In The Merry Old Land of Oz

Oh Doctor! Oh Doctor Oz. What have you done? Why why why did you say that and in that tone and with that context, or lack thereof? Why? Because now we all have to blog about you. We all do and to be honest, like really honest, I don't want to blog about you. But now I have to. I have to put my feet on one side of the line or the other and I have a sneaking suspicion that Celiacs aren't going to like what I have to say.
Dr. Oz isn't my favorite, I could not imagine a worse fate than getting a pap smear by the yippy yappy medical man. I think his show, although having the intention of being educational, breeds a level of hypochondrial panic that I don't enjoy. If one more person starts a sentence with 'On Dr. Oz, he said....' Ugh, no thank you.
And the other day, he decided to talk about Gluten Free Diets. Bad move my friend, bad move.
So here's the deal in case anyone was wondering. Doctor Oz, went on the Seth Myers Show and publically said that a gluten free diet is total bullshit. He said 'BS' and added 'a scam' for good measure. Sigh. Now everyone is pissed off that a Doctor is calling our lifestyle bullshit. Everyone is raging about the 'Celiac Community' and now we have taken a hit. That Oz had a perfect opportunity to educate the world on Celiac disease and didn't take it, instead he threw us under the bus.

As I am typing this, I am wincing.

I agree with Doctor Oz, the GF diet IS Bullshit.

Someone just threw a rotten head of lettuce at my head and screamed 'traitor'.

I agree with him because everyone is taking this quote out of context. Seth asks Oz about new diet crazes and then specifically mentions Gluten Free diet and gives Oz two options, real deal and bullshit and Oz picked bullshit. I agree.

A gluten free diet is not a weight loss diet, I have said this again and again and again. Stop thinking that you are going to lose weight if you switch out your bread or get gluten free cereal. You won't. I also agree when Oz goes on to say that if you have a problem with Gluten, you should swap the wheat out for other options, amaranth etc. He basically implies that processed gluten free foods are full of crap. Want to know why? Because processed gluten free foods are full of crap, that's why. He's right. Back off the good doctor.
Claiming that he has somehow insulted Celiacs by saying these things is ridiculous. Stop being so sensitive. He doesn't mean Celiacs, he means anyone who thinks that cutting gluten out of their diet will change their lives. He means the people who think that it will cure their child of Autism or ADHD. He means the people who just swap out their bread for GF bread and expect to look like Jillian Michaels the next day. He means the people that start eating gluten free pasta and are under the impression that they will be smarter, more athletic and happier. Gluten isn't making you sad. You make you sad.
Oz made a point of saying that if you want to help yourself, get real foods that don't naturally contain gluten. It's like he can read my MIND!
And no, Dr. Oz's job is not to spread the word about our disease. That's your job. You have Celiacs, not Oz. So represent. Your whinging and sensitivity and bitching and moaning isn't doing a very good job. So toughen up and cut it out. Show the world that we are strong and healthy.
While I seem to be on a roll of pissing everyone off, I will continue by being offended by the fact that other bloggers have said that Oz insulted "The Celiac Community". And I ask, what community? What the hell are you talking about? We share a disease, you haven't helped me move or babysat my kids. Is there a clubhouse I am missing out on? Secret handshake? No? In addition, I don't want to be a part of a community that just goes around complaining all the time. Quit your whining.
No one has to be an advocate for you but you, everyone else is icing on the cake.

So no, Dr. Oz is not my favorite guy on TV but I think in this instance, Celiacs' are being too sensitive and need to get thicker skin.

Cheating Bastards!

I know what they are up to. Yes I do. They think I don't know. They think they have pulled the wool over my eyes. But I am on to them.

My husband Trevor and my friend Natasha have had a thing going for years. They think they've fooled me but they are wrong.

Natasha has been sneaking shortbread to Trevor every Christmas for three years now.

