Clara Donuts

For awhile now I’ve been meaning to write about Clara and her food issues but it’s not that fun of a story.

It involves too many bad bodily functions and lots of crying.

Lots of crying.

In summary I shall say this:

Clara has a pile of food sensitivities,  she has had them her entire life and we are still working on figuring things out.

Perhaps we can get into the gory details of how we  found all of that out later but I’m not up to that post tonight.

Since Clara has always had issues with food, she’s always had to avoid foods and eat differently from others.  While it’s been difficult, Clara has known for a very long time that she can’t have anything with dairy in it and now accepts that some foods will hurt her belly. When faced with such a food she doesn’t cry or scream or pout.  She just asks, “Me smell?” and so long as you let her smell the forbidden food,  she’s happy.

It’s completely heartbreaking.

It’s also caused us to re-name many things to make it easier for her to tell what she can and can not have.

We have butter and we have “Clara butter.”

We have cheese and “Clara cheese.”

We have raisins and “Clara raisins”

We have sugar and “Clara sugar.”

We have oatmeal and “Clara oatmeal.”

Creative aren’t we?

Most of our diet has changed to comply with what Clara can and can not tolerate, and because of it we’ve been eating very healthy. Lean meat, veggies, whole grains – we’ve got them.   Of course we are only human, so Ivy, John and I gleefully scarf down Clara unfriendly food whenever we get a chance.

And it bothers me.

It bothers me that I have to tell Clara that she can’t eat foods. It bothers me that the rest of us sneak food when she isn’t paying attention. It bothers me that we sometimes eat different food at dinner than she does. It bothers me that she misses out on the snack at story time. It bothers me that I should be grateful that she (and we) are eating so healthy but that I’m just resentful of the restrictions on my cooking. It bothers me that we have to skip doing things with people so we can be home for meals. It bothers me that I can’t magic her problem away. It bothers me when we mess up reading ingredients and she pays for it.  And it bothers me every time she says “Me smell?” and insists that I eat the food instead.

The benefits have outweighed all of the problems in planning our meals and life around her current restrictions.  Even my own emotions, that seem to have firmly attached themselves to the issue, are nothing compared to the improvement we’ve seen in Clara. She is a different girl than she used to be – a much happier one, and so we carry on with the crazy diet.

But it’s still not easy.

This week  Ivy was leaving to play at a friends house. (You know, one of those things that could be called a “play date” but I refuse to call it such because the term irritates me all to pieces… but that’s a different story).  Clara was very sad that Ivy was leaving and so I promised her that we could make a treat once Ivy  was gone. Without hesitation I was informed that she wanted “Clara donuts.”

A little recipe sleuthing and I discovered that donuts have nothing in them Clara can have, but we went to the kitchen and started substituting.

Clara flour, Clara sugar, Clara butter, Clara eggs… I think the only thing I didn’t substitute out was the baking powder and the nutmeg.

I had dumped the dough out and was dubiously staring at the brownish mass I was supposedly making into donuts when Clara looked up from her beater licking and said:

“OOOO! That good!”

She was right. We had successfully made a treat for Clara that I didn’t have to worry about her eating and that she was loving.  It was better than good.  It was great. And the donuts weren’t bad either!

Good News… Bad news…

It’s the second day of being home alone with the kids while John is at work.

The good news is everyone is still alive.

The bad news is that two of the three kids seem to have the flu and the third is now complaining too.

The good news is that they are all currently sleeping.

The bad news is it’s not going to last much longer.

The good news is I have a Diet Coke and a Milky Way bar.

The bad news is it doesn’t have caffeine in it… or whiskey.

Through the keyhole.

Transformation

Jane undergoes a drastic transformation when you give her a bath.

She goes from a sleepy, stinky, cutie…

…into a sweet smelling, wide eyed, curly haired, cutie!If it weren’t for the prevailing cuteness I’d wonder if it was the same girl.

Camp Out

It’s possible that a combination of the new baby, the unfavorable weather and general life with the almost five and two year old have brought John and I to the end of our patience… and sanity.

Possible.

Really possible.

Today John came up with the brilliant idea that he and the girls were going camping. Chores were done in the morning, their room was cleaned and in the afternoon we erected our tent in their room. Once John convinced Ivy that they were playing camping and not “You be the prince I’ll be the princess” we had a fun afternoon. There was “sleeping” and playing in the tent, fishing down the stairwell. (Ivy caught a musky, John caught a tiny blue gill  and Clara caught a “gill” but she said it was no good and she threw it in the garbage… or so I heard.) Then John and Ivy cooked baked potatoes and hot dogs in the wood-stove for our camp dinner.  In general it was an afternoon of fun, lots of sanity saving fun.

