I could possibly be okay with this

Warning -- this is a bit long, and possibly boring. But -- it's my new reality. Just don't say I didn't forewarn you...

So you may or may not know that I have severe wheat and egg allergies. Kinda sucks. As in the "I-have-been-super-angry-about-this-for-months" kind of way. You see, I haven't always had these allergies. There are few things I like better than homemade bread straight out of the oven, slathered with butter. The crisp crust is delicious and the soft middle is heavenly. I love going to the grocery store right as they pull the french bread out of the oven. Just inhaling the aroma is a little bit of a high for me. I would get a loaf of it and eat the whole thing by myself. I love bread so much, I would pass up a platter of brownies just to enjoy a loaf of chewy sourdough bread, no jam or butter needed.

The problems started after baby #6.  Every time I ate something with whole wheat flour, my throat and belly would hurt, as though I had swallowed shards of glass, and it would become slightly swollen, as though I had a sore throat. The more whole wheat was involved, the worse the reaction, and as time went on, the reaction went from a sore throat to my throat closing off completely. Umm, scary! Until I figured out what was causing it, I just carried liquid Benadryl with me everywhere I went.

For a very long time, I could get away with white flour. White bread didn't bother my throat, but I soon found the next day my joints would ache and be very inflamed. I soon eliminated bread altogether and rarely ate baked goods, but you know me, I love to bake -- plus I was still in denial of how bad off the reaction really was. I would bake something up, have one little piece, and give the rest away to neighbors or friends so that it wouldn't be tempting me around the house. After a while, even that little bit was bothering me. I could take just one bite and feel my lips, tongue, and throat swelling immediately.  Once, Amanda ground some wheat in preparation to make some homemade wheat bread. I walked out in the kitchen and immediately my throat began to close off simply from the flour in the air. By the time I got back into my bedroom, I was laboring so hard to get enough air in that I couldn't even talk. Benadryl to the rescue.

If I had eggs, the reaction was also severe, which is sad since Eggs Benedict on toasted English Muffins with fresh tomatoes from the garden and creamy Hollandaise sauce is possibly one of my favorite meals ever.  For a long time I was still able to eat eggs in baked goods. The makeup of the protein in the eggs changes when heated, plus it was a small amount compared to eating a fried egg. Whether it's the flour or the eggs now, I don't know... but the combination of them both in baked goods is now deadly.

It is to the point that as tempting as that brownie looks, I cannot eat a single bite. My throat closes immediately, my lungs seize up, I get very light headed and dizzy. I am afraid the next time I eat something I will go into anaphylactic shock. Bad idea without an epi-pen handy.


Some have suggested I have celiac disease -- and I may. Typically, celiac disease will not produce such an immediate life threatening reaction. There is a big difference between the auto-immune response of celiac disease (a gluten intolerance) and the immunogloben iEg response from an actual allergy. Both are dangerous, both will wreck your life, but celiac disease doesn't usually swell your throat and tongue or give you itchy hives immediately. I'd like to know for sure what it is -- but that is going to have to wait til I have money to throw at blood tests and skin prick tests.  Especially because there are still a few other things I am suspecting as allergens as well. (Whey, for example.)

Either way - I have one answer. Don't eat it. Don't breathe it. Don't get it on your skin, and if you do - wash it off in a hurry.

Take a look at any of your baking recipes, or pantry staple ingredients. Remove the ones with flour and eggs. What do you get?  A whole lot of rice and beans.

Can you see why I am NOT excited about baking or cooking lately?

Well... there is hope. For the first time EVER I am excited about baking a wheat free, egg free cake.

 (Pause and shout for joy with me!!!)

I was in the health food store yesterday picking up some Alfalfa tablets, and noticed some incredible wheat free-egg free-soy free-everything free coconut macaroons and fudge truffle cake.  It looked so silky and smooth and delicious! One problem, - they wanted $7.49 for one tiny piece of cake!  (Prices are apparently lower if you buy direct from  www.rawmelissa.com)

But it got the wheels in my brain turning.  I have slowly been letting go of the anger about what I can't eat, and trying to accept the things I can eat. I've read blogs and I know there are alternative flours to use, and egg replacers. Eliza was even kind enough to go buy some egg replacer... but there was a major mental block that said "This is hard! This is unfair! I hate this! I am not okay with this!"

Besides, something about making french bread with rice flour just seems so wrong.  And how am I supposed to get a perfectly moist, perfectly flavored Homemade Hostess Cupcake without flour or eggs?  Moist layered cakes with amazing flavor combinations are one of my favorite things to make!

