Wednesday I cheated on this little gluten experiment. The
first time was entirely accidental. The second was entirely deliberate.
Let me elaborate…
I was up most of Tuesday night texting with my sister in
law, who had gone into labor quite unexpectedly (and early). When it became
apparent around 4 AM that I would be needed to watch my sweet niece the following
morning I promptly turned my phone down (reflex) and fell asleep. Oops.
At 6:30 Roy’s phone started buzzing and I awoke with a
start, grabbed my phone, and realized I was already behind schedule. We threw
the boys into the car and drove across the city, arriving, thankfully, in
enough time to relieve Uncle Lucas. The morning started with a bang, and it
didn’t slow down.
Watching a 4 year old, a 2 year old, a 1 year old, and a
freshly neutered puppy is a big job for anyone. Doing it on 3 hours of sleep
added to the adventure for sure! By the time lunch rolled around I was just trying
to keep everything straight…
“OK, James and Abby can have baby carrots but Owen doesn’t
have enough teeth. James wants a whole PB and J, Abby wants half. Abby wants canned corn...mmmm, don't know where a can opener is. Owen can’t
have PB. The dog gets one scoop of food. Does anybody want chicken pot pie?
Everybody says no. Everybody can have a cheese stick. James says he doesn’t
want a cheese stick. I should cut it up for Owen. I’m starving. Wait, don’t
give Owen the carrots…”
I threw some leftovers I found in the fridge in the
microwave and hastily retrieved the bowl after the kids (and Jack) were served.
I absentmindedly shoveled pot pie into my mouth hungrily for a couple of
minutes, then looked at the bowl more carefully.
“This has a crust you idiot.”
…
“Oh well.”
And then I ate the rest. It was really good, and I was
too tired to find something else to eat.
I’m happy to report that all survived the rest of the
day, and we welcomed a new nephew safely into the Smith clan, albeit it a month
early. I had the privilege and delight of taking Abby to the hospital to meet her
baby brother for the first time. What a precious moment—made even more special
for me because we weren’t allowed to bring James to meet Owen due to influenza
concerns.
I got home around 7:30PM, put two exhausted boys to bed,
and slumped into a chair. Roy entered, smiling and happy to be home from a
concert. In his hand he held…
PIZZA?!
He got a whole pizza at the concert and brought it home.
I was too tired to even care.
“Get two plates.”
I had a slice. It was already semi-stale and, honestly, disgusting. Totally not
worth breaking the rules for. If I’m going to cheat it should at least be decent
food, like the pot pie. So that was kind of dumb in hindsight. But I didn’t
feel any differently that night after eating wheat. I continue to think it
doesn’t really make much of a difference one way or the other, except that I
tend to eat more healthily when there aren’t baked goods in the house. Ha—shocker!
Tonight I baked pizzas for us. I made a gluten free crust
for myself out of a mix I picked up at Aldi on Monday. It wasn’t as bad as I
thought! Was it a delicious chewy crust? No. But it was dense and hearty and
was a worthy-enough vessel for sauce, cheese, and pepperoni. I’ll be glad to
eat the leftovers. I bet people who couldn’t have gluten a hundred years ago
didn’t have boxed mixes…all you GF peeps are pretty lucky these days.
We also went running this morning to the bank and stopped
in at our local bakery. They had a few GF options and I chose a brownie, which
was not wonderful, but tasted like a brownie. It was pretty good with some
homemade chocolate ice cream.
Pizza and brownies and ice cream. Maybe I should go for
another run…!
The weekend should be a challenge with church services
and running here and there. We’ll see if I can think ahead enough to pack
accordingly. Leftover pizza will help!
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