1 year of wingin it

In some ways it seems like it's been more than a year since...since...since we went down the rabbit hole and everything got all flippy; Since I mourned the loss of wheat and was too numb to mourn the loss of corn two weeks later.  I still go through the cycles of greif sometimes, mostly hitting anger over our nation's "food" supply and what we've done to it, especially on days like last Wednesday when Sasha had a headache and an earache and every single medication has corn in it.  But since we started reclaiming Sasha a year ago, I have hardly had occasion to even want to give her medication.  I on the other hand just saw my neuro and thankfully re-maxed-out on my preventative migraine med so that the next three months won't be a box of torture like the last three months.  You win some, you lose some.  But in this year crammed full of research and migraines and endless making of food and describing of symptoms, we have come a looooooooong long way.

Last year

For example, FINALLY we can make good bread!  It only took until two weeks ago.  (-: We can also make marshmallows in various flavors and colors.  I whip up guac pretty fast, and slowly but surely our safe food options are expanding.  There are even lots of cookie recipe options which is nice, and since the great wheat revelation came smack dab ON my Mom's birthday, it occurs to me I better get my amazing cake on. Gosh, I was feeding the girls sandwiches on organic wheat bread from Costco in the car on the way to my Mom's work on her birthday just last year; We were bringing her flowers and balloons.  When we got home the rash on Sasha's face flared up when I had my "Aha!" moment, and life hasn't at ALL been the same since.  Our kitchen is simpler, we have less food over all but we eat all of it.  There are even two places we can eat out, Chipotle and In-N-Out so long as we order carefully!

Although, I'm still stressed out about food daily it seems.  The price of an organic 3-pack of sunbutter went up from about 17 dollars to about 30 dollars overnight, no joke.  The inorganic kinds all have additives, one of which might be a corn product, I have to contact the company and find out the source of their Vitamin E. *sigh*  Sasha's reacted to Vitamin E before.  Sometimes it's derived from corn. Why?!! *shaking fist*  And of course we have to do sunbutter bc peanutbutter kills emily, and it has to be the gluten-free kind.  Plus who wants added sugar and crappy salt and pesticides anyfreakingway!!!!!  UGH!  Then on the way to school today, I had to hold my heart together while driving as Sasha said, "I can't wait to get to Heaven, so I can have a cheese tortilla!" After coming home and doing an hour of research to determine that I can't source the Teff flour for most GF tortilla recipes that is not processed near wheat, corn, nuts, or all three, I found a tortilla recipe that calls for chickpea flour, which I can make.  And everything else forbidden in the recipe I can substitute.  Hopefully.  I'm also willing to give raw, grass-fed cow-milk cheese a try and see how she does with it, since cutting out dairy has been no light-switch-cure-all anyway.  So we just might be in business.  Or we might fail.  But we're gonna try...

Me: "Look at me with your eyes!"

Sasha: "Like this?"

I need a drink.  I need to pray and meditate.  I need to do some yoga and take a shower.  Thank Jesus that I have friends and family who love the snot out of me.  This is our life, one year later.  So much love, so much rescue, so much heartache and hassle.  The phrase, "When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras." does not apply to us.  They are using tempura paint with corn starch in it on the kids today at Sasha's school for facepainting.  I had to send her with some of mine and my mom's makeup.  I went and bought a set of blue and sparkly eye shadows yesterday so she would have a blue palette to work with, since that probably just has less corn in it, and hopefully won't make her itch like we know the tempura paint does.  Later today I'll be making green food coloring out of safe green sugar crystals and water, since regular food coloring isn't safe.  When you hear hoofbeats, think flying orange zebra unicorns.  And in one more year, maybe we'll steer by our 7th dorsal wings over to some cheese tortillas for dinner...

P.S. Mom's Maple Carob birthday cake was off the HOOK!
#screwyoufoodallergies

Love and Darkness

"In case you've forgotten on this Valentine's Day, love is not about candy, cards, flowers, jewelry, sex, or feeling happy. Love is hard. Love doesn't happen without work, choice, and huge portions of forgiveness. Happy Valentine's Day...go LOVE your spouse, family, friend, co-worker. I LOVE you. 
'Love is patient, it is kind, it is not jealous,does not brag, and is not arrogant. It is not rude,it is not self-seeking,it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things.' 1Corinthians 13:4-7"

My wise friend Julie posted that yesterday.  And oh my god, what a whammy.  I'm running out of attack-the-migraine meds, I've got a week and a half to go before I hit the neurologist again for more Botox, and probably at least 3 weeks after that before said botox kicks in.  And the unknown here is what we're going to do about the #epicfail of trying to reduce my every day migraine preventative meds.  I do not love my life.  I have recently laid in bed, writhing in pain, imagining different ways that I could die, or even my family and I could die together so that no one would have to take care of the girls with their heinous food allergies.  There, I said it.  Chronic illness is a total bitch man.  But let me tell you about life, love, and Valentine's Day.

