their daddy does, they're going to want to do. Here I must add the story about Kate walking in on Tommy peeing and patting him on the butt and saying, "Good girl, Daddy."
- You have to teach girls to wipe from front to back, otherwise you are in for a world of hurt.
- Those flushable wipes are usually fragranced, so if you have a sensitive bum, steer clear. Kate calls it "ouchie pee pees."
- Take an extra change of clothes, including socks, in a large Ziploc bag everywhere you go. When there is an accident, you use the Ziploc for all the wet stuff.
- Invest in a piddle pad for your car seat, they are usually around $10 or $15 and will save you from having to dismantle the carseat once a day.
- Don't stress if they are still in diapers at night, that is a brain development thing and it takes a while for some kids. Kate is still wearing Pull-Ups to bed. She wakes up dry about twice a week, and almost every day at nap time she is dry. I made the mistake of withholding liquids close to bed time to try to help her stay dry. The only result was a mild UTI and dehydration. Their bodies have to start telling their kidneys to slow down at night before they can stay dry for such long periods of time. It's not a behavior thing, it's a physiology thing. Obviously, giving a kid a huge juice drink at dinner and then putting them straight to bed is a recipe for disaster, but letting them have liquids and teaching them to use the toilet before bed is not a bad idea. When we lived in Hobbs, the air was so dry, Kate was thirsty all the time, so she got used to having a sippy cup of water in her bed every night. We still do this for both girls and there is no difference in their diapers on the nights we forget.
- Speaking of Pull-Ups, they did not work for Kate as a potty-training tool. We use them now for sleeptime so that if she needs to use the bathroom she is not having to take off her diaper and then put it back on with the tabs and whatnot. Not that she ever has actually gotten out of bed, gone to the bathroom, washed up and went back to bed, but just in case she does... I like to set my girls up for success! Pull-Ups are more expensive and less absorbent than regular diapers, and Kate always went ahead and peed or whatever in them because they felt like diapers to her.
- I have no idea how many packages of panties we went through during those two months of hell, but I know that I probably bought panties everytime we went to the store. I hated rinsing out the mess and washing them with all the other clothes, especially since Brookie was a tiny baby. Even though we have a Sanitize setting on our washer, it was still poopy panties in my washer. Ick. So I just treated them like a poopy diaper, and tied them in a trash bag and tossed them. Eco friendly, no. Less nauseating, yes. And it was incentive for Kate not to poop on whatever friend she was wearing that day. "Kate, don't poop on Ariel," or "Don't poop on Minnie Mouse." And if she did, I made her say "bye-bye" to whatever friend as I tied them up in their own little burial sack.
- Finally, make it fun for them! Let them pick out their own soap, stool, towel, or whatever so that they are excited to go in the bathroom.
I pray for you, my friend, that it will not be as difficult for you as it was for us. I pray that your angel baby will never have an accident, those kids really do exist. Who knows, maybe Brookie will be that child. And as a disclaimer, I am not an expert on kids, I'm an expert on MY kids and a shaky one at that. I hope you don't make as many mistakes as I did, and if you do, you learn from them for the next frustrating lesson.
But the most important thing that I took away from all of this was that negative reinforcement doesn't work in this situation. You don't have to bribe or use Barbies or M&Ms or whatever, but being upbeat, praising them for their success and encouraging them when they fail makes them feel empowered, and you don't feel like a monster everyday.
And you know what, if you want to be one of those moms who scrapbooks about your kid sitting on the toilet, you just go right on ahead and do it.
And now I'm off to peruse my new iPhone that Tommy surprised me with for Valentine's Day. YAY! Good night!
Why are we scrapbooking about toilets?
So my good friend Courtney and I were hunting for fireworks stickers on the scrapbooking aisle at Hobby Lobby last week, when I came across multiple embellishment, quote rub-ons and sticker packages for potty-training. I have seen these before, but just dismissed them as something that I would never buy, but for some reason that day it really struck me as odd.
Who wants to make a commemorative page in their child's scrapbook about pee and poop?
I love my children, and I have successfully potty-trained one of them, and I can tell you with absolute certainty that it is not something that I will need to be reminded of for the rest of my life.
It was terrible.
I was crying, screaming, Mommy dearest for at least two months. I cleaned poop or pee off of every surface in my house at least twice. Poor Kate was worse off because on top of trying to figure out how NOT to poop or pee on herself, she had to live with me, the crazy lady.
I call this Phase One: Preparation. I talked to anyone and everyone who had ever potty-trained a child, I read what Dr. Sears and Dr. Spock had to say, and I bought books and cartoons for Kate with various creatures using the toilet. I bought a potty chair, a potty ring, a stool and flushable wipes. I bought Pull-Ups, double seat panties, plastic panties, and Disney Princesses panties. Target loved me.
