Tonight while leaving Taco Tico a minivan barreled into the stall about three or four down from our truck and out rushed–and I mean RUSHED–oodles of kids.  At first it made me think of a clown car, like, how many skinny teenagers can you fit into one Kia Sedona?  Then I realized they were a youth group on a mission, and almost as quickly as I said “NO” to my husband in anticipation of the youths’ question, they cornered him.  The request came spilling out of one boy’s mouth, as if he thought that asking it really fast would make us say yes.  Or maybe he was just crunched for time.  Or both.   “Uh, sir?  We’re on a scavenger hunt and can we take a picture with your baby?”  Shannon looked at me with his half-grimaced mouth, tilted his head and half-nodded back at them before grunting, “Sure,” followed by a quick, “Who has the strongest arms?  WHO IS NOT GOING TO DROP MY BABY?”  He muffled the sternness with a small laugh, but I knew better.  Some tall kid took Daphne, she looked at him with her half-open mouth and surprised face, they took the picture, said a million thank-yous, scrunched themselves back into that minivan and drove away.

On the way home Hubby said that Daphne kept that look of surprise on her face most of the way home, still unable to figure out what had just happened and why her parents had let her be held by some skinny kid with curly hair (I think the curly-haired kid is the one who held her.  It’s all a blur, really.).

About thirty minutes later I was in the kitchen while Hubby and Daphne were in the living room when someone knocked on our front door.  I ignored it, but they knocked again.  Hubby answered the door to another team of skinny teenagers.  “Uh, sir?  Do you have a dog?  And can we take the dog on a walk?  We’re on a scavenger hunt.”

Hubby saw the gang of energized youth, heard the word dog, said “Yeah” and headed toward the back of the house to get Molly before he’d even finished asking.  Hubby and I looked at each other as he walked by, smirked and raised our eyebrows.  Daphne made it to the front door to find the cause of the commotion.  One of them pointed at her and looked to someone in the back of the group, “Look!  A baby!”  As in: too bad we didn’t stop at this house first because we could have marked two items off the list at one time!  A baby and a dog in the SAME PHOTO!

Hubby opened the back door for Molly and she RAN to the front door.  Somehow she knew the people on our porch were going to be sweet to her, cuz she promptly laid on her back and let them rub her tummy as someone else took the picture.  Then the youth were off!

And whoever won needs to give us a cut of the prize because we did two groups a solid tonight.  I’m also hoping Daphne accidentally ended up in the corner of the picture with Molly and that an observant kid got extra points for noticing.

In July or August I dealt with a persistent nausea that would ebb and flow throughout the day; sometimes I felt like I’d be soon hunched over the toilet (luckily I never got to that point) but other times I forgot about it when I was busy moving around, even though the nausea was always there.  Always.

I started hunting around on the internet and found that I may have a sensitivity to gluten.  By no means do I have very many symptoms on the list of gluten intolerance, but I was dealing with nausea, abdominal pain and cramping, headaches and migraines, and swollen hands and feet.  I thought I’d give it a try, because after a week if it hadn’t worked then I’d be no worse off than before but at least I would have eliminated what WASN’T the problem.

So for a week and a half I ate eggs and fruit for breakfast, salads with chicken at lunch, nuts and dark chocolate for my snack (THANK GOODNESS you can find chocolate that does not contain gluten), and a protein-filled dinner.  You guys, in 11 days I lost 11 pounds.  In no way did I lose fat in that time, but I’m pretty sure I lost 11 pounds of water that my body clung to but did not need.  My upset stomach went away, as did the headaches and swollen extremities.  Because my blood sugar stayed regulated and didn’t dip so low I wasn’t as cranky in the afternoon.  Steering clear of bread made my body happier.

But giving up wheat meant that I couldn’t have my old-fashioned oats at breakfast, my very healthy whole grain bread at lunch, or a baked desserts after dinner.  And that’s why I only stayed totally gluten-free for 11 days.  Because wheat is yummy.

