Yesterday, the Captain brought home a book from school that his class had written. Each kid wrote one page about their favourite part of their own body.

It was one of those things that makes your heart well up with pride, because they have obviously worked so hard on the project and thought about it a lot. And the innocence and purity of their words is so sweet and cute.

And also: FREAKING HILARIOUS.

I kept bursting out with laughter while reading it, which granted was not my finest Mommy moment. That sort of thing leads to all kinds of awkward questions from the kids, like “What’s so funny, Mommy?” and “Why are you laughing, Mommy?” and “Do you need a tissue, because you are snorting a lot?”

AWKWARD.

But seriously, I defy you to keep a straight face when reading these:

[My brain] will achieve everything needed even the things that I absolutely hate like listening to my dad’s commands to do more homework.

My supreme, epic, wicked neck never fails me.

This handsome thinker [ed note: his head] sits on my peaceful neck.

I use my arms to eat at home at 5:30.

When I wear blue my eyes pop like fireworks. Sometimes they don’t pop because it’s a different shade of blue.

My legs are epic and make me run fast.

Staying up you might think is not significant, but I need my feet to stay up or I’ll be tired.

It [his carotid artery – this kid is some kind of genius] is special to me because without it my head might blow up and then my massive brain would not be attached to my body and I’d be dead!

My smile is so bright that sometimes other people can see their self-reflection off my teeth.

My bones are epic. Epic like a cheetah.

That last one is my ultimate, all-time favourite. “Epic like a cheetah” is definitely, definitely my new catch-phrase. Also the name of my next blog, my future rock band, and my first novel. It’s EPIC, like a CHEETAH, man.

Today I was very nearly wiped out by a cube van. I was driving along a street, belting out I Saw Her Again (Last Night) by the Mamas and the Papas (Mama Turtlehead loves her soft rock station, DEAR LORD WHAT HAVE I BECOME). The cube van was coming out of a mini-mall driveway too quickly, and slid out into the road with just an inch or two of clearance to the back of my minivan as I zoomed past. I wasn’t even aware of what was happening until it was over.

I was on my way home from getting groceries and my first thought, having just escaped death, was that if I did happen to be flatted by a truck that Sir Monkeypants would be stuck with three kids and NO GLUTEN FREE SUPPLIES. Eating gluten-free is preventing me from even having normal thoughts about dying in a fiery car crash. Who cares about leaving my babies motherless and sad. They will have to EAT GLUTEN. The horror!

Some have asked me if I feel any different, now that I’m eating about 80% gluten-free myself. I’ve heard the stories online about people who have found bottomless pits of energy, have had their skin clear up, have effortlessly lost 30 pounds, all just by cutting out the gluten.

Sadly, I seem to be serving as a counter example as I still fall asleep on the couch at 8:30 p.m., have regular breakouts, and have actually gained weight since Christmas. It probably doesn’t help that I am making up for the lack of gluten with a constant stream of Peppermint Patties, Hershey Kisses, and candy canes. I can’t have my gluten! I need comfort foods! Pass me that bag of chips.

But even so, I would be willing to stick to the gluten-free lifestyle forever if I thought it would really help the Captain. The jury’s still out on that. It’s only been a month, but so far we haven’t seen any miracle changes – he is still having some on and off breathing trouble, and he’s still having mystery allergic reactions. He seems a bit less sniffly, which may be worth it just for our own sanity. But yeah, one month in and we’re still waiting-and-seeing.

And also trying not to be hit by cube vans. Think of the teff flour, BY GOD.

I took the kids sledding this week, and the whole time I was there I was wondering how, exactly, any teenaged boys make it to adulthood. I saw boys in untied running shoes (this is on an icy, snowy hill in -5 degrees Celcius weather). I saw boys with no hats and open coats. I saw boys climbing fences into restricted areas and then shoving each other at the edge of the mountain.

I saw boys standing on sleds attempting to “surf” down the hill. SERIOUSLY, boys. How is it that there are any grown men in the world?