Several of the mommies from Kate's gymnastics class were potty-training at the same time so that we could move our kids from Mommy and Me to Preschool class. We could all see who had been successful since last week because there was no more bunchy diaper or Pull-Up sticking out under their leotards. And one by one, they all started wearing panties.
EXCEPT KATE.
Even the kids who were younger than her were at least able to wear panties during the day. So I got all their tips and advice and put it to use. I call this Phase Two: Desperation.
Amy said to do the timer trick, set the timer for a certain amount of time and when it rings, take them to the toilet. Leave them there until they go or for five minutes, whichever comes first. If they go, set the timer for forty five minutes and repeat. If they don't set the timer for ten minutes and try again.
Kate would scream and turn red and spit and act like a demon if I made her sit there for five minutes. As soon as that timer went off, we both let out a huge sigh of relief, and off she would go. A few minutes later she would pee or poop on herself.
Laura said to put her on the potty and squat down in front of her and make her squeeze each of my ten fingers as hard as she could, hypothetically this would make her tighten all of her muscles and if there was anything in there, it would come out.
Kate would grab one finger and scream and spit and turn red and throw a fit.
Then there were the moms who said it took them one day and two accidents and their angel babies just got it. There were the daddies who took credit for potty-training their kids (HA!) while mom was seeing red, and the well meaning older generation whose advice was to try again later, maybe she's just not ready.
I was so afraid I had scarred my poor child for life with all of my ranting and begging and isolation in the downstairs half bath. I was worried that she would start kindergarten and still be wearing Pull-Ups. Mostly I was afraid that I was doing something wrong. There is so much guilt and fear associated with motherhood, I hope my daughters never realize how much power they have over me. I would call Tommy and vent my frustration on him, and feel like an absolute failure as a parent for most of the day. Then I would call my sister-in-law.
She is one of my best friends and biggest champions. I love her as a friend and as a sister-in-law. She and I are so different, but as parents we have a lot of similarities. More on her later. What she suggested turned it all around, and I call this next section Phase Three: Bribery or Bargaining with the Devil.
Who wants to make a commemorative page in their child's scrapbook about pee and poop?
I love my children, and I have successfully potty-trained one of them, and I can tell you with absolute certainty that it is not something that I will need to be reminded of for the rest of my life.
It was terrible.
I was crying, screaming, Mommy dearest for at least two months. I cleaned poop or pee off of every surface in my house at least twice. Poor Kate was worse off because on top of trying to figure out how NOT to poop or pee on herself, she had to live with me, the crazy lady.
I call this Phase One: Preparation. I talked to anyone and everyone who had ever potty-trained a child, I read what Dr. Sears and Dr. Spock had to say, and I bought books and cartoons for Kate with various creatures using the toilet. I bought a potty chair, a potty ring, a stool and flushable wipes. I bought Pull-Ups, double seat panties, plastic panties, and Disney Princesses panties. Target loved me.
Several of the mommies from Kate's gymnastics class were potty-training at the same time so that we could move our kids from Mommy and Me to Preschool class. We could all see who had been successful since last week because there was no more bunchy diaper or Pull-Up sticking out under their leotards. And one by one, they all started wearing panties.
EXCEPT KATE.
Even the kids who were younger than her were at least able to wear panties during the day. So I got all their tips and advice and put it to use. I call this Phase Two: Desperation.
Amy said to do the timer trick, set the timer for a certain amount of time and when it rings, take them to the toilet. Leave them there until they go or for five minutes, whichever comes first. If they go, set the timer for forty five minutes and repeat. If they don't set the timer for ten minutes and try again.
Kate would scream and turn red and spit and act like a demon if I made her sit there for five minutes. As soon as that timer went off, we both let out a huge sigh of relief, and off she would go. A few minutes later she would pee or poop on herself.
Laura said to put her on the potty and squat down in front of her and make her squeeze each of my ten fingers as hard as she could, hypothetically this would make her tighten all of her muscles and if there was anything in there, it would come out.
Kate would grab one finger and scream and spit and turn red and throw a fit.
Then there were the moms who said it took them one day and two accidents and their angel babies just got it. There were the daddies who took credit for potty-training their kids (HA!) while mom was seeing red, and the well meaning older generation whose advice was to try again later, maybe she's just not ready.
I was so afraid I had scarred my poor child for life with all of my ranting and begging and isolation in the downstairs half bath. I was worried that she would start kindergarten and still be wearing Pull-Ups. Mostly I was afraid that I was doing something wrong. There is so much guilt and fear associated with motherhood, I hope my daughters never realize how much power they have over me. I would call Tommy and vent my frustration on him, and feel like an absolute failure as a parent for most of the day. Then I would call my sister-in-law.
She is one of my best friends and biggest champions. I love her as a friend and as a sister-in-law. She and I are so different, but as parents we have a lot of similarities. More on her later. What she suggested turned it all around, and I call this next section Phase Three: Bribery or Bargaining with the Devil.
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