Well... get ready for a whole new revolution of what a layered cake looks like. I looked at the ingredients for Raw Melissa's truffle cake, and remembered the "raw cake" a friend makes using almonds and cocoa. I looked online for some other recipes, and the more I look... the more excited I get.

Watch out world, because I have some baking to do.

Take a look at this...

Blueberry Cake Balls  (You'll have to scroll past the pink poodle part.)

Peppermint Chocolate Cake 

And this Raspberry Chocolate Mousse Cake.



The party's just started people. This is going to be fun :)

 - Rachel

Things I Like About Me

On twitter today, a fellow tweeter posted a link that led me to another link that led me to another link.... you get the picture. Bottom line, I ended up reading a post that challenged others to write a list of things they like about themselves, to recognize the good in yourself and your life, and to realize that you are enough. It's so easy to feel like we aren't good enough, we aren't good enough mothers, we aren't good enough at keeping the house clean, we aren't good enough at ________ (fill in the blank.)   She challenged us to just be enough, and to write the list.

Two years ago, this would have been impossible for me to write. In fact, I remember being at a dinner party with friends and being asked what I was proud of. I was at such a low point struggling with postpartum depression that I couldn't answer. I couldn't verbalize anything that was good about me.

Now I can. I'm proud of it. I'm glad for it. I'm grateful for those who have helped me and encouraged me and taught me to start believing in myself as being good and capable again.

So, here's my list.  I'd love to see yours.

1. I see opportunities.
2. I am capable.
3. I am honest.
4. I care.
5. I love.
6. I laugh.
7. I learn quickly.
8. I am great at giving "under-doggies" when I push my kids on the swing.
9. I know how to shine my sink.
10. I can be meticulous and detailed when I need to be.
11. I understand the difference of when I don't need to be.
12. I can let my kids get themselves dressed, with their pants on backwards, and not be embarrassed about it at the supermarket.
13. I am a great teacher.
14. I am giving.
15. I am a great cook.
16. I make excellent Homemade Hostess Layered Cake.
17. I am a good wife.
18. I sing to my children.
19. I love to help others.
20. I have raised children that love to read and learn.

#41. I sometimes take good pictures.

21. I can forgive.
22. I am willing to help others, even at my expense.
23. I am protective of my children when I ought to be and can still let them learn independently and experience life when they have the opportunity.
24. I make amazing banana bread, though I have to acknowledge Ry's sister Barb for showing me how.
25. I have learned, have grown, and will continue to - even when it hurts.
26. I am not the same person I as ten years ago. I am wiser. I am more willing to look at myself.
27. Even if I have not always succeeded, I have always tried.
28. I allow myself to heal. I actively work to understand and let go of things that hurt.
29. I actively work to solve problems.
30. I love my Father in Heaven and know that He lives, that Jesus loves me, and that he hears my prayers. I know this, even when times are rough, when things aren't going my way. 


Ryan called in the middle of me writing this post and asked if he could help. I said yes, so the rest of this list is from Ry about me...

31. I smell good.
32. I have awesome kids.
33. Everyone can trust me.
34. I'm cute.
35. I make yummy grilled cheese sandwiches.
36. I make yummy pancakes.
37. I am awesome at selling books.
38. He likes it when I play the piano.
39. I make him laugh.
40. I help him smile.

He said he could keep on adding to this list of why he likes me, but that it would take the rest of the night.

I love that man!

So, what is something you like about you?

Running My Brains Out

Oh boy, did I get myself into trouble today.

Daisy came in earlier this evening and flopped down next to me on the couch as she said "Mom, I just ran my brains out."

"Oh yeah?" I said, as I thought to myself, "Hey, I haven't worked out or gotten any exercise in today, maybe I should go run with her."   You see, Ryan and I both challenged each other to do certain things every day while he is in Oklahoma this month.  One of the things I'm supposed to be doing is working out.

And so, naively, I said, "Want me to run my brains out with you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked wearily, head still down on the couch.

"I mean, you take me running. I'll go wherever you go."

Can we say bad idea?  One second ago, she had been red-faced, panting, and thrown herself onto the couch, completely worn out. The very instant the words came out of my mouth, she suddenly popped up, refreshed, rejuvenated and ready to run.

I should have known then I had asked for more than I bargained for. Before we even got to the door, Braelin had his running shoes ready and was planning on going with us. Carolina was begging to come too.