When I get to the bottom and start imagining ways to die, I usually start telling God that something's gotta change and either he's going to save me or I'm going to end up addicted to drugs just for starters.  Luckily I've got some great friends and family, so when Valentine's Day was approaching and I got roped into providing two types of cookies for a certain preschool class, plus bread, juice, jam, and frosting just for Sasha, I was able to call for backup.  And 'though I did pay a friend of mine for a couple of days of baking, that money probably did not cover the 7AM freak-out-wake-up call he got on Valentine's day because I had a huge migraine and was on the don't-drive-while-on-these-meds, still needing help assembling everything.  We miraculously managed to get both girls to school on-friggin'-time, complete with cards and baked goods!  I don't know how to love this life, but sometimes it still loves on me.  

I don't have answers for all the ugly days I spend under a blanket in a dark room, where the meds don't touch the pain and nausea of a migraine.  But the girls and I haven't yet lacked for a blanket or a room.  When I'm too tired and sick to eat, food is still an option.  Knowing that doesn't always make it better, but if love is a choice, and if love is hard, and requires forgiveness, and hopes all things and endures all things, then maybe I can get my ass out of bed one more time.  I cannot forget that people love me, since that fact is made clear to me daily.  I can forgive myself for forgetting and try again to live, and possibly try to love life again.  I may even be able to forgive the people who expect me to be "normal" and do normal people things like go on playdates, have a "normal" job, take happy pictures etc.  My life is a disaster, I'm definitely single,  and that may have been the best Valentine's Day ever.

The Millenium Keyfalcon

I have 12 new pairs of socks that I'm never going to lose, and they all fit crappy.  Where do you buy socks that don't suck, where the elastic at the top isn't too squeezy?  Not at Target, that's for sure.  I bought 2 perfectly preferable pairs at Gap once, and I have a pair and half left, worn thin and ready to burst.  I even bought some different kinds at Target thinking surely they couldn't all be bad.  I'll be sending the 6-pack of squeezy athletic-y ones to my sister who has smaller feet than me, and is athletic-y. The longer ones that are just squeezy at the top (and are the exact same sock size as the other kind) I don't know what to do with.  What I do know is that I am back to square two, for at least I have a damn mesh bag to safely stow whatever future footwear I may manage to procure.  Ooooh, by the time I get this all figured out, Winter will be over, and socks will be on sale?  But Lord help me, I even bought a bunch of sock in China once, IN CHINA and they fit better than these!  AND I STILL HAVE A PAIR OF THOSE!!!

Needless to say, I may need to revisit this blog title.  This whole stupid sock thing is completely representative of my life, specifically of me trying to manage...everything really.  I keep trying to make things as normal and easy as possible, and it's just not possible.  Life is an atrocious hassle, I still hunt for any socks at all, and for food that doesn't hurt the kids, and for balance between migraine meds, and for energy to raise the kids well...But there are still socks on my feet, be they old, mismatched (or was it matched?), borrowed, or all three.  I definitely feel crazy, and as it turns out, nut particulate still occasionally makes it into my house.

There are times I regret claiming the free piano off the curb in front of a neighbor's house.  The jury's still out on whether it will ever stay in tune, it takes up a lot of space we don't really have, and I found a peanut shell in it the other day.  And if I didn't have it, I wonder if I would have invested in a keyboard, something with a volume switch, a headphone jack, and not prone to hiding death allergens. If the piano stays in tune it will earn its keep, for on the nights I crave wheat and chocolate (ie: all of them) I need only a handful of carob chips and the smell of a freshly tuned scale to help drag me out of the trenches.  11 months into a wheat and corn free life I still haven't figured out food, Sasha's stomach has started getting upset again even sans dairy, my socks STILL mock me, and it sure seems like life only gets harder every year.  But let them mock me who may, while I play the piano for a day, a week, a couple of months before it slips out of tune again.  I'll have a migraine by then anyway.