But now I’m back to feeling like I did in the latter part of the summer: I’m constantly nauseous, my rings won’t fit because my hands are so swollen, I have a dull headache that threatens to explode throughout the day.

I hate feeling this way.  And in order to not feel this way I need to eliminate the gluten, but that is hard people.  Aside from the yumminess factor, it is just so dang convenient.  Last night my family ate sandwiches and I ate my lunchmeat rolled up around spinach and honey mustard.  LAME.  At lunch today Daphne and I ate chicken and hummus, but we had to eat those separately, because without spooning the hummus and chicken out with flatbread, how do you do it?  LAME.

I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I have to fully commit to this and will have to buy gluten-free cookbooks.  The internet only got me so far.  And I’m considering very expensive meal-replacement powders because they’re healthy and will make at least one meal easier during the day.

So, if I find delicious meals I’ll pass them along to you.  And if any of you have limited your gluten intake, I’d love to hear how you do it without spending a ton of money.

In Saturday’s column I mentioned that somewhere an easy solution exists to our morning troubles but right now the answer continues to allude [edit: elude me.  why did nobody yell at me over this?  sometimes you're allowed to call me out.] me.  For the past two school mornings I’ve let them watch the clock; they know what time breakfast needs to be over and what time we need to walk out the door.  Friday we were early to school but today they were late.  My husband is worried that they’ll get used to being late and it will no longer be an issue, but right now I don’t care.  I’m tackling one obstacle at a time and the current obstacle is trying not to gripe at my children while they’re griping at each other.  I just want everyone to be serene on the way out the door.  Shiny and happy would be extra nice.

Here’s Saturday’s column, where I tell you about my solution–that really can only happen once in a very rare while–to the morning frustrations: playing hooky.

Hubby is out with his friends, “out” meaning hanging at our friends’ house (sans wives, of course) to watch a new 3-D TV.  The boys get together at night, without spouses or children, and the girls get together during the day, without husbands but WITH children.  And when the boys go out at night without the kids, we still have the kids.  I’m not complaining because the husbands are good about letting us girls go out together at night, but we never do.  The last time was maybe February or March?  So basically never.  Again, I’m not stomping my foot and pouting “That’s not fair,” just saying maybe us girls should change it up sometimes. [edit: Of course, they are at Mr. Y's house while his kids are upstairs, but I'm betting MRS. Y is the one taking care of the kiddos as they wake up and need a drink of water.]

So I made chocolate mug cake, topped it with ice cream and walnuts, and watched “Harold and Maude.”  Now, that movie has been on our Netflix queue for quite a while, probably even before I went out with my girlfriends sans children (Which, now that I think about it, has been well over a year.  One of us keeps having a nursing baby that we have to bring along.), but I’ve never watched it.  I’ve always been too worried about the creepy factor.  Just how far would they push the romance of a young (college age?) boy and a 79-year-old woman?  There were some creepy parts, but I think for the most part it was a sweet movie.  In case you ever decide to watch it, let me know, and I’ll warn you about the parts you should skip through.

Now I’m googling pictures of Alexa Chung because I want to copy her wavy messy hair.  If you look at my most-used board on Pinterest you’ll see lots and lots of bobs, as in haircuts.  Bob haircuts.  And they all look pretty much the same.  I just want my haircut to not look like the hair of a 30-year-old mom who gave up, you know?  So I’ve been staring at people’s hair and trying to decide how to make mine match theirs.  Once, after our weekly date at the bakery (with kids, of course), I came home and cut swoopy bangs to look like Chrissa’s.  But my hair still doesn’t look like hers.  Hers is shinier and try as I might, I cannot get my double-processed, bleached hair to shine like hers.  I’d like to do the blunt bangs of Ellen Barkin or Scarlett Johansson or Katie Holmes, but that’s scary.  Jayme cut them on her long hair and I can’t wait to see them.  Anyway, Alexa Chung has blunt bangs, so I’ve been looking at the pictures that some people creepier than me have put on their blogs that are totally devoted to her.

