Last night, we watched the Temple Grandin movie. Unbelievable.
I was putting off watching it. I was thinking it would be one of those movies that is fairly enjoyable for everyone else to watch, but excruciating for me because of how painfully it reflects what we feel every day. I figured, someday I'll be ready to watch it, but not right now.
I think it was one of those I-just-gotta-do-it things. I finally just rented it, and as much as it did reflect her struggles (and in a perfectly heart-rending way), I couldn't believe how often throughout the movie I laughed. Most of the time, autism is what has me crying hysterically, begging God to magically put our boy to sleep, or pounding my fist into my desk because I'm reading the 812th recipe for granola that doesn't work. But on a rare occasion, it's the thing that gives me the biggest laugh of the whole day. And when I say laugh, I don't mean a laugh-at-the-weirdo kind of laugh. I'm talking about the warmest, fuzziest joyful laugh that comes from a bright appreciation of something so unique, I can't even help myself.
Worth noting is how surprised I was by my own laughter. We're still only four months into his diagnosis, so I must say, we're in the thick of it. Everything is a fight, every bit of new information is both devastating and expensive (not to mention a brand-new process to think about)...so I guess it makes sense that I'm defining this whole thing by our experience with it so far. But who's to say we don't have a life full of laughter ahead? Who says we won't have a life punctuated by moments of pride, hope, and gratitude?
After watching the movie last night, I became sure of it. My little guy's mind is and will be more beautiful than I ever could have imagined.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Comfort Food to Save the Day
So, just as I was losing hope on what can, exactly, be done on a gluten-free, casein-free, soy-free, corn-free, red meat-free, yeast-free, and low-on-the-sugar-and-fruit-diet...two things came to my rescue.
First, Pesto. I have been nervous to try a pesto because a really good one usually relies pretty heavily on Parmesan and Romano cheeses, and I felt that without them, the pesto would be terribly one-dimensional and sad. But I braved it with one that looked pretty good, and it blew me away. I am bewildered and proud to announce that I did not miss the cheese at all. It called for roasting almonds in the oven, but I thought that sounded like way too much of a pain and a time-sucker. So I did a quick pulse in the food processor and roasted them myself in a skillet, which took a whopping total of maybe five minutes.
Cheese-Free Pesto
1/4 c almonds, pulsed a few times in food processor (be ready for the noise; it's ear-splitting)
3 cloves fresh garlic
1 1/2 c fresh basil leaves
1/2 c olive oil
1 pinch ground nutmeg
salt and pepper to taste
1. Roast almonds over medium heat in small ungreased skillet, a few minutes, until lightly toasted.
2. In food processor, combine toasted almonds, garlic, basil, olive oil, nutmeg, salt, and pepper. Process until coarse paste is formed. This took me about two minutes.
Done! And you have yourself a killer pesto. I'm going to mass produce this over the summer and freeze it like gangbusters. Yes.
Also, you can add 1/4 c of this to sauteed onions and a 28-oz can of diced tomatoes, simmer it for a nice long time in a large skillet, puree it, and that is another awesome pasta sauce with tons of infection-fighting power, a bit of protein, and even *gasp* some green!
This next one, I adapted from a Better Homes and Gardens recipe that was full of gluten, cheese, and everything we can't have. This one, you'd never know you were eating gluten-free. It's so good and so, so normal.
Hearty Chicken and Noodles
2-3 chicken breasts
2 1/4c water
14 oz. chicken broth (Kitchen Basics brand doesn't contain yeast extract--I think it has the best flavor, even including non-GFCF-safe broths)
1 bay leaf
1 tbsp. snipped fresh thyme (or 1 tsp. dried)
3/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper
2 c sliced carrot (4 medium)
1 1/2 c chopped onion (1 large)
3c dried wide noodles (I use Tinkyada brown rice pasta--it's the best gluten-free pasta out there. Tastes completely normal, just needs a little extra time to cook. Available at Meijer and Whole Foods, and probably other places.)
2c almond milk
1c loose-pack frozen peas
2 tbsp. gluten-free flour
1. If your chicken has skin, remove it. In 4-5 qt. Dutch oven, combine chicken, water, broth, bay leaf, dried thyme (if using), salt, and pepper. Add carrot and onion. Bring to boiling, reduce heat. Cover and simmer 30 minutes or until chicken is no longer pink. Discard bay leaf.
2. Cook pasta separately according to package instructions. Drain and rinse, set aside. In the meantime, remove chicken; cool slightly. Remove meat from bones; discard bones. Chop or shred chicken; set aside.