Then it will make one hell of a gorgeous bookcase.  And through a migraine daze I will stare at my pretty converted piano/bookcase in my old, borrowed, mismatched socks.  But today I played a tuned piano.  And it was awesome.

This Socks

I don't know why it makes me sad but it does.  I refused for so long to buy a mesh unmentionables bag to wash my socks in.  It's not that I mind wearing matched socks, It's just that since I was a kid, I have worn an awful lot of mismatched for the simple reason that it's a waste of time and energy to go about searching for all the missing socks just to find a matching pair, so long as you have two feet and two socks to put on them.  *sigh*  I swear the universe is trying to teach me some lesson.  It's reached epidemic proportions.  I've slid by for the past couple of years on weather and not needing to wear socks for too many months of the year.  (hail the central coast!) But for the past two years in a row almost all of my new socks have disappeared, it's been a cold winter, and all of my few remaining socks are worn out.  It's the perfect storm.  And as a result of this storm of sock drama, today I purchased the disavowed bag in which to wash my socks.  12 new pairs went in, 12 new pairs came out, and alas they are all matched and sitting in my sock drawer.  I feel like a little piece of me has not died, but kissed never never land goodbye.

I am way more confused that sad really.  I mean, I have a 6 1/2 and a 4 1/2 year old.  Granted, a lot of their socks spend time in the lost sock box, but most of them eventually come out of there!  And a lot of socks have made it through both kids before wearing out, and those are some tiny pieces of clothing!  Then there's my Mom who bypasses the problem entirely by having 700 pairs.  No joke, she's kind of bachelory in that she'll buy more rather than launder sometimes.  I have vowed several times to never again sort her socks but every so often I still do, since I pilfer her collection when I get desperate for footwear, which has happened increasingly of late.  Which led to an interesting dilemma at Target today.

I stood in the hosiery aisle at Target after having thoroughly secured my "Mommy" status by being there at 9:15AM and having a cart filled with clothespins, kid hangers, a mesh bag, and bananas, and contemplated my options.  There were long funky but cheap looking sock, ones I could see myself wearing and my mom not stealing, ones I could see myself wearing but my mom stealing, and just old boring ones like my mom would wear to work.  Funny thing about my Mom is that she thinks she doesn't steal my clothes, but she totally does.  But like I said, I "borrow" her socks so...anyway, I went with the ones I thought she would be least likely to steal, inadvertently or otherwise.  (advertently?)  But now to keep my feet warm, I can't just throw my sock willy nilly on the floor in the hallway with the rest of the laundry! What a dumb piece of grown-uppery! I was bullied into shaving my legs when I was 12, and plucking my eyebrows around 19.  Mesh bagging my socks in my 30s, what's next, watching Downton Abby?!  I just started watching 30 Rock!!!

Light Sabers Have No Dairy

I have an idea about letting go.  I'm so overwhelmed right now by 3 1/2 days of migraine that it's hard to even write about it.  Has it only been 3 1/2 days?  It feels closer to 2 weeks.  *moaaaaaan*  Anyway, I have all this old music I need to let go of, which I think means put on youtube when I get the energy.  Which means who knows when?  But instead of holding onto it because it's old and I think it sucks now or whatever, I just need to let go of it and let it encourage who it may.  (and also let people laugh at it, but it's all good)  It's not doing anyone any good cooped up in the recesses of my brains.  So, I have a goal.  But I also have an obstacle: Adjusting Meds.

Adjusting Meds=the devil.  I am depressed because there is no winner in the game of pick-which-med-I-get-to-be-on.  Which meds do I want to be on more of, the preventative kind or the attack-the-migraine kind?  One makes me lose weight and my hair fall out, and one has a slight risk of heart attack, and either way I'm exhausted!  Either I'm exhausted but slightly functional and don't have a full-blown migraine, or I'm exhausted, non-functional, and defeated because I have a full-blown migraine, and am on lesser amounts of preventative meds but more attack-the-migraine meds.  Or maybe it was just that I was travelling and then it was the "holidays".  The only way to find out is to wait a few more months and see it I survive.  Letting go...

Alright, good news.  Still no tummy aches or toilet weirdness for Sasha sans dairy.  $#*!.  I like dairy. At least dairy isn't in everything like wheat and corn.  Also my Mom is back from her travels so I am no longer alone with my little blessings AND the ants AND a migraine.  Things are looking up!  Also marshmallows have no dairy.  Music has no dairy.  Light Sabers have no dairy...

