Hold the Gluten, Pass the Cheese

I love cheese. LOVE IT. I could probably live off of a nice cheese and crackers plate. And wine. A little fig or dried cranberries would be welcome additions.

A few months ago I went through testing due to something they found when my appendix was removed last year. The doctor was convinced I had celiac disease. I spent the next 24 hours on google and realized that he was probably right... And then the blood test came back... Negative.

I was shocked. Shocked and relieved. They told me my results were close enough to consider further testing, but they recommended that I cut gluten from my diet, because I was clearly intolerant. From that conversation I went gluten-free for two months. TWO MONTHS of diligent gluten-free living. It wasn't nearly as hard as it sounds and - if anything - it just made me more aware of all of those things I absentmindedly shove in my mouth in a day. When you reach for a cookie and can't eat it, you actually realize you reached for it in the first place.

Other than some bleu cheeses, thankfully cheese has remained on my menu. It's made me realize that of all food allergies, dairy would for sure by the worst for me. Cutting gluten wasn't the worst thing in the world, but it did actually up my cheese consumption.

Am I completely gluten-free today? No. I had to gluten myself after a couple months of being off the stuff to see if there was a reaction. There really wasn't at first, so I haven't been as diligent about it... But little by little I've noticed ways that I just don't feel as good as I did when it was out of my system. So, I'm going back, but don't feel like I'll be too deprived. Luckily I found a few perfectly good gluten-free crackers to go with all of my cheese.

This post was inspired by The Whole Fromage by Kathe Lison, who traveled to France in search of its artisanal cheeses. Join From Left to Write on August 22 as we discuss The Whole Fromage.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Creating Our New Home

We bought a new house, but we’re not living in it just yet… Why?

Because of rooms like this…

Nothing says move in ready like coral colored border.

 

And this….

Our foundation needed a little bit of help.

 

Oh, and this is the pile of carpet and draperies we pulled out of the house…

1964 called. It wants its drapes and carpet back.

And we continue to learn new things that keep us from moving in. They’re piling up and so is the cost. My contractor is probably tired of hearing me ask: “How much is that going to cost?!?!” And my parents are kind enough to let us stay with them and pretend it’s no big deal. 

It’s stressful in a way I can’t explain. These aren’t just little issues that keep popping up. We’re dealing with major problems, but luckily everything is fixable. My kids miss their house. W asks every day about his toys and when we’ll get to go home. We’ve avoided play dates with our neighbors because it would just be too hard for W. I drove by the old house the other day to pick some mail up from a neighbor, thinking I was safe with just B and A. And as I turned the corner, passing our old driveway B started yelling “Home. My house! Home!” Our home - the only house our kids have ever known - is no longer ours. The heated floor that made our winter days so cozy, the mural Matt labored over for weeks, the new kitchen that I finally finished all belong to another family now. And we have a house that we don't even live in.

But, here’s the thing, we bought this house because of what it will be, not because of what it is today. We bought this house because I fell in love with it. I could see the house in five, ten years - not in 2013. And that’s why we bought our old house, the house we cried about leaving. I saw the same things in that house, the same potential that I see in this one.

I want my kids to remember this house fondly. I want it to be filled with laughter and fun and warmth (even without a heated floor). We bought it because it was a house that allowed us to put our mark on it. We will have to touch every inch of this house, whether with paint, refinished floors, new windows, appliances, tile… The list is endless. But, this allows us to create our own family home, not step into the choices of someone else.

I hope it all works out the way I envision it. I hope it is everything I feel like my family needs. And, most of all, I hope my kids always feel like this house is their home. I hope they'll come back and visit from whatever part of the country or world they're living and always feel that fullness inside of them.

This post was inspired by the novel This Is Paradise by Kristiana Kahakauwila, a collection of short stories that shares a view of Hawaiians few tourists ever experience - one of Hawaii as home. Join From Left to Write on August 8 as we discuss This Is Paradise.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Blaming Ourselves When Bad Things Happen

B recently had a terrible fall. It was the single most frightening moment of my life. I saw the entire thing. I was RIGHT THERE. It was the kind of fall that could have been much worse than the six stitches and diagnosis of a "mild head injury."

I saw it happen. I was holding the baby. W was there. Matt was in the other room. It was as bad as every nightmare I have ever had about something terrible happening to my children. I couldn't move fast enough. I needed a second to think. To figure out a plan. To assess his condition. To make everything ok.

I put the baby on the ground. I reached for B. And I was so thankful he was coherent and breathing and with me.

I can list the ways the accident could have been prevented. I described the fall to the EMT and then the emergency room doctors. I told them all the details, admitting my short falls. And I have seen it happen again and again in my mind. When I'm giving him a hug, when I'm driving down the street, when I'm in the middle of a meeting... The vision of his fall haunts me.

What haunts me more is the thought that a parent could react in any other way. That was the case in the book The Execution of Noa P. Singleton, my latest From Left to Write Book Club read, which inspired this post. A mother drops her child down the stairs and convinced she'll be blamed for doing it on purpose, she calls the police, claims a robbery, then trashes her house. This becomes the baby's first memory and echoes throughout her life.

This post was inspired by the novel The Execution of Noa P. Singleton by Elizabeth L. Silver. Mere months before Noa’s execution, her victim’s mother changed her mind Noa’s sentence and vows to help stay the execution. Join From Left to Write on July 30 as we discuss The Execution of Noa P. Singleton.. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Big News: Hannemaniacs Are Moving

We sold our house. Well, first we found a house we liked, got into a bidding war, won the contract, listed our house, sold our house fast, found issues with our new house during inspection -- and then things halted. The foundation needs some help and there is evidence of flooding. So, we spent lots of time talking to vendors and specialists and considered our options. And ultimately decided: A house with sinking foundation that floods? WE'LL TAKE IT!

Because, yes, we are that crazy. And also because, let's face it, we Hannemaniacs love a good project. So, that my friends is the next chapter... We're moving into a house that needs to be totally renovated. We will literally touch every inch of the house. We will sink all of our extra money into the house. We will be totally exhausted. Yet we're totally excited. We have vision.

It's not all bad. We're doubling our square footage. We love the layout of the house. The location and neighborhood are terrific. And it's a diamond in the rough (REALLY, REALLY ROUGH).

So, right now we're packing and talking plans. And trying not to get too sentimental about every "last" we have in this house we have loved so much for the last five years. We moved into this house with vision. We made it our own, which is why I know that in a few years our new house will feel just as good to us. Hopefully better.