Last night I was at a fast food restaurant getting take-out (soon to come: a list of take-out foods that the Captain can eat, trust me, it will be a short post). There was a teenaged girl in front of me in line who was pretty and had amazing teeth and long blonde hair. The two boys behind the counter were IDIOTS, absolute idiots in her presence. They clearly knew each other from school and one boy, when the girl called him by name, blushed until I thought his head would explode and stood there grinning dumbly, completely unable to answer her question or engage in any kind of conversation. The other one, in an attempt to win attention, made a series of “girls are weak and dumb” style jokes and then finished up his stand-up routine with a lame, “Um, I guess that wasn’t very funny, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” And the girl quietly and very nicely said, “That’s okay,” but you could tell she was thinking OH NO YOU DIDN’T, JERK.

I have to say, this week my fears of future teen pregnancy has been greatly reduced. It just doesn’t seem likely that between the snow surfing and the ridiculous teenaged social interactions that any of today’s teenaged boys will be fathering children any time soon. In fact, the entire future of the human race may be in jeopardy.

Oh man, I am NOT looking forward to the teen years.

My kids (and who am I kidding, me too) are big fans of this YTV show called In Real Life. It’s a sort of game show for kids aged 12 to 14 from across Canada. The kids are put into teams of two, and then each week the teams face the challenge of taking on a different real life job. For example, this fall they took turns at being beekeepers, army recruits, baseball stadium workers, and stunt pilots. It’s cool, yo.

They just finished their third season and like the two previous seasons, we’ve kept all the episodes on the PVR for repeated watching. I think we weatched the first season, in its entirety (of about 12 episodes) at least 10 times over. I felt like those kids were my kids. Each of my own children adopted a favourite and hopefully the Captain won’t kill me some day when he reads this blog and finds out I told the world he cried when his favourite guy was eliminted. It’s no shame to care, dude!

Last summer we went to an Ottawa Fury Woman’s Soccer Game at Algonquin College. We’d never been there before and we took a wrong turn into the parking lot, ending up in a different lot. In that other lot, there were a bunch of half-built sheds set up and some TV cameras and a bunch of teams wearing different colours standing around. We could tell they were making some sort of TV show but at the time we thought it was possibly Canada’s Worst Handyman, and moved on.

Turns out they were filming episode three of season three of In Real Life – and we were RIGHT THERE. I’m still kicking myself at the lost chance to hop out and meet the host, Sabrina Jalees. My kids (and who am I kidding, me too) would have just melted with admiration. Then I would have totally dominated the conversation while my children clammed up in terror just like they do in the face of Santa.

(Side note: My kids are SO in awe of Santa that they never find the strength to say anything to him when we visit each year. This isn’t a problem at all for me because we don’t do The Photo With Santa thing, we just drop by to say hi, so they can be as shy as they like. Plus, I get to suggest a present for each in lieu of them being able to ask for themselves:

Santa: What would you like for Christmas, little boy?
Captain: ….
Me: Wouldn’t an Alien Conquest Lego set in the $35 dollar range be perfect?
Captain: [nods dumbly with wide saucer eyes]
Santa: Very good then.
Me: [cackles inside and congratulates self on already purchasing said Lego set]

And scene.)

So since I went and blew my chance to meet Sabrina and possibly get in the background of an In Real Life episode (likely squealing with delight and waving around an autograph book, I am SHAMELESS), let me just say this: Sabrina! Love the show! Huge fan! Keep it coming! Call me!

We had the sick Christmas this year. It seems to go every other year – one year healthy and fun fun fun, the next year, sick and pitiful. Every sick and pitiful year I swear I will get everyone flu shots next fall, and then I never do it. Serves me right, says the universe!

This year everything seemed like it was going to be fine on Christmas Eve, and then the Little Miss woke up with a terrible fever and serious ennui on Christmas morning. Meanwhile, both of the older two developed totally awesome chesty coughs. We foolishly decided to go ahead with our plan to head down to Southern Ontario to visit the fams on Boxing Day, only to turn tail and run back home on the 28th when it became clear that all of us were going to go down with the flu one at a time like dominoes.