3. Return vegetable mixture to boiling. Stir in 1 1/2c milk and peas.
4. In a screw-top jar, combine remaining 1/2c milk and flour. Cover and shake until smooth. Stir into vegetable mixture. Cook and stir over medium heat until thickened and bubbly. Stir in chicken, pasta, and fresh thyme (if using). Cook 1-2 minutes until heated through.
**This recipe originally calls for the dry pasta to be cooked in the vegetable mixture in step 3. I cook the noodles separately because the brown rice pasta releases a starch when it's cooked that is very tart. The pasta itself does not taste tart, but if the starch is released into the rest of your dish, it pretty much ruins it. If you're not a GFCF family, it's perfectly fine and probably more efficient just to cook your noodles within the vegetable mixture.
So, this dish is freaking awesome. I haven't had good comfort food in my kitchen in a very long time, and this definitely fit the bill. Try it, friends! Even if you're not GFCF, it's a great meal. It makes a bunch and stretches pretty far for the week.
My kids absolutely gobbled this stuff up.
Enjoy, friends!
First, Pesto. I have been nervous to try a pesto because a really good one usually relies pretty heavily on Parmesan and Romano cheeses, and I felt that without them, the pesto would be terribly one-dimensional and sad. But I braved it with one that looked pretty good, and it blew me away. I am bewildered and proud to announce that I did not miss the cheese at all. It called for roasting almonds in the oven, but I thought that sounded like way too much of a pain and a time-sucker. So I did a quick pulse in the food processor and roasted them myself in a skillet, which took a whopping total of maybe five minutes.
Cheese-Free Pesto
1/4 c almonds, pulsed a few times in food processor (be ready for the noise; it's ear-splitting)
3 cloves fresh garlic
1 1/2 c fresh basil leaves
1/2 c olive oil
1 pinch ground nutmeg
salt and pepper to taste
1. Roast almonds over medium heat in small ungreased skillet, a few minutes, until lightly toasted.
2. In food processor, combine toasted almonds, garlic, basil, olive oil, nutmeg, salt, and pepper. Process until coarse paste is formed. This took me about two minutes.
Done! And you have yourself a killer pesto. I'm going to mass produce this over the summer and freeze it like gangbusters. Yes.
Also, you can add 1/4 c of this to sauteed onions and a 28-oz can of diced tomatoes, simmer it for a nice long time in a large skillet, puree it, and that is another awesome pasta sauce with tons of infection-fighting power, a bit of protein, and even *gasp* some green!
This next one, I adapted from a Better Homes and Gardens recipe that was full of gluten, cheese, and everything we can't have. This one, you'd never know you were eating gluten-free. It's so good and so, so normal.
Hearty Chicken and Noodles
2-3 chicken breasts
2 1/4c water
14 oz. chicken broth (Kitchen Basics brand doesn't contain yeast extract--I think it has the best flavor, even including non-GFCF-safe broths)
1 bay leaf
1 tbsp. snipped fresh thyme (or 1 tsp. dried)
3/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper
2 c sliced carrot (4 medium)
1 1/2 c chopped onion (1 large)
3c dried wide noodles (I use Tinkyada brown rice pasta--it's the best gluten-free pasta out there. Tastes completely normal, just needs a little extra time to cook. Available at Meijer and Whole Foods, and probably other places.)
2c almond milk
1c loose-pack frozen peas
2 tbsp. gluten-free flour
1. If your chicken has skin, remove it. In 4-5 qt. Dutch oven, combine chicken, water, broth, bay leaf, dried thyme (if using), salt, and pepper. Add carrot and onion. Bring to boiling, reduce heat. Cover and simmer 30 minutes or until chicken is no longer pink. Discard bay leaf.
2. Cook pasta separately according to package instructions. Drain and rinse, set aside. In the meantime, remove chicken; cool slightly. Remove meat from bones; discard bones. Chop or shred chicken; set aside.
3. Return vegetable mixture to boiling. Stir in 1 1/2c milk and peas.
4. In a screw-top jar, combine remaining 1/2c milk and flour. Cover and shake until smooth. Stir into vegetable mixture. Cook and stir over medium heat until thickened and bubbly. Stir in chicken, pasta, and fresh thyme (if using). Cook 1-2 minutes until heated through.
**This recipe originally calls for the dry pasta to be cooked in the vegetable mixture in step 3. I cook the noodles separately because the brown rice pasta releases a starch when it's cooked that is very tart. The pasta itself does not taste tart, but if the starch is released into the rest of your dish, it pretty much ruins it. If you're not a GFCF family, it's perfectly fine and probably more efficient just to cook your noodles within the vegetable mixture.
So, this dish is freaking awesome. I haven't had good comfort food in my kitchen in a very long time, and this definitely fit the bill. Try it, friends! Even if you're not GFCF, it's a great meal. It makes a bunch and stretches pretty far for the week.