I attempt, every single year to make a GF Shortbread. Every year, I fail miserably. I admit it. GF shortbread fucking sucks. I have tried every different flour and guar gum and xanthum gum and prayer and voodoo tactic that I have come across and every single year it tastes like a ball of shit. Well, no, a ball of shit would stay in one piece, not shatter when you touch it like a pile of snow.

Trevor, being the loving supporting yummy man he is, eats my shortbread. He eats them without fail and without complaint. He even eats the ones I have set aside for the children. That's right, he has thrown himself on the GF sword for his love of our children. That was a tough one to figure out. It took some well placed lights, a sensitive seven year old , dental floss and a Monster High doll named Frankie Stein to get to the truth. I am not proud of the steps I have been forced to take to discover my husband's shady dealings, but I did what I had to do.

Natasha is Scottish and one of my dearest friends. She also makes the best fucking shortbread this side of the English Channel. Bitch.

Every Christmas, she sneaks a container to Trevor and he hides them and eats them when I am not looking. She even has the audacity to throw in some Scottish sausage every once in a while. Selfish bastards. Picture it, it's Christmas time, any time of day really, lets be honest, I lean in for a kiss, Trev tosses me his cheek and I know what has happened. He's been eating Natasha's wares. Dammit.

This year was not an epic fail for the GF shortbread thanks to the progression of Robin Hood Flour but short bread is one of those things that you can't just get close enough. You have to get it just right and it's impossible to get just right. Mine turned out okay, they looked a little grey though which makes them unappetizing. The shortbread was, at best, vaguely acceptable this year, and I'm being generous. Was it as good as Natasha's full of gluten shortbread? Hell No! Will my husband ever admit to this? Hell No!

The thing that I did master this Christmas season was GF Yorshire pudding. I decided to make a roast for Christmas dinner. A choice that caused my Mother to yell, "But we're Catholic!" but still agree to sit and eat. She never clarified why Catholics can't eat beef on Christmas. I doubt she even knows.

The BAD Yorkshire!

 I started trying out the Yorkshire a week before Christmas. It took about four batches and I and ended up melding about three recipes together to get the desired effect. They were good and well enjoyed. I will toss the recipe for those in the recipe section.

The GOOD Yorksire

Don't be afraid to try new things. If you have a craving for something, try it gluten free. What's the worst that could happen? You husband prefers another woman's shortbread? Small price to pay in order to feed your adventurous side. I fail at GF food ALL the time. I'm not going to say that I'm delighted when the buns come out looking like grey hockey pucks that not even the hamster would eat, because that would be a lie. It pisses me off but I keep trying and eventually succeed and I hope you do too.

 If you fail at GF anything that's okay. Pick yourself up and try again. If you are lucky, you will have a husband who is willing to lie to you (terribly) and a dear friend who is willing to reward him for his loyalty to you.

With a Grateful Heart.....

The other day, my youngest spawn asked me, "Mommy, what is your favorite holiday?" and I just smiled at her. What was I thinking? Oh for fuck sakes. That's what I was thinking. Let's look at the definition of "holiday" shall we?

Holiday:
"A day fixed by law or custom on which ordinary business is suspended in commemoration of some event. Any day of exemption from work. A time period of exemption from any requirement, duty, assessment. A period of cessation from work or one of recreation."

Every mom in the world just laughed until their kegel weak muscles leaked.

A holiday? REALLY? Where is our day off work? When do I get a stat? An exemption from duties happens.....when? Never? Oh okay. As a matter of fact, the birth of a baby over two thousand years ago means more work for us Mommas....a lot more.

I write often about not fussing with stupid shit like the details of a well decked out hall. I believe that if Mary can give birth in a crappy stable, we should stop giving a shit about ironing the napkins. If the mother of all mother's shrugged and said, "This will have to do!" then so can we.