It sure was a fun car ride home!

Since we made it here we’ve had one day of lie around on the couch groaning and watching movies; today we have graduated to reading and playing card games. Later I might attempt a little cereal and some Wii. It’s life in the fast lane around here, let me tell you.

It hasn’t exactly been a big party around here, but we’re together, it’s quiet, and no one has killed anyone yet, although we really should try to get out of the house sooner rather than later. I had to put the garbage out this morning and discovered the driveway is knee deep with snow and it’s actually winter out there. Who knew?

You know, now that I think about it, if I had to plan out a perfect Christmas it might be just like this – quiet time hanging out at home, no cooking required, no cleaning expected. Just chill time as a family. Now that most of our fevers are coming down, I think I’ll take the time to appreciate this quiet little Christmas for what it is. A gift.

I sometimes am worried about Gal Smiley being a tomboy, just because anything that makes your kid a bit different opens them up to feeling a bit different and who knows if a kid is going to dig their uniqueness or mope around feeling like an outsider. But on the plus side, there’s this:

Little Miss holds an Ariel doll; Gal Smiley has an action figure. They are pretending their toys are lifeguards.

Little Miss: Is yours a boy?

Gal Smiley: Yes.

Little Miss: Let’s pretend that he likes my girl, he likes her because her hair is very long and swishes all around her head.

Gal Smiley: NO, he likes her because she is a lifeguard and a hero.

Aw, I’m a great parent and a crappy parent simultaneously!

It’s overheard conversations like this that make me feel like there’s not much I can do to shape their personalities. They are who they are – obviously, having the exact same set of parents in the exact same household has resulted in two very different little girls, each with their own ideas and values.

Once when I was a teen, I asked my aunt how it was that she had gotten two such amazing little kids in my two younger cousins. I was shocked, SHOCKED, when she shrugged and said she really didn’t know. Surely she must have some tips, some secrets to share? Nothing?

Turns out, it really does feel as much of a crapshoot as my aunt implied.

Rather than complaining, though, this randomness really makes me relax. If I can’t do much one way or the other to mold them – then I can just kick back and get to know them.

Oh man, now I’m a lazy parent as well!

Ugh, this December is just kicking my ass. And the “c” key is broken on my laptop. Do you know how hard it is to complain about a month kicking your ass, without the “c” key? DO YOU?

So! Some quick updates. First, the gluten thing. Let me say again, thank you SO much to all those who offered kind words, recipes, ideas, links, and general support. I am already feeling much better and things are going okay. We’ve had some hits and some misses with the food thing but so far everyone is receiving nourishment and we have not starved to death. I have a bunch of new gluten-free cookie recipes to try out for the holidays and I have a hundred new kinds of flour in the kitchen and it’s all good.

Second, the advent calendar. It figures, after I went to all that trouble to make a calendar suitable for Lasting Tradition…the kids have not been that into it this year. As I feared, it is really hard to squeeze in the activities around homework and friends and Christmas prep and everything else that is going on around here. The Captain in particular is not interested in things like crafts and baking and ballet shows this year, so he has opted out of several of the activities, which kind of makes it less of a family thing, you know? On the other hand, the Little Miss is still excited about most things and so is finding it hard to wait until the big kids get home from school, and since they are busy and unenthusiastic I sometimes do her activity with her in the afternoon, so. We’re working it out. I think next year I need to brainstorm some new activities that will suit everyone.

Third, Sweet Smart Design is going well and I am really busy with it. But don’t let that deter you! Now taking bookings for January.

Fourth, there is pie in the fridge. What’s that, pie? You need some love and attention? I’M ON IT.

That last post was a little depressing for the holidays (although thank you SO MUCH for your supportive and kind comments), so I wanted to bump it down in favor of PIE.

