Gluten Free Partaaaay

I took my oldest daughter to a party this Sunday for kids who have Celiac Disease. We haven't been to many events, but I think she's old enough to enjoy herself and I wanted her to meet other kids who have Celiac as well.

I think, because it's such a part of how we live our lives, that I forget. I forget the fear and the panic when she was first sick, and we had no idea what it was. I forget about the week at Children's and her rapid weight loss and her bony body in the tub. I want to forget hearing the word 'mass' from the emergency room physician, forever. But on Sunday I remembered, because there were new parents there. You could tell they were new because of the panic in their eyes. Shoving by to get samples or to check a box or a new bread loaf. A nervous energy rippled throughout the event. They checked boxes feverishly, even though everything there was completely gluten free. They double checked with vendors. 'Are you sure?' They packed their totes with boxes upon boxes of gluten free stuff as if they'd never see it again. Their fear was fresh for them, like it was for us 3 years ago.

And I felt it too, with my daughter. She kept asking, "Mommy, can I have that?"

And I said, "Yes!".

But she kept asking. Because she knows she has to. Because we've trained her to.

And finally, I said something I've NEVER said to her before. "Samantha. You can have anything you want." And I filled up then, because it felt so wonderful to say it to her. And to know that she could, and she wouldn't get sick. No emergency room visits. No IV's and nurses holding her down to draw vial after vial of blood. No sore belly the next day from all night of wretching.

Nope, none of that would happen today. Just crumbs and buttercream frosting and sprinkles. Just a warm hand in mine, pulling me to another table of goodies. Just a smile that came from her toes. Just a really, really, really happy four year old girl.

Please see some of these links for fantastic gluten (and many other allergen) free foods:

http://www.allcaneat.com/

http://www.unlawfullygood.com/

http://www.aandjbakery.net/ This features egg and tree-nut free foods as well. Delicious!

http://www.katzglutenfree.com/

http://www.udisglutenfree.com/

http://www.glutenusminimus.com/

And, on Facebook, many of these companies have pages to 'Like'.

Please also check out the Children's Hospital Celiac Support Group on Facebook for great companies, recipes, and promotions.

Thankful.

For the early mornings and the tiptoe behind me when I rise to make my first cup.

For the beard my husband is keeping trimmed because he knows I like it. Grrrr. And because he's just wonderful and fantastic. And cute. And has a great bum.

For the pool at the Y and the people in it who make me smile every week.

For my strong body.

For my parents. For my parents. For my parents.

For friends who love me and my loud-ish ways. Maybe because of my loud-ish ways!

For the paycheck that lets me be in my head and reminds me of all the work I did to get here.

For school and the learning. I do love me some learning.

For old and new friendships. Like a bucket o' treasure I found in my backyard.

And for my own mat. Just big enough for me and my three.

Geneen Roth, "Women, Food and God"

"Diets are the outpicturing of your belief that you have to atone for being yourself to be worthy of existing. They are not the source of this belief, they are only one expression of it. Until the belief is understood and questioned, no amount of weight loss will touch the part of you that is convinced it is damaged. A lifetime of suffering with food will fit right in with the definition you've formed about being alive. It will make sense to you that hatred leads to love and that torture leads to peace because you will be operating on the conviction that you must starve or deprive or punish the badness out of you. You won't keep extra weight off because being at your natural weight does not match your convictions about the way life unfolds. But once the belief and the subsequent decisions are questioned, diets and being uncomfortable in your body lose their seductive allure. Only kindness makes sense. Anything else is excruciating."

Yeah. What He Said.

"People are itchy and lost and bored and quick to jump at any fix. Why is there such a vast self-help industry in this country? Why do all these selves need help? They have been deprived of something by our psychological culture. They have been deprived of the sense that there is something else in life, some purpose that has come with them into the world."

James Hillman, "From Little Acorns: A Radical New Psychology"

Get in the Friggin' Moment Already!

This is how I generally feel about the concept of meditation or the Zen-like experience I keep thinking I have to have to really appreciate my life. I'm just not a Zen-er. I like me some compost, and I love growing my own food. I'm all about organic milk, and I think waiting in line makes me a better person. I'm all about the big picture. But I usually just want to get on with it already.