But we can't shirk it all off now can we? We can't just throw our hands up, open a can of beans and flick on re-runs of Americas Funniest Home Videos can we? Well, we could, but that wouldn't do anyone any good now would it? Because we don't do Christmas for us, do we? We do it for them....all of them. We all have a THEM. Most of the time, they are our spawn but we also have husbands, wives, friends, families, teachers, pets and work people to DO Christmas for.

Christmas is not a "holiday" for Moms and there is no way to get around that. We can sit and be all koobayah about the whole thing and buy everyone a goat in Zimbabwe - which I am sure my Mother would love rather than the Talbots blazer. We can have the kids craft a tree out of shredded up bed sheets and decorate it with moth balls or some such garbage found on the 7th Circle of Hell also known as Pintrest. We could make Kale chips instead of cookies and give the Elf on the Shelf to some homeless guy so he can be tortured at midnight to think of something to do with the little fucker.

 BUT SOMEONE STILL HAS TO DO ALL OF THAT!

That someone is the Mom.

So how can we possibly enjoy ourselves during the most hectic and exhausting part of the year? How do we not be resentful and cranky and want to murder the lineup of people at Costco who are waiting for a free sample of something they are never going to buy? How do we stop ourselves from wanting to punch that lady in the throat who is squabbling over fifteen cents at the Department store because a Flutterby Fairy is impossible to carry at the same time as a giant package of Lego? How?

It's really quite simple, we have to be grateful. We have to train our minds to replace the anger and frustration with a spirit of gratitude. We have to, because no one else is going to and like Santa, your children are watching. If you teach your kids nothing else in this world, teach them gratitude.

This isn't as tree-huggy as you might think. I'm not telling you to go into full lotus in the middle of the Santa line at the mall and start chanting. If you want to, that's cool but know that I will totally take your spot if you slack.

It's just about training your brain to embrace your life and the people in it.

It might not be easy at first but you can do it. I know that the shopping cart is brutally heavy and I know that pushing it through a snowy parking lot feels like a Survivor challenge but try to pause, for just one moment and be grateful that such abundance exists in your life. Be grateful that you can spend a mortgage payment to feed people you love.

 I know running out for that ONE MORE THING pisses you off beyond comprehension but try to be happy that you live in a world that everything you could ever possibly want is within a ten minute drive and that you can most likely afford to buy it.

 I know that you forgot the teachers gift and now you have to pull one out of your ass at ten the night before the last day of school. Be grateful that our children have teachers and teachers that deserve a gift because they love your spawn almost as much as you do.

Try...I know it is hard, believe me I do but try to be grateful that we have SO MUCH WORK to do because we have SO MANY PEOPLE that rely on us to love them enough to do it. We Mothers are never alone for Christmas and that is something to be truly grateful for.

There is nothing so wonderful as seeing your disheveled, bleary eyed children rip open that wrapping paper at 5am. There is no feeling so precious as hearing them scream "Thank you Santa!" and you and your partner in crime smile at eachother over your Baileys and coffee. Being a mom on Christmas morning is the best thing in the world. The hours of baking and wrapping and shopping and decorating and lists upon lists upon lists are all worth it at that moment.

Don't wait for that moment to be grateful, spread it out.You did that. You did it all and if you can do it with even just a small sense of peace, you will enjoy it all much more.

More on my Gluten Free Christmas to come, I promise. But for now, just stop, breathe, know that you make the magic happen for those you love and it is worth every second.

Merry Christmas Everyone.

Now, go get drunk.

An Image for Every Body

This is going to make some of you angry and for that I apologise but I can not keep quiet any longer. This post isn't necessarily about Celiacs but it is about our bodies so that counts right?

When did being slim become a bad thing? When? Seriously?

I know your first response is; pfft Laurie! Take a look at the media and at the TV and how REVEARED all the slim women are in the world. Maybe Elle MacPhereson is worshiped, but I, a regular gal living in the world today, am not.