"No, you take me running tomorrow okay?"

Second mistake. Boy, was I digging myself in deeper.

Daisy took off running out the door, out the gate, and around the corner. She booked it to the back gate, onto the driveway, and around to the front yard.  Before we even got one lap around the house, I was ready to quit.

Let me explain something. I never run. I hate to run!  What had I gotten myself into?!!  

She got a little gleam in her eye as she realized that I hadn't limited her to the yard and took off down the street. I tried my best to keep up with her, failing miserably evidently, because every so often she would stop and wait for me to catch up before taking off again.

This little girl had moments ago been lying on the couch, barely able to move, panting as though she would pass out any moment. Now, she was sprinting down the street as though she had trained for this all year. And that's when I realized - she had. She had been running every day at school for a year. They require the kids to run around the track three times, and though she always complained about it, she did it.

Miss Daisy - Summer 2011

There was no way she would be stopping anytime soon.

I puffed and panted, my face growing redder with every step.  I finally talked her into running to our friends house a couple blocks away, thinking then I could sit and rest a bit before talking her into running home.

No luck. Sheila wasn't home, and off we ran again. She turned right, then left, then right again, turned the corner a couple blocks down, and started headed farther west, farther away from home.

"Wait!" I cried. "The splash park is this way. Want to run to the splash park?" At this point I'm trying anything to get her to head back toward home instead of farther away.  Luckily, she agrees that the splash park would be fun, and off we go.  The closer we get, the more inviting the water looks. I'm hot, tired, and ready to go back home. She takes my hand and we run through the streams of water spraying in every direction, giggling as we went.  Yay!  She'll want to go home next, right?

Wrong.

"No Mom, I want to go 6 more places, because I'm six years old." Places. As in stores. She wants to run to stores. Like Lin's Supermarket, 11 blocks down. Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!

By this point, I'm bribing her. Ice cream. A movie. Yes, I admit it. It was pathetic. But her pace hasn't slowed a bit, and I'm sure she would have no problem jogging the 11 blocks to the grocery store without breaking a sweat. Can you blame me?

We finally made it home, her teasing me the whole way that I really "walked my brains out and didn't run!" Who greets us at the doorway?  Braelin, Carolina, Taliesin, and Tyler... all reminding me that they each get to take me running too.

Oh boy. I AM in trouble. But maybe I'll also get in shape....

Wish me luck!  And if you see me running behind one of my kids this week, red faced and panting -- feel free to laugh... after you hand me a cold bottle of water.

- Rachel

Labels

Shameful. Pathetic. Embarrassing. Ungrateful. Selfish. Attention seeking. Unfaithful. Unrighteous. Weak. It's all in your head! You just don't pray enough. You just don't read scripture enough. You're just not righteous enough, not close enough to God.

These are some of the labels that I often felt when someone would find out I was experiencing postpartum depression. It's not as if I didn't have my own set of labels I was busy sticking on myself.

Crazy. Stupid. Weak. A total mess. A horrible mother. A monster to my kids. An awful wife. A pathetic housewife. An horrible friend. Crazy, crazy, crazy, and a failure at pretty much everything.

Throw in postpartum anxiety and PTSD, and the list of labels and hurtful comments from others grew even longer.

You just need to exercise more. You're just allowing yourself to be weak. You brought it on yourself. It's because you had all those kids!  You're just nutritionally deficient. You just need more minerals. You just won't let go of negative feelings. You're just holding grudges. You're just blowing things out of proportion.  It's because you've judged others. It's because you've judged your mother.

Labels in and of themselves are not bad things, in fact I've found that labeling things often helps me understand them, and then know how best to deal with them. But the labels on my life as I dealt with PPD were heavy, weighing me down, and worst of all -- I believed every one of them. Somehow this was my fault because I just wasn't enough, wasn't good enough, and wasn't doing the right thing. Somehow I could fix this if only I were good enough, but no - I was a failure.

It wasn't true. It wasn't true for me, and it isn't true for you.

Now, it is labels like this that I try to use to help other mothers experiencing PPD understand what's real. What's true. And what they can do.