Saturday night was my second annual pie party and many, many pies were eaten. Oh my, but they were delicious. I made four pies, a crust-less pie, two sets of tarts, and one set of mini-pies that were gluten free, egg free, milk free, and even sugar free. Those last ones were surprisingly delicious and the Captain LOVED them, which was very gratifying, as did our one guest who has similar food restrictions.

Man, do I ever love pie.

I never thought it would come to this.

One thing I don’t write about enough on this blog is food allergies. Three-fifths of our family have serious food allergies but the Captain wins the allergy competition by far. His list of allergies is huge and, sadly, continues to grow. It seems we add one new food allergy every year.

When people hear that he subsists on a diet that is free from eggs, milk, peanuts, tree nuts, soy, and other legumes like lentils and chick peas, with coconut looming as a dark horse, they often wonder what it is that he does eat. It can sound awfully intimidating to people who really like cheese and peanut butter and french toast, but we have learned to work around it. For years now I’ve done all our own baking, I’ve learned how to modify recipes for us, how to use the alternative products that (thank GOD) are available to us these days.

Here’s what I used to say to those people who sympathized with us: “At least we still have wheat! I don’t know what we’d do without wheat!”

Famous last words.

The Captain went for a new kind of allergy testing last week that indicates a growing sensitivity to wheat and gluten. So our doctor would like to take him off these products for at least six months, then reintroduce them, to see if we can help some growing problems he’s had lately with asthma and sinus congestion.

So, welcome to the world of gluten-free baking! Complete with no eggs, no milk, no soy flour, no chickpea flour, and no nut flours!

Oh joy.

I actually cried in the grocery store today. First because I have no idea what to have for dinner. I have been working on a fixed 4-week menu plan for a few years now, recipes I’ve made a hundred times that I can crank out at a moment’s notice. Our meals run like a well-oiled machine, I know where everything is in the grocery store that I will need from week to week. Now half of those meals are out, and I have no idea what to make. I don’t have the time, energy, or enthusiasm to start over from scratch – I have four new gluten-free cookbooks awaiting my attention but my getting-us-through-the-holidays strategy is likely going to involve hot dogs and rice crackers at least every other night.

Later I cried again because I actually found some products at the health food store that he can have. It’s not much but there is actually a line of cookies and granola bars that are free from ALL his allergens, and are gluten free too (made by Enjoy Life, GOD I LOVE YOU PEOPLE). And I cried to think of being able to hand my kind a granola bar like a normal parent to a normal kid. I cried because the very existance of these products means there may be others out there that share our experience, and people who love them and so are doing something about it. It was a moment of real self-pity that I hope will not be repeated, because I need to focus on the positives and embrace this and move forward happily if I really, really want to help my kid.

I know there are worse things out there, but I am so tired of the constant shrinking of our diet. I just want to be able to eat out with my family at a restaurant. I want to be able to throw a frozen pizza in the oven on days when I’m exhausted and can’t face cooking from scratch. I want to be able to travel, even just on a day trip, without packing and carrying an entire suitcase full of food.

But most of all, I want someone to figure out what the HELL causes allergies, then tell me what I have to do to fix it. It is so hard, so hard, not to feel like we are somehow at fault, that something in our house or lifestyle is causing it. I could live with the allergies if only I felt like this was the end of the line. Living with the idea that any food, previously considered safe, will suddenly become un-safe is very, very hard.

I find I am envious of people who have kids with just one allergy. People who can eliminate that one food and then carry on their merry way. And don’t even mention it to me if your kid had an allergy, then outgrew it. It only makes me want to rant, wail, and scream until someone tells me what you did, that I didn’t do. How did you fix it? How can I?

Deep breath.

Pull up the bootstraps.

Time to keep calm and carry on. I’m steering this effort and I need to buck up, soldier. Self-pity is getting me nowhere.

On a side note, anyone with some great gluten-free recipes or cookbooks to recommend is my new best friend. Bring on the suggestions.