So, although I thought I got the whole 'being in the moment' stuff, I couldn't ever really practice it when it was important. I'm cool when my luggage gets lost. I'm alright when my dinner is wrong at the restaurant. None of this stuff unnerves me. But the idea of just sitting and being....of being fully present and feeling what I'm supposed to feel without rushing to get on to the next thing? No dice.

Perhaps this is why I fought doing yoga for so long. Stretch? For an hour? And focus on my breathing? And my chi? All set with that. But everytime I do yoga...I love it. And wonder why I don't do it more. So if it makes any sense (it makes perfect sense to me), I'm going to be. No more constant self-help efforts. I'm done with dieting. Forever. Why do I have to keep on trying to make myself 'better' when I am just be fine with who I am and how I think and the way I feel? It's working for me. I have a wonderful life, blessings abound. Why do I have to constantly feel like I'm a boring chapter in a self-improvement book that will just sit, dusty, on the shelves until the next yard sale?

So, in the moment I am. And feeling it. The good, bad and ugly. Sometimes it's uncomfortable but most of the time....it's glorious. To feel the grass on my feet, and the rocks. To smell the breath of my babies, to feel my husband's hand on my back. To sit in a restaurant and hear the din of the diners and feel my hand on the glass. To talk about difficult things. To sit and stew and feel...whatever it is I'm feeling. But I'm here. I'm feeling. And I think you're on my chi.

In a haze of long summerish days and sweaty faces and papers to write, I've abandoned my lonely blog. If it had feelings, it would have it's arms crossed with me. 'Sure Jen, just use me when you're home with two small kids and no one to talk to. Just type on me whenever YOU need to. No, no! Don't worry about me. I know you have your playdates now and your work and your classes, but it's fine. I'm good. I'll just sit out here in the blogosphere and friggin' twiddle my thumbs while you think of something else to write about. Jackass'. Or something like that.

I wanted to write about guilt. But I can't, really, because I feel too damn guilty. I have two beautiful girls playing with the Noni, legs that are seriously too hairy for public viewing, and a video camera that needs charging for a gymnastics show later. So for my 4 readers, I will bid you adieu and be back on the scene like a sex machine sooner than later. Probably later.

A Walk

I've moved 17 times.

That's a lot. Yes, some of it includes college moves and crazy early 20's apartment living, but it still counts. Packing, unpacking, tossing and keeping. I always wanted to feel, in my digs, a sense of belonging and normalcy. That usually included a few key components. A dry cleaner: I need a familiar face when I drop off my blouses and ask them to pay some special attention to that spot on the right boob which there always seem to be many of. I was called 'Nips' in high school because in a completely unfair turn of events, an afternoon salad with Italian dressing made me look like a wet nurse. Fast forward 15 years later when I do indeed soak through my maternity shirts with the good stuff (I did consider ringing it out once, that stuff is liquid gold!).

Anyway, I liked having a mom and pop dry cleaner on the ready. And a library card. This was important. I love to read. Every night, I read. Even for it's 4 minutes. But I could get lost in libraries, often a spot to escape to when I was living with roommates (did I mention that I'm an only child and I. Like. My. Space.) and wanted to peruse the new Alice Hoffman or the latest Rolling Stone rag in a quiet little spot tucked between the mysteries and the large print sections. I could get lost for hours in a library. And I know that makes me a nerd, but it's cool. I've come to grips with my nerdiness. Nerdiness has served me well.

And what I always needed, no matter how brief my stay...was a place to walk. Of course I would have a variety of routes, depending on the time I had or the type of walk I needed. Is it a business walk meant for a workout only? The track will do. Is it a long walk kind of a day, with drop-ins to a downtown store (or perhaps to pick up my dry cleaning or hit the library?), I have a route for that too. Or maybe it's like the one I took Sunday. Long and lovely and sweeter than I imagined with a gentle wind at my back. I knew where the loud dogs would be, they didn't startle me when they jumped up against the gate. I knew where the guy from Ireland would be, waving to me and talking about the weather and how is daughter is in Quincy. I knew that I would see that lady I see all the time and we'd wave, and that we could repeat that for 20 years and still not know each other's names. And I remembered where that funny bump in the road was, and I hopped right over it. And I knew, as I came back around the way and my house came into view, that I really was home.