Every time I hear Arcade Fire’s “Wake Up” I think of Estella from Great Expectations and I’m sad for her.  Then I want to read more Dickens.  Have you guys read Great Expectations yet?  Do.  It is such a wonderful book.  If you’re not laughing out loud in the first chapter then put it down, get yourself a cup of coffee and a clear head, then sit down and try it again.  If you’re still not laughing out loud in the first chapter then you’re reading it wrong.  That’s okay, because I did the first time, too.  But Dickens is so incredible at making you laugh while feeling the fear of a six-year-old boy all at once.  Then you grow up with Pip and love him and you love Joe and that whole world and then, 496 pages later it’s suddenly finished and you have to find another book that will be as satisfying to spend your time on.  Probably I should try Oliver Twist or A Christmas Carol but I fear it’s too late in the Christmas season for the latter and I don’t want to be sad with the previous.

Speaking of Joe Gargery, let’s name some of our favorite characters from literature.  Off the top of my head: Joe Gargery from Great Expectations, John Jarndyce from Bleak House (I’ve never read the book but did see the BBC Miniseries with the adorable Carey Mulligan, and I love John Jarndyce)(also, Bleak House is another Dickens novel, so of course I’d love it if I read it), and John Ames from Gilead.  Now, my favorites are stacked with characters from books I’ve just read, but I think it goes along with the fact that I refuse to read anything that’s not encouraging.  I want to have the love and forgiveness these characters have.  Also, I love the narrator in Sonny’s Blues.  Not that he’s as altruistic as the others, but that short story has been one of my favorites since I discovered short stories, so I should probably name him as a favorite character in literature.

Who is your favorite person from the Bible?  You are not allowed to say Jesus.  Mine is Peter because that man was a mess.  He was impulsive and lost his faith as quickly as he got it, spoke out of turn and was heartily reprimanded but still stayed close to Jesus, denied his Lord three times during his precious friend’s greatest need, and yet Jesus built His church upon him.  Through all his weakness he loved Jesus.  Really, really, really loved Him.  I can get behind that.  Paul is too sure of himself; that is nothing like me.  I think if we hung out he would look at me sideways and call me out on my stuff.  Daniel would be interesting.  He was a smarty and I admire his resolve.

[Another edit, for you guys who are up at 11:08 on a Saturday night and reading my blog as quickly as it posts: that guy from Cracked appears to have been totally right about the next Batman.  Behold.]

Okay, I’m going to wrap it up now.  I’m going to re-read Sonny’s Blues and continue listening to the “erin’s faves” playlist on our iTunes.  You guys have a good night.

We rarely eat this well.

steak: courtesy of grandma & papa

marinade: 1/2 c. soy sauce, 1/2 c. honey, 2 T. vinegar, 1/4 t. ground ginger, 1/2 t. garlic powder, 1/2 c. olive oil

onion strings: pioneer woman’s recipe (i found the recipe in the book my sweet friend jessi bought me for my birthday.  she even had it signed for me.)

sweet potatoes: with lots and lots of cinnamon

green beans: something needs to aid in the digestion of all that red meat

One time, when we were eating a delicious meal of salmon, I told Hubby that I have to control myself.  Part of me wants to stuff the delicious-ness in my mouth as fast as possible but I hate looking at the soonly empty plate and wishing for more.  So I force myself to take small bites, put my fork down in between, and enjoy the meal.

My husband looked at me, probably with a mouth full of food, and said “I don’t have that problem.”  He of the It’s Better To Inhale My Food camp.

That story has no point, other than last night I had to remind myself again to eat slowly and enjoy each bite.  Usually hurrying through a meal doesn’t matter.  But when you have a delicious cut of free steak on your plate,  you want to savor it.  The last time we ate steak that delicious was at my parent’s house a few months ago and I almost cried from the sheer joy that night as well.

Casually eating her seconds of steak.

Post-steak entertainment.

