Rush, Rush, Rush

To be honest, it has been one of those days - very busy day at work, school run which seemed to last for ever plus added into the mix, blonde 2 is making his debut in his school's play tonight so he had to be fed & back out in just under 30 minutes. So what did I do? I did manage to resist the lure of McDonalds (though that would have been SO easy even if wrong on so many levels) and decided all 3 could have their favourite foods - good idea! But now I've realised tomorrow will be a bad day in the life of blonde 3.

He loves pasta you see. It is his number one food. Pasta tossed in butter with paramasan.
Takes about 5 minutes to cook and even with his 'selective' eating, he always eats it. I forgot that I know now it will make his tummy swell up and hurt. I am so cross with myself for being so stupid - yes, I know it is a 'banned' word in this house, but that is what I was. I was so focused on getting blonde 2 to the theatre in time, everything else just slipped out of focus. This is making me wonder how on earth we are going to manage the diet change? Am I wrong in insisting that we don't all go gluten free as blonde 3 has to learn to make choices or should we all adapt, at least in the early months?

And so the debate goes on in my head, still no results, nothing to say 'this is it, get everyone tested now, let's find who else has it' and get rid of gluten.

Meanwhile, in the rest of our lives, it is fast approaching the end of the school term, so it will be manic for several weeks, with sports days, speech days, leavers days, move up days and presents to buy for teachers, to fit around work - surely not more scented candles - and, excitingly, blonde 1 starts work experience on monday working in early years at blonde 2's school. Going to be fireworks!

Just waiting

Everyday I wait for the postman. Everytime the phone rings, my heart jumps. Why? I've not developed a secret passion for postie or being stalked on the phone but I know any day now, little blonde's results of his gastroendoscopy will arrive and it will be final, beyond belief that he has coeliac disease. I'm still struggling, you see. He seems to have accepted it, in the same way that all little boys believe that rockets really can go to the moon and polar bears are real. I just want to scream and shout that it's not fair, not my son, not my precious last born. Logically I know that I am lucky as it won't kill him but emotionally I'm cross and I feel guilt- I'm a mother. But that is my internal battle that he must never see. Superficially, we are set. He has his own toaster, own breadmaker, own saucepan, own sieve, the list goes on and on. I buy gluten free products in shops, reeling at the cost. I've even bought a cookbook, which I am sure will be fantastic, if I can just bring myself to cook from it. I love cooking, I love baking either alone or with the blondes and I just can't see how I'm going to be able to carry on enjoying it so much. But, I know I will and my reward will be little blonde growing big and strong. See, I can and am positive but I also know that tomorrow could be the day the letter arrives or the Doctor rings.