Postpartum depression is a REAL physical problem, that isn't all made up in your head.
Postpartum depression is not uncommon, and it's certainly not something that is your fault, or that you can fix just be being good, eating the right vitamin, or simply by thinking the right positive thought.
Postpartum is complex, there is not one cause, and there is not one cure. But there IS something that will help you. There is hope. You will get past this.
Postpartum depression means you are STRONG. You are strong! You have given birth to a baby. YOU are amazing. You are going through a hard time, but you are strong. You will get through this. You won't always feel this way!
Postpartum depression is a little piece of hell -- but you ARE amazing, and you WILL get through this!
Postpartum depression is REAL. It is a physical ailment, just as having two broken legs would be. 
And yes, I know I repeated myself. The fact that PPD is a real and is a physical problem is perhaps one of the hardest things for someone to wrap their brain around - until they go through it themselves. 
There is HELP for postpartum depression. There is HELP available for you.
You are not weak. You are not weak for needing help. You are not weak for accepting help. 

And, you are NOT in this alone. 


PS -- Congratulations to Katherine Stone at PostpartumProgress for her 7 year blogiversary! You've helped so many people, and I refer friends to your site so many times since I found your blog again.




 

Baby K with his Dad

Though I wish circumstances were different for this baby and his parents, I fully support his parents in giving him the best life they can, full of love and nurture, involvement and respect. Brig - you're holding a little bit of innocence. Make the best life you can for him, brother. And let me know if there is something I can do to help you on your new journey as a Dad.

Love you, Rachel

Baby K

 Maybe it is simply the innocence of a newborn child, or perhaps it is that the love between a mother and a child is one of the strongest bonds of love there is... 

whatever the reason, a mother in love with her child is a beautiful thing.  

Quilla asked me to take some pictures of her with Baby K. 

She had some of him individually -- but no pictures of them together. 

Here they are Quilla... may you always gaze into your baby's eyes like he is brand new.

Enjoy the pictures.

 - Rachel

Scratch Before Baking

Many years ago, my sweet-as-pie aunt, known for making things that tasted good and looked pretty, told me a secret to baking enviable desserts, breads, and cakes - from scratch.


"Rachel," she said as I waited eagerly to hear the secret that made her delectable sweet-and-moist-in-every-bite cornbread so delicious, "Always be sure to scratch the box before you open it. Then, follow the directions on the box."

I laughed. And for many years, I have taken her advice to heart. Tonight was no exception.

I have an extra 9 kids here this weekend, cousins, and we are having a blast! Spent the day at the lake, soaking up the sun and enjoying 80 degree water and warm sandy beach. We played Duck Duck Goose, Motorboat Motorboat, Ring Around The Rosie, Water Spider, and more... all in the water. Lots of splashing, lots of smiles, and lots of fun. But after hours of enjoying Sand Hollow, the wind began to pick up and it was time to go home to celebrate a birthday this evening.

What I really wanted to make was a Brownie and White Chocolate Strawberry Silk Torte. But with 16 hungry children, there wasn't a lot a lot of time to throw the ramen noodles in the pan, change everyone out of their swim clothes, or shower off the pound of sand brought home in my hair - let alone put together an elaborate cake, or go to the store for missing ingredients. So... I fell back on Auntie's trusted advice.

I scratched the box of the chocolate cake before I opened it, mixed it up, and threw it in the preheated oven.  And then - I grabbed the can of pink frosting floating around in my cupboard, bought as a precaution for a day like this, and (after scratching the lid, of course) opened it and whipped it up to be even fluffier and lighter than  it already was.

The four round cake pans were cooled in the freezer while I took the last remaining cup and a half of powdered sugar I could find in my pantry and made a half batch of Fudge Frosting. (This delicious concoction is the ONLY thing I made tonight that I didn't have to scratch before I pulled it out of the box.) After everything was cooled, I carefully layered the cake, strawberry frosting while my daughter looked on.

"Mom," she said.

"Yes?" I asked.

"You do realize this cake is for a BOY right?!?"

"Of course dear. Why?" I say, as I think to myself "I'm pretty sure I know whether that kid that popped out of me 12 years ago was a boy or a girl. I did change quite a few of his diapers, after all!"

"It's PINK!" she exclaimed.

And so of course, we had to cover up the beautiful pink layers of fluffy strawberry frosting sandwiched between the four layers of cake. My powdered sugar was gone, and so as I stared at my pantry trying to decide what to do, my eye rested on a box of chocolate pudding mix.

Voila! I hastily scratched the box as I ripped it open and whisked in the milk, making a thick, goopy chocolate paste that I carefully smoothed around the edges of the cake. After dumping the fudge frosting on the top and letting it drip down the rim of the cake, I stuck it in the freezer to firm up a bit more while the kids finished eating their ramen.