Things I don’t want to forget:

• At dinner the other night I was telling my family about this MONSTER fountain drink you can get from the Presto station for only $.99.  The kids were like, “Get it!” And I was like, “Not without Daddy, cuz there’s no way I could drink that much pop.”  Gideon said, “I could!  And Mia could, too!  Come on, Mommy, you can buy it for us.  It’d only be one dollar and ninety-eight cents.”  (Emphasis mine.)  I looked at Hubby as he looked at me with a shushing hand movement.  After dinner he said that he refused to be astounded by him anymore.
• After we got up from dinner, Hubby and Daphne played in the living room when she took a tiny tea cup and gave some to her baby, because she loves to share her food with those she loves.
• A couple days later Mia didn’t come down from her bedroom after she woke up.  Usually she sits on the couch and stares at the TV as her body slowly adjusts to no longer being unconscious.  That morning she blasted tunes from her re-discovered bedroom CD player.

Last night Mia made herself a notepad out of paper and glue, then came into the living room and asked me what I’d like to order.  One of her favorite games is “Server.”  Tea and salad, please!  And make it fast!  Cuz I like to treat her just as I treat the servers in real restaurants.

Three hours later, after a trip to the park and some dinner, she gave me these:

My tea:

With a cherry on top. I promise our tea glasses aren't this fancy.

And my salad:

Much prettier than the salads I make.

Each individual piece was cut, colored and then glued together.  So on the martini tea, the stem was separate from the base which was separate from the bowl and the cherry.  Then each piece of lettuce was cut out, colored, and glued to the bowl, then the grapes and tomatoes were glued on top.  Now, Hubby did draw the carrot, but the rest of it I’m just amazed by.

I can’t wait to see where her love for art takes her.

Daphne steals my bananas.  Just now I was sitting at the computer eating one and she looked at me with those big brown eyes, stretched out her arm, opened and closed her hand until I gave it to her and she toddled off.  She is eating my breakfast.  She’s already had her breakfast but she always wants more.

From now on I’ll have to hide behind the fridge and quickly eat my bananas so that she doesn’t try to steal anymore from me.  I mean, I’m used to doing that with the sweet treats, I just didn’t know I’d have to do it with the healthy stuff, too.

Friday night I made pumpkin cookies, the same pumpkin cookies I’d made a few nights earlier when Hayley came over for me to cut her hair.  What do cookies and hair have to do with each other?, you ask.  Well, I fed her dinner before I cut her hair, and every good dinner needs a dessert.  I’m sweet like that.

Gideon had been asking for pumpkin cookies since he first saw the pumpkins outside of Dillons.  Sweet little thing!  He thought I could take one of those pumpkins and make delicious cookies out of them.  As if I have any idea how to–or the patience to–mess with a pumpkin and turn it into the stuff that comes in the can, ready for me to turn and dump into a bowl.  I do know that those pumpkins outside of Dillons are for carving, but that’s as far as my pumpkin knowledge goes.

Anyway, in preparation for dinner with Hayley I planned to make some pumpkin chocolate chip cookies that we made last year and are super delicious.  So delicious, in fact, that I gave myself a tummy ache after eating too many of them in one morning and haven’t made them since.  But my self-control and I had a talk, we decided we’d come a long way in this last year and could now handle just a few of those bits of gooey goodness, so we should make them for Gideon.  He is really cute after all.

But I couldn’t find the recipe in my recipe folder, I couldn’t remember exactly which blog I’d found them on last year, so after a bit of internet-hunting I found this recipe: Healthy Pumpkin Cookies That Don’t Taste Healthy.  And it’s true.  They really don’t taste healthy.  They don’t have as much sugar as a typical cookie, but I think they could do with even less.  Next time I’ll probably knock the white stuff down to 1/2 cup.