Exact Change

                                                   December 14, 2012

If I were going to write now, it would surely be something about my life that is changing.  Changing, finally changing after so long caught in a rut grown crusty.  Everyone knows that change sucks right?  Well, not all change sucks of course, but all change is difficult on some level at least.  And if I could pick what changed, surely I would pick that my migraines would cease, immediately and forever, and that Emily’s migraines would cease immediately and forever.  Hah, but that is not what’s going on, although I don’t know how unfortunate that is exactly.  For sucky and painful and difficult ‘though change can be, infinitely greater can be the reward.  

I am out of the rut, and slammed into the learning curve.  It’s wicked steep I’m finding.  It’s kind of like when I was in that awful marriage, I didn’t have time to process how truly awful it was, I was just trying to plow through to survive.  Since extracting myself from that situation I’ve had to do a different although much better type of plowing through to survive.  The survival has been much healthier to be sure, but there’s been plenty of stress, and only now am I discovering what it’s done to me, how I’ve handled it.  And oh my...revelation is kind of flying at me!  I have trusted God with an awful lot, but I need to Not stop.  I have taken many steps of faith, but there are MANY more to be taken.  I have gotten incredibly run down in my walk with God.  Migraines, kid with migraines, schools vs. food allergies, maintaining a house, trying to maintain some sort of musical life, trying to maintain some sorts of friendships...oh right, ministry.  Love God and make him known.  Make disciples, pray your face off.  I remember these things now a little.

I’m on a plane, going to a reunion of a young adult group that I helped start and run for a couple of years, oh so long ago before I had kids, when I was first married and first discovered that said marriage was in deep shit.  Transparency and Accountability was our young adult group mantra.  Is this my restart?  Interestingly enough, we met at and because of a Christian radio station called the Lighthouse, and the building is in fact shaped like a lighthouse.  WECC, FM 89.3 (Jacksonville 92.9, Waycross 105.9) (http://www.thelighthousefm.org/) It’s been calling me back for many years, and finally I’m coming home to the Lighthouse, at Christmastime no less.  Bring. It. On.

                                                          January 3, 2013

I’ve been home for exactly 2 weeks, and I’ve been telling people that it feels like I was on a 3 week mission trip that got crammed into 5 or 6 days.  I’m not even sure how to go about processing everything that went on.  Perhaps more than anything I came away feeling encouraged and validated, having been able to encourage and hopefully validate the dozens of people I met and interacted with.  I spend so much of my time feeling defective and lame, fighting just to make one end of one day meet the beginning of the next.  And in Georgia (well, JAX) from the time the plane hit the ground to the time it took off again, I got to engage people I love and miss, and even some I just met for the first time, all because I used to be involved face first in ministry, because of the road I’ve walked, because God has never left.  And probably, because I am lame and defective.  I can’t forget that part.  And probably he’ll keep using me.  Hm...

There were consequences of course to my sad body.  I was on attack-the-migraine meds the whole time, culminating in don’t-drive-when-you’re-on-these meds by the last day.  *shrug*  What do you do?  That’s why I have them I suppose.  Apparently I am doing so well on the Botox that we’re starting to lower the amount of Topamax I’m on!  Just because I had a migraine for a month straight the last time we tried that, does not mean that’s going to happen this time!  I swear that’s not what that means.  I swear I'm not the slightest bit worried that that's what that means.  *__*

So snap back to today’s festivities, when Sasha’s right eye hurt from the light.  (Sasha, not Emily who already gets migraines.) Back it up, Sasha’s been having random tummy aches for a couple of few months or so-ish.  So Grandma and I decided to try dropping dairy for a while to see if it helps, even though the girls have already outgrown their milk allergies, and can already not eat 5 million other things between them.  It’s only been a few days, but no tummy aches since.  Of course, her eye hurts from the light today.  (...giant.......pause...) *twitch* #notmakingthisup  Oh right, God’s timing for my trip to Georgia was stupid obvious, I’m having a spiritual reawakening, and we have been provided for abundantly, nonstop, without fail, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.  I’m not giving up peace just because I don’t get the exact change that I want.

I will wait and wonder, about ministry, about my life, and about my children.  Heh. It’s kind of funny to be back on the rice milk, because each of the girls had a slightly different name for it when they were still in diapers. Memories.  (: Good thing we decided to drop dairy AFTER I started letting go of things, otherwise I would have really freaked out.  Wait a second, cows eat corn, even organic cows I bet!  Stupid Corn!!!  Once Sasha’s tummy’s clear for a while I was thinking of getting my rear in gear and going for the raw grass-fed cow milk.  Or maybe one of the other 17 options flying around in my head.  It really does seem like too much at times, but then another breath happens.  And look, one more.  And what was I saying about prayer and worship and people?