As a woman of slight build, I am feeling more and more assaulted in the world these days. Specifically on facebook and other social media sites. I'm not allowed to share my thoughts on a pintrest post because I don't understand what it is to be a REAL woman because I wear an A cup and size 4 pants. I think that's ridiculous.

 I am seeing more and more posts that imply because I am the size I am that, I must be shallow, selfish and unhealthy. I must work out ALL the time, implying of course that I am abandoning my children in the process or that I DON'T eat and have a problem. I assure you, this is not the case.  

Slim girls can be healthy too. Fact.

Comments I hear from people are, "you're so lucky to be skinny" or when we are shopping and I am hunting for my size I hear a lot of, "show off". Would you prefer I buy a size twelve to make you feel better? Could you buy a size six for me? You buying a DD bra makes me feel insecure, can I voice that? No?

Please note that I am talking about size and not weight. I don't weigh myself, I encourage you to avoid the scale as well.

I think scales are for meat at the butchers and boxers at the ring....no one else.

My size has varied over the years - please see the "My Fat Ass Post" on this blog. After I had my second spawn, my friend Pat came to visit to see the baby, he took one look at me and said, "I thought you pushed it out already?" Then we laughed a bunch and I gave him a beer and the baby. My size went back to my normal-ish size after a time. How much time? I don't know. I don't care and frankly, neither should you.

You are the size you are and I am the size I am and that needs to be just fine.

If it's okay for some women to have curves and hips and a little flab under their arms, why is it not okay for me NOT to?

I embrace the, every woman for every body, everyone is unique and beautiful. I completely agree that we are all our own version of a goddess, I just don't understand why slim girls can't be included in that?

Why are we the enemy?

I know my size fluctuates as EVERYONES does and that is totally fine with me. I run when the weather is nice and go to yoga when it is not. I have been known to attend combat classes and throw in an Insanity workout every once in a while.

 If I don't do these things will I panic that I will become a bigger size and therefore hate myself?  NO! I work out because I like it. I love it in fact. I love the idea that I am strong, and healthy and can do a  headstand and throw a kick ass punch. I like that about myself. I'm sorry you don't. But for the love of GOD shut the hell up about it would you?

Of course, this may change. We are at the mercy of our bodies and one day, I may be twice the size I am now. Will I be as happy? I don't know that. I love being able to beat my kids in a race, do a cartwheel and hike up the side of a mountain with them. I like having the amount of energy I do right now. Would I have this much energy if I was twice my size? Maybe. Maybe not.

What I do know is that I am thrilled with what I look like just as someone who is twice my size is happy with themselves. The implication that I am this size because I don't eat, or don't eat what I want or obsess about my size is insulting.

Don't look in my grocery cart and I won't look in yours.

I read comments about famous singers or actresses and how skinny they are. "Eat a sandwich!" they say or "She's disgusting!" And you may think that but what right do you have to say it? Why, because Taylor Swift is slim, do you have the right to mock her or assume she has an eating disorder? She might have an eating disorder, but that's none of your business. It is no more your business than it is for you to question how many bags of Oreos Rita MacNeal ate to get to the size she was. It's none of your business.

Mind your own body and I will mind mine.

Let's just let it all go. Let's stop the caddiness and the back handed comments. Instead of teaching our daughters to hate the slim lady on the cover of the magazine, let's focus on her loving herself and being lovely to those around her, no matter what.

Kindness, soulful happiness and love of yourself are what matters, not your size, or mine. Let's stop talking about how we all look and just focus on WHO we are inside. Be happy, be whatever size you want to be and let everyone else be the same.

Why Am I hungry? Seriously?

Here we are, on an airplane at 35,000 feet. I am on vacation….well, I am supposed to be on vacation. But right now, I am on the verge of tears. Ah, fuck it, I’m crying. Full on weeping and thank god I have my lap top to write it all down or I might explode. Why am I crying? Well, I’m crying because I am frustrated, I am crying because I am embarrassed, I am crying because I am angry and I am crying because I am hungry. In my 37 years upon this orb, I have yet to find another response to those emotions other than tears. Don’t you dare think that I am some weepy emotional wreck, I really cry very little. I am not a drama queen and I despise those who cannot take things in stride. I, right now, cannot take things in stride.