Then tucked in their new sleeping bags, flashlights beaming, the girls  were ready for their exciting night of camping out… …for about five minutes.

Then Ivy tearfully hollered that she wanted to sleep in her bed…

… and Clara didn’t, but nobody wanted to be lonely, but everyone needed water, and Clara needed Chap Stick, and it was too dark, and, and, and….

Ahh camping…sanity.. patience… they were good while they lasted.

Sisterly Love

So far Jane’s older sisters have been happy to have her around.

Even Ivy who had been hoping for a brother and has asked multiple times about when she can have a brother she is still happy to help out with her new sister.  Ivy’s been a great helper when it comes to getting things Jane needs, things Mom or Dad need – that’s a different story…   And after a hesitant first day or two she now wants to hold Jane every chance she gets while she sings her “sleeping songs just in case she’s tired.”

Clara, is more in the smothering with love stage.  Jane gets blankets, toys, books, hats, and pacifiers shoved into her mouth whether she wants them or not.  So long as you’re ready to protect Jane from sharp edges and outright smothering under blankets and stuffed animals Clara’s attentions are pretty cute. This morning though John came in to find Clara crying on the floor next to Jane and I. When he asked what was the matter, Clara tearfully repeated her request that I had been denying:

“Me poke baby Jane eye please!”

At least she said please.

Welcome Jane Catherine Stevens!

Our biggest Christmas present came a bit early this year.

Jane was born at 1:50Am on the 23rd.  Like our other two girls she was born at the Madison Birth Center, unlike the other two she came too quickly for a water birth –  a problem I will not be complaining about!  She weighed 8lbs 3oz, was 19inches long and is sporting a full head of blond hair.  Jane and I are doing well, her big sisters are in Pewaukee “helping” with the final Christmas preparations and John is doing OK too. He had a moment this morning where he put cat food in the soap dispenser for the washing machine but after a few more cups of coffee he’s back to taking great care of  all his girls!

Have a Merry Christmas!

Naughty or Nice?

Ivy has been having a rough few days. I’m not sure if she’s got a bit of the virus that’s going around,  if she’s over excited, or if she’s just turning into a monster. Whatever is happening I’ve yet to figure out why it’s happening or how best to deal with it which has resulted in a trying few days for everyone.

Today I got desperate and brought Santa Clause into the conversation. We had a little chat about what happens if you are nice and and what happens if you are naughty. It was mentioned that with her current behavior Santa would only bring coal and rocks and sticks for her stocking. Ivy was quite for a moment and then said: “That’s OK if Santa brings me sticks I can play with Storm with them!”

I need a new plan.

Where Mom, Where?

Clara has always been very concerned about where people are. It’s not unusual for us to run though a long list of family and friends throughout the day identifying who is at work, home or elsewhere.  If those people have dogs we have to do a run down of those too. Tonight we picked up our friend Jessie’s dog Finley and that started Clara off.

Where Jessie Mom?

Where Cooper Mom? (Jessie’s other dog)

Where Ivy Mom?

Where Dad Mom?

Where Piper Mom?

Where Storm Mom?

Where Trip Mom?

Where rat go Mom?

-Wait what?! How did a rat get in the list of family pets?!!? Well, as much as I would like to feign ignorance of our rodent issues, Christmas is coming and if Santa isn’t a fan of pouting and crying I’m thinking I better not lie either…

A few weeks ago I heard rodent noises under the kitchen sink, I opened the cupboard but didn’t see anything other than un-tripped empty mouse and rat traps. Then I heard rustling in the drawers next to the sink. Irritated that a mouse was boldly rummaging around when I was right there I opened and slammed shut multiple drawers in some odd misguided attempt to either scare it away or squish it.  Instead a giant rat leaped out and almost landed on my feet. What followed I’m ashamed to admit was that girly scream that I seem to reserve just for rats – which then caused chaos to break out in the house. Clara stood up on her kitchen chair at the table and start crying, the rat disappeared,  Piper tried to knock down the pet gate into the kitchen to follow it and John yelled down from upstairs wondering if everyone was OK.

In my defense I had bare toes.

Anyways, I’m not surprised that Clara is still talking about the rat.

Clara -” Where rat go Mom?”

Me- “I don’t know where do you think it went?”

Clara- “Pantry…. You shoot rat in pantry Mom?”

Me- “No. We don’t shoot things in the house.”

Clara- “Uncle Tyler shoot rat Mom?”

Me- “Not in the house.”

Clara- “Where Uncle Tyler Mom?”

Me- “At his house.”

Clara – “He cut up deer Mom?”

Me – (shit)

Fortunately I was able to derail Clara from rats and cutting up deer by talking about Uncle Tyler’s truck he was fixing. Now if I could just keep her from ending every sentence with “Mom” I’d really be getting somewhere!