My kids absolutely gobbled this stuff up.
Enjoy, friends!
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Eggs
Okay, autism sucks. But every so often, you have a really great moment.
I was making eggs for breakfast. William runs into the kitchen babbling nonsense and doing something frantically with his hands. He wants eggs, and he wants 'em bad. He just doesn't know what to do to ask for them.
So, I said, "Hey, buddy, do you want some?"
He said, "I...I-I-I w-w-w-w-waaaaaant thome..."
He didn't sign anything. He didn't just repeat "you want some." He. Said. "I want some."
You know what, William? You can have as many eggs as you want.
I was making eggs for breakfast. William runs into the kitchen babbling nonsense and doing something frantically with his hands. He wants eggs, and he wants 'em bad. He just doesn't know what to do to ask for them.
So, I said, "Hey, buddy, do you want some?"
He said, "I...I-I-I w-w-w-w-waaaaaant thome..."
He didn't sign anything. He didn't just repeat "you want some." He. Said. "I want some."
You know what, William? You can have as many eggs as you want.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
It Begins
William is our two-year-old son. And two weeks ago tomorrow, he was diagnosed with autism.
Our daughter, Nora, ever since she was born, has lived and breathed by the ability to communicate. She's unbelievable. She'll do anything to be able to tell her story. When she was two minutes old, even, the nurses in the delivery room called her "vigorous." Yeah, I'm not gonna lie. I'm pretty proud of us. We produced an incredible little girl.
William was always different. Now, don't get me wrong--he's just as amazing, and we're just as proud of him. But he was always so quiet. At first, we thought it was a gift. Look how independent he is, we'd say. Look how he can keep himself busy with his bedroom doorknob...he could do that for hours!
The time came, however, that it was no longer possible to ignore the fact that he wasn't speaking. He did plenty of babbling, for sure, but he was never trying to communicate a message. Most kids, if they want cereal, would point to the cereal box and bounce up and down, or whine or something. That's communicating. William, though...he just wandered in circles and smacked his ears and whimpered.
Since that defining moment two weeks ago, I've been bombarded, everywhere I go, by normality. And having this diagnosis gives me pause every time I see life proceed as normal for everyone else. I push my cart in the grocery store by magazine racks. It's October, and they're already full of magazines advertising new holiday cookie recipes and creative Christmas tree decor. William is off all gluten, casein, soy, and corn products. Am I even going to try Christmas cookies? Between phone calls and research on therapies and insurance, am I even going to have time to decorate? And if I do, is he going to notice...anything? Is he ever going to be able to learn Christmas songs? You know what--scratch all that. Is he ever going to learn to tell me and his dad and his sister, out loud, that he loves us?
At this point, most of what I have is questions that no one can answer. It's okay. In the meantime, my son is the most beautiful and gentle spirit I've ever met in my life. He deserves to have a voice.
And we're going to find it, together.
Our daughter, Nora, ever since she was born, has lived and breathed by the ability to communicate. She's unbelievable. She'll do anything to be able to tell her story. When she was two minutes old, even, the nurses in the delivery room called her "vigorous." Yeah, I'm not gonna lie. I'm pretty proud of us. We produced an incredible little girl.
William was always different. Now, don't get me wrong--he's just as amazing, and we're just as proud of him. But he was always so quiet. At first, we thought it was a gift. Look how independent he is, we'd say. Look how he can keep himself busy with his bedroom doorknob...he could do that for hours!
The time came, however, that it was no longer possible to ignore the fact that he wasn't speaking. He did plenty of babbling, for sure, but he was never trying to communicate a message. Most kids, if they want cereal, would point to the cereal box and bounce up and down, or whine or something. That's communicating. William, though...he just wandered in circles and smacked his ears and whimpered.
Since that defining moment two weeks ago, I've been bombarded, everywhere I go, by normality. And having this diagnosis gives me pause every time I see life proceed as normal for everyone else. I push my cart in the grocery store by magazine racks. It's October, and they're already full of magazines advertising new holiday cookie recipes and creative Christmas tree decor. William is off all gluten, casein, soy, and corn products. Am I even going to try Christmas cookies? Between phone calls and research on therapies and insurance, am I even going to have time to decorate? And if I do, is he going to notice...anything? Is he ever going to be able to learn Christmas songs? You know what--scratch all that. Is he ever going to learn to tell me and his dad and his sister, out loud, that he loves us?
At this point, most of what I have is questions that no one can answer. It's okay. In the meantime, my son is the most beautiful and gentle spirit I've ever met in my life. He deserves to have a voice.
And we're going to find it, together.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)