 I am flying to Cancun to watch one of my favorite people marry one of my other favorite people. My favorite person of all, Trev is at my side and my children are at home with another fave, my wonderfully, supportive sister. I have a glass of wine, a lap top and a week of child free relaxation ahead of me.

So you may ask, Jesus, Laurie, could you be more of a fucking whiner? What the fuck?

 Quit crying for the love of God. What could you possibly have to cry about?

I agree and am going to stop crying quite shortly. I just need sometimes to wallow in my own self-pity. And that’s okay. Okay? So, let’s break this shit down and get to the bottom of my tears shall we? Won’t this be fun? Hey? Who ever said I wasn’t good to you?

Why am I frustrated?

Because despite the fact that I booked a gluten free meal on this flight 7 months ago when we booked, I don’t have one. The lady across from me has one, some guy three rows back has one but not me! I am frustrated because I confirmed my Celiacs on more than one occasion with the airline and the travel agent and yet, I sit here starving. I am frustrated because sometimes it fucking sucks to have Celiacs while everyone around you has a hot pizza or a Montreal smoked meat sandwich.

Why am I embarrassed?

Because now the people around me have heard the word CELIACS about fifteen times. They are trying to eat their food, enjoy the movie and start their liquor fueled vacation. Instead, they have heard me tell now, four flight attendants that I have Celiacs and need a gluten free meal. They heard me confirm with the flight attendant BEFORE TAKE OFF that I needed a GF meal, they heard me ask about it when the lady across the row got a GF meal, they watched as the flight attendants all stood around our row humming and hawing about who was going to give me the bad news and they had to watch my face as they tried to hand me a banana on a tray, as my gluten free meal. I’m not even REMOTELY exaggerating. They put a browning banana on a tray and tried to hand it to me like it didn’t see three other people get a cute little airplane box full of a “meal”. Now, the poor suckers in rows 15,16 and 17 are listening to me cry. I am embarrassed. The lead flight attendant has been loud and verbal and everyone from rows 6-10 knows that I have Celiacs. I don’t like making a big deal about my Celiacs. I beg of you, notice me for my cute shoes, my pretty face, my funny lines, my writing, my hair, my random 30 second dance parties, my need to tuck in the shirt tags of strangers…. but DON’T notice me for my Celiacs. EVER.

Why am I angry?

Because I asked and asked and asked and the flight attendants tried to pass off a banana on a tray as a “meal”. I am angry because they didn’t acknowledge me, they just shrugged from one to another, each of them avoiding the fact that I CAN SEE THEM and their awkward whisperings to each other about my lack of meal. I am angry because when the lead flight attendant came up to talk to me she shrugged at me and said, “I have nothing for you. The GF meal isn’t even that good.” And then when I refused the brown banana replied like I was a petulant toddler, “Oh so now you aren’t going to eat anything?” I am especially angry because when she shrugged and said loudly, “there is nothing I can do.” I had to reply, “You could apologise.” And she muttered, “I apologise.”

 I am angry because I did my part. I fulfilled my part of this bargain. I checked with the travel agent three times, I confirmed on the phone yesterday and I confirmed with the flight attendant before we took off. I am angry that no one else has to hold up their end of the bargain and its okay.

I am angry at myself for falling for it all. I should have known better. I should have brought something. Things like this have happened to me before and yet when the travel agent told me I was going to get a GF meal on the airplane I giggled in glee and shivered in the indulgence of it all. I fucking fell for it and I, of all people, know better. I just wanted it to go so well, I wanted it all to be so nice and worry free and yet, here I am, hungry, angry and frustrated and no one can do one thing about it.

Why am I hungry?

Seriously? You have to ask?

