That Darn New Years Post, 2011

Okay, so I'm 6 days late in posting a "new years" post. So sue me.

This year has been... a roller coaster ride. That about sums it up. Ups, downs, mood shifts, medication shifts, LOTS of medical bills, debt. Me: insane, sane, insane again, insane X 2 in April, sane, insane X2 AGAIN in December.

This year, I said hello, and goodbye, to two angel babies. This year, Tamsyn turned 1, started walking, started talking, and -finally- started to have her skin cleared up. This year, Morrigan turned 3, had wonderful birthday party, learned her ABC's, outgrew her beloved 'sparkly shoes', and learned a LOT about sharing.

This year Ben helped me through what I believe is the hardest year of my life. Despite the mood swings, the depression, the mania, he has been there. Maybe not the BEST supportive, but trying, and always my anchor.

So what does 2011 bring? Well, so far, it brings sanity and stability. The medications I started a week ago have held true - so far. My house is cleaner. I am able to organize and 'pretty' up things like the bookcases. I bought candlesticks, and they are now gracing our table.

I am able to cuddle my children again. I am able to speak nicely to them instead of yelling. I am able to bake again - bread, biscuits, you name it. The fog that surrounded my head seems gone. Even the simple tasks, like turning out a light as you leave the room, are suddenly clearer.

For some this might seem trivial. For me? Life-changing. Mind-blowing. For years, here I was, thinking I was just a horribly bad person who couldn't stick to a routine - or anything - to save her life. Turns out I'm bipolar. I'm sick. But it's treatable. It can be managed. I'm not really that selfish little brat. I'm not really a money-spending fiend. I don't really hate my life or my children.

I still have moments, over the last week. Yesterday I had the itch to spend money. But instead of the hundred dollar shopping spree I USED to do, I was content with a $14 goodwill trip. Content with it. Not scrounging for quarters so I could buy-buy-buy.

Today I'm a little irritable. I blame the beers I had last night. But again, it's manageable. It's NOTHING like what it would have been.

It's amazing and I can only pray, and hope, and wish, that this is true stability and not a swing.

GF/EF/DF Sugar Cookies & Toppings

When T was 'diagnosed' with allergies, I remember a few things went through my head.

With wheat, it was "What about sandwiches?!?!?"
With dairy, it was "What about cheese!?!?!"
And, for some reason, with eggs, it was "WHAT ABOUT COOKIES!?"

It has continued to be "what about cookies?" for a year or so now. And with Christmas, things like sugar cookies, gingerbread... you name it, it's there. And she can have none of them. :( Or at least, that was my idea.

For a year or so I've been buying GF/EF/DF cookies at a whopping $5-$10 per package. INSANE. But I did it to give my baby some cookie numminess.
Until sugar cookies. Unfortunately, run of the mill grocery stores don't have pre-cut, pre-shaped christmas cookies that are GF/EF/DF. Maybe they should. Could be a market there.

I looked up some recipes for T-safe cookies, and found most of them called for random substituted ingredients that we don't have on hand (cough-xanthamgum-cough). One thing we do have on hand is Domata, a great pre-mixed flour that can (pretty much) be substituted cup for cup for regular flour in a recipe. I just haven't used it much.
So finally I kicked myself in the butt, got up, and made this recipe, substituting the Domata for the flour and corn starch for the eggs. (And for the record, I wasn't aware you COULD sub starch for eggs until now. Thanks, Mr. Google.)

The verdict: They held shape REALLY well, during cutting and baking. However, they ended up hard as rocks, to the point where the girls couldn't actually bite down on them.

I was surprised at how well Tams could use a knife, both to get the icing ON the cookies and IN her mouth.

And then Morri, including missing front tooth:

What a morning!

Whew.

The morning started with whiney, fussy babies. Both of them. Morri had a meltdown immediately because I told her we had no pears. Tamsyn couldn't get her breakfast fast enough and screamed the entire time I was making her oatmeal. Neither of them calmed down until I turned on Charlotte's Web (our new library movie) and stuck their butts in front of it with their breakfast.

After gulping down a few bites of scalding oatmeal, myself, I decided to try for a shower. Now normally I can do this in the mornings. It takes them 10-15 minutes to eat, and they are content watching a movie/show for that time. I leave the door open so I can hear them.

So, I sneak away, get under the water, start washing my hair. Halfway through, I hear a CRASH and know immediately what it is. Corelle dishes have this distinct sound when they break, mostly because they don't just break, they SHATTER. Into a million slivers and pieces. So I run out of the bathroom, hair still all sudsy, to find half a bowl of oatmeal, in pieces, on the kitchen floor, and Tamsyn standing there with a startled expression.

I herd the kids into the living room and then stop and just stare for a minute. I didn't know what to do. Barricade the kitchen and finish my shower? Soap was starting to get into my eyes. Clean it up, naked and wet, wrapped in a towel while my hair left driplets of bubbles on the floor? And how did I clean up the gooey, shattered mess, anyway??? Shop-vac? Steam cleaner?

Finally I shook myself out of my daze, put on shoes, wrapped my hair in a 2nd towel. I picked up the larger pieces by hand and put them in a tub for later disposal, then used a broken down broom to push the rest into a pile. The broom scraped up a lot of the oatmeal, too, which was nice. Then I wiped down the oatmeal spots that were left and vacuumed well.

By this time, the kids were screaming and crying, and I had to remove them from the kitchen once or twice. I was upset and considering taking an Ativan (sometimes it takes my regular meds an hour or so to kick in) and had a headache coming on.

Finally it was all cleaned up. I put them back in front of the movie and jumped back into the shower. About a minute later Tamsyn follows me in and promptly slips on the wet-from-me-running-out floor. Smack! She cries because her head hits and I have to get out, conditioner in my hair this time, find her binky, calm her down, and set her back in front of the movie.

I hit the shower, again, and quickly finished, lest there be any more disasters.

Now Tams is down for a nap and Morri is in the living room. We are woefully behind schedule. I have to pack the kids a bag, pack them a lunch, dress them, stick dinner in the crock pot, finished getting dressed myself, run a brush through my hair. All before noon.

Guess I better go get to work.

My First Beauty

I love my girls. And I don't mean the goats (although I love them too).

These girls:


These beautiful, wonderful, amazing miracles.


These dirty-faced, muddy-kneed, hay-filled hair, grass-stained hands girls.

Morrigan will be 3 this year, in July. I'm amazed. Where did my little snookums go??


And now look at her!


I refuse to believe that picture A turned into picture B. I think that baby is still around here, hiding somewhere, while this alien almost-3-year-old took over. Yup. That must have been what happened.

We've had pretty times:


"Little stinker" times:


And odd times:


(Yes, that is baby Connie.)

It's been a wild ride. I'm both excited and afraid of what the future will bring!

Kudos,
Ket