"I will wait for you, Jesus.  You're the sun in my horizon.  All my hope's in you, Jesus.  I can see you now arising."  Jason Upton

November in Nine

1. I'm playing more music!
2. I'm creatively bound
3. I'm not sleeping well

On the upside of all that is the fact that I'm playing more music, which a few months ago, I didn't know was even going to be possible.  Of course, nothing is easy.  It goes along with the constant state of rehab I'm in I suppose.  It's like, instead of surfacing from a long nasty migraine and realizing the shocking mess that has accumulated, I'm surfacing musically and realizing how depressed and detached I've become about it.  I've managed to worship through music because I can always worship but that's about it in over a year.  I prayed recently to play more music and Jesus was like, "You want more music?  You think you can handle more music?  Mua-ha-ha-hah...".  Music re-enters my life, and there are cobwebs in my arms, and my music-brain is sore.  It's weird as hell.  I can't even sit at a piano and play for fun.  If you had ever told me that sitting at a piano and playing for "fun" would be a stressful experience, I would have punched you and walked away.  So maybe I'm not sleeping well because I'm excited about playing music on top of the fact that time change is still kicking my butt on top of the fact that I'm surprised that getting back into music is going to be as much work as it's going to be.

4. I don't know anyone who has to eat like us
5. I dont know anyone who gets migraines like I do
6. I dread the Holidays

If I sound stressed, yeah.  You know, we do have a lot of fun around here.  The girls are HILARIOUS!  My Mom is unstoppably quick witted, and even the dog is silly.  But then, I do feel this need to keep the kids alive, which involves taking care of myself which involves trying to unravel the mystery of the migraines that won't die.  Also, 9 months ago when we started discovering Sasha's wheat and corn sensitivities, I expected that we'd be further along in the making of food than we are by now, being old-pro at food allergies and all.  I could cry this minute just thinking about the fact that corn permeates every gd food product in America, the government subsidizes it, Monsanto sprays pesticides on it, and Sasha reacts to it.  Vitamin E is an effing corn product.  Citric acid and Ascorbic acid are effing corn products.  And if I had more energy, I feel like it would go along way in our particularly afflicted family.  We just backed out of a road trip to see some family that we never see, because I need a nap every day to avoid more migraines than I already get, and because we'd have to feed the kids on the road for several days, and God forbid something happen to our food supply, and what the hell would we pack anyway?  So, that sucked...

7. My grace is plenty for you
8. (read: Let go you idiot)
9. (...shoot...)

I keep thinking that maybe since God saw fit to throw more music into my life, he would heal me at least a little, or fix the sleep funk I'm in or something.  But the answer I keep getting is that his grace is enough for me.  Noted.  I did have a bit of a revelation that I am holding on to an awful lot 'though.  I think it was the piano that clued me in.  But more than just whatever's holding me back from freely running my fingers over the keys like I used to, I feel like I have to hold on to so many other things when really, I don't.  I mean, I am the human being responsible for feeding my kids, but we eat!  Every single day since the great de-gluten of March and the great de-corn 2 weeks later, we have eaten!  God has provided food that doesn't kill or maim either of my children, and I need to let go of this feeling that we're going to run out of safe food.  While most food in America is in fact poison to one or both of my kids, there is still plenty to be had.  Boom, let go.  Trust, God.  And that extends to getting migraines and playing music as well.  There is still plenty of life and plenty of music to be had, even though I can in no ways envision it.  I'm pretty sure that Jesus Creator is perfectly aware of what's going on.

I'm not sure how letting go is going to play out on a day to day basis in my life, practically speaking.  I think being aware is a good place to start.  I think my prayers will be different.  Maybe I'll write a song about it, if I could just get my feet under me.  My life is just so weird and I feel so lost sometimes.  (let go you idiot?) (already forgot) Cleaning off the piano and getting it tuned is probably another good step to take.  Those cobwebs are helping no one.  Let go, shake it out, see the truth.

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink, or about your body, what you will wear.  Isn't there more to life than food and more to the body than clothing?...But above all pursue his kingdom and righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.  So then, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.  Today has enough trouble of its own."