One flight attendant did stop and sincerely say, “Ma’am, please let me get you something to drink. What can I get you to make it better? I really am so sorry, I would be upset too if I were you.”

And I thanked her for saying that because if the “LEAD” flight attendant had said that, I would have thanked her for her honestly and moved on.

I hope that the resort does a better job.

Okay – so the resort did do a much better job. I had fantastic meals and lots of Gluten Free love. Of course, I was also three sheets to the wind by noon so they might have just fed me lay chips and pickles at every meal and I’m not sure I would have noticed.  I shall blog more about this when someone fills me in on the details.

I had a fantastic time and, despite conversations with three Sun Wing reps, did NOT get a gluten free meal on the return flight....shocker

Thirty Ways To Know A Celiac

1) More people have discussed your digestion, abdomen and poop than you ever thought possible

2) You have the grocery budget of Donald Trump

3) Someone has told you that GF bread is available at the store. You act shocked and laugh behind your hands.

4) Someone has told you that they can make a perfect GF bread that tastes just like Olive Garden Breadsticks. You act shocked and laugh behind your hands

5) The sight of a countertop littered with breadcrumbs elicits a fear response in you akin to a peek into Jeffery Dahmer's freezer

6) You have physically restrained yourself from sucker punching the jerk at the table that vocally talks about how his stupid sister is a 'celiac' now and how the whole thing is made up

7) You fart....a lot

8) You can fart with a stealth that is awe inspiring. You can blame your actions on the closest baby/ old person/ dog with a straight face

9) You have had to explain seven million times WHAT  gluten is and WHAT it does to your body. You say the word 'villi' more times than your gastroenterologist does.

10) You try to explain your disease in the broadest of terms and yet have always had to go into horrid detail at a  baby shower because people won't let it go

11) If a server shrugs at you while you are trying to talk about your Celiacs, you want to deliver a karate slice a la Jackie Chan to their throat.

12) You believe that when your intestines are threatened, that you have the skills of Jackie Chan

13) You have at least fifteen people in your life who think they have Celiacs

14) People tell you all the time how much your bread looks and tastes like crap....while you are eating it

15) You have had the corn pasta vs rice pasta debate for hours. Usually with someone who hasn't had either.

16) You have been unexpectedly poisoned and have secret codes that you have developed with your spouse and friends to communicate that you have to get home before you start moaning like livestock

17) Everyone and their dog have told you what you can and can not eat

18) You have someone in your life who simply, no matter how many times you explain, do not understand what you can and can not eat. These people ask questions like 'are carrots gluten free?'

19) These same people might think that they can pass their gluten on to you like it lives in them. They say 'I washed my hands before I touched your chair.' You stop yourself from yelling, 'It's not HEP C it's GLUTEN!"

20) You dream of sourdough bread every once in a while.

21) You can't remember the last time that you ate at a buffet. You aren't upset at this.

22) You have lied about things that contain gluten in an effort to not eat stuff you hate. "Well, um, aspic salad could have gluten in it. Sorry."

23) You have had some of the most epic baking fails in the history of man kind. You wear these like purple hearts.

24) You nod and smile at the acquaintance who has cut out wheat from their diet in an effort to lose weight/ be smarter/ have a baby/ join the navy.

25) You don't kick these people in the privates when they moan to you about how hard it is for them to stay away from ice cream sandwiches, as they eat a fistful of Ritz Crackers.

26) Dirty Utensils terrify you

27) You have two toasters

28) You bring food with you EVERYWHERE. You have had bread shipped to another country so it is there for your arrival. This costs you a great deal of money. You don't care. See number 2.

29) You feel stronger and brighter and cleaner than you did before your diagnosis. You can not explain this to people. When you do, they resent you and promptly cut gluten from their diets.

30) You are proud of yourself and your loved ones for embracing this disease and not being afraid to try new things. Every day you do not get poisoned is another day of health and vitality and a vote towards a bright and shining life.