The result?  Fabulous. It was six inches tall, covered in chocolate, and paired perfectly with the Cookies 'N Cream ice cream that was halfway melted before we got through dishing up for all 18 kids at the party.

Happy Birthday Big T.  Love you more than you'll ever be able to comprehend.

(PS... the recipe for Sweet Cornbread is below.)

SWEET CORNBREAD RECIPE - delicious to the last crumb. 

1 box of yellow cake mix
2 small boxes or bags of cornbread mix
1/2 cup sour cream

Add the cake mix and cornbread mix together. Make as directed using ingredients for both mixes, replacing 1/2 cup of water or milk with 1/2 cup sour cream. 


Bake til golden brown and top springs back lightly. (Or at least doesn't leave an indent!)

More Pics From The Family Breakfast

 Two of the sweetest people I know! Esther always has such a fabulous "can-do" attitude. Nan is just amazing in so many ways!  Love you both!

 

Lew -- Your Mom sure misses you!

 My kids love the stories all the brothers tell about growing up!  Good times. Good to see you both!

Dustin and Nat -- I love your boys!  I am so glad we got to spend some more time with him before you moved. Miss you more than you know!!

1000 Page Views

Thanks to all my readers... I have over 1000 page views on my blog.  I'm flattered... though I still can't figure out why anyone takes time to read it! But I'm glad you do.

So, my question to you is... what would you like to see me blog about?

Lukey

These cuties are two of Ryan's nephews... both named Luke. I hadn't had the chance to meet them until a couple weeks ago at a family breakfast in Salt Lake.  Both of them are just adorable, and so much fun!  Enjoy the pics... I'll be posting more from this weekend in the days to come, I'm sure. 

This little guy has a ballplayers arm.  Watch out for him in the NFL as the star quarterback!

And this little guy is already following in his Momma's footsteps as an awesome photographer. Everytime I turned the camera sideways, he would do the same. He stood there taking pictures of me while I was taking pictures of him. 
Too cute!

 

 And here he is with Tiff... one of heaven's angels still on earth.

 Too bad my camera's not quick enough to catch this without the blur.

Two of my favorite people in the world!

 Luke's big sister Jaden and my son Taliesin were best friends when they were younger. Moving 8 hours away keeps them from seeing each other very often... but not from being best friends again as soon as they are together.  Taliesin was doing everything he could to stay out of pictures that weekend... and so this is Jade holding him down so he has to be in a picture.

Stuck!

"Will someone please get me out?!?"

The cries were coming from my 4 year old.  He sounded stressed, but not hurt.


"Will someone please get me out?!?!?"

The cries were getting a bit more frantic. At first, I thought he must have locked himself in the bathroom, but as I walked closer, I could tell they were from the kitchen instead.  What could he be stuck in?

I burst out laughing when I saw this...

Sweet Nothings...

Homemade Hostess Cupcakes. Best eaten semi-frozen. Mmmm...

Piped curlicues make them look like the ones from the store. But once you taste them, you'll never get them mixed up again :)

Homemade Hostess Layered Cake. So delicious and rich (and tall!), you can only eat a sliver at a time.

There is miraculously still a few Homemade Hostess Cupcakes and the remaining half of this beautiful Homemade Hostess Layered Cake sitting in my freezer, begging to be eaten. I made it for Amanda's birthday, and she requested I make it again for her last week so her friends could taste the cake she's been raving about. With luscious layers of moist brownies, covered with homemade chocolate ganache, and more layers of my special Homemade Hostess Cream Filling, it's quite delicious. But no, instead of indulging, I am sauteing up a pan of vegis with quinoa for a late night dinner. 

We've been at the lake with the kids and I've just changed out of my wet clothes and into a comfy top and some grey knit capris. You know the kind, with the University of Utah logo written across one side. So there I stand in front of the stove, seasoning the colorful mix of snow peas, carrots, and squash, stirring contentedly as I wait for the vegis to cook. Ryan walks up behind me, puts his arm around me, and leans his head down to my ear. "Rachel," he says, in a sultry voice. (I think he's going to whisper something sweet in my ear, like maybe how nice I looked in my bathing suit, or how delicious the pumpkin bread I baked for our treat at the lake was, or how much he loves me. Right??)

No. Not at all. Nothing of the sort.

Instead, this is what I hear.

"Rachel," he says.

"Yes?" I answer, smiling hopefully.

"Your pants are on backwards."

And then he walks away as my face turns bright red.