So back to the original sentiment of this post: Friday night I made pumpkin cookies, because Sunday was my turn to bring treats to Sunday School.  Usually I bring donuts, but this time I wanted to welcome fall with my class and bring them some homemade yumminess.  Saturday we were going to be in Hubby’s hometown for his 20th High School Reunion, so I made a double portion of the dough Friday night (my class needed the goodness but so did the peeps who live in my house), cooked some up and then left the rest in the fridge til Sunday.  Look at me planning ahead!  That never happens.

Sunday morning I got up, showered, got the kids up and fed them breakfast.  Every thing was moving smoothly and little cartoon birds were singing on our kitchen windowsill.  The benefits of planning ahead and not stressing.  I put the first batch of cookies in the oven, took them out 11 minutes later and only after transferring all of them from the cookie sheet to the plates to cool did I realize they were an ooey mess.  They’re already soft fully baked, so underdone is not a nice soft cookie, but a gooey-ness that needs a fork to be eaten.  Would not have worked for my Sunday School class.

So on the way to church we stopped at Dillons and bought donuts.  But I bought the fancy ones with frosting and sprinkles instead of the boring glazed I always buy.  After the planning ahead I still brought donuts and was late, to boot.   So now we’ll be eating pumpkin cookies at our house for a while.  At least they’re healthy.

I wasn’t really gone, but this blog was angry with me and wouldn’t let me type in the body of the post.  So I let it cool off for a week or two, Bloggy realized it wanted me back, and now I’m posting again!  Oh happy day.

Saturday night Neighbor Boy’s mom sent me a text asking if Gideon* would like to go to Spy Kids 4 because she was volunteering at our local theatre that night.

My first thought: No, we’d just had a movie night at Gideon and Mia’s school the night before and Gideon didn’t need to watch two movies in two nights.  But then I came back to myself, realized it’s no big deal for him to watch two movies in two days because he’s watched more than that before and will certainly do it again.  PLUS, he’d get to go behind-the-scenes at our movie theatre.  New experience bonus.

My second thought: Mia needed to go, too.  Neighbor Boy considers Gideon his better friend, but it’s always Neighbor Boy, Gideon and Mia who play together and Mia WOULD NOT appreciate her best friend going to a movie with her neighbor friend while she sat at home.  Understandably so.  Neighbor Boy’s mom agreed and voila!  Hubby and I had a date night.

It’s funny that after having two kids interrupt dinner conversations with, “Who’s that?” and “What happened?” and “Huh? I don’t understand” WHEN YOU’RE NOT EVEN TALKING DIRECTLY TO THEM that a dinner out with just a baby who you can say things like sex!–just because–without big eyes asking “What does that mean?” even when said dinner out is the Dillon’s Salad Bar in Andover.

Now, Hubby and I used to LOVE buffets.  For our honeymoon we went to Vegas and found the Pharaoh’s Feast Buffet in the basement of our hotel.  After paying we practically ran to the food.  Aisles of delicious-ness.  Hubby still loves buffets.  I loved that buffet in Vegas.  But questionable food that’s been under warmers since yesterday afternoon (a la the old Panda Buffet here in town) does not make my heart sing.

Saturday night I almost ran to the salad bar at Dillons.  All of it looked so yummy that night.  I actually vacillated on whether to get the once-through for $4.99/pound or the all-you-can-eat for $6.99.  Friends, never go the $4.99 route.  All the chicken and strawberries and blueberries you put on your plate will put you over that one-pound mark.  Then the mousse you get for dessert with the strawberries and blueberries dipped in it… yum.  I want to go back.

After dinner Hubby and I came home, put the baby to bed, then I picked up Gideon and Mia from the movie, where they’ve talked about butt-bombs ever since, sprinkled with talk of a superhero baby throwing poopy diapers at a bad guy’s head.

Too bad they didn’t pick up on more of the family-is-important theme I’m sure was in there.  I’ll work on drawing that from their memory of the movie as we eat our next buffet dinner.

*Yes!  I’m usually their real names.  I figure most of you know us in real life, anyway.  Although I will keep Hubby’s name safe.  A fun Erin’s Little Corner mystery, if you will.