Official Blog Update

In January 2015, after three+ wonderful years of blogging about my family’s journey with celiac disease and gluten free living, I decided to stop this blog.

My family’s lifestyle has not changed – we’re still gluten free, we still deal with the challenges of having a child with celiac disease – but I no longer feel compelled to write about it on a regular basis.

I decided to move on to a different topic, one that is at the forefront of my life: writing and mothering. Please click the link below if this appeals to you. (I still post gluten free recipes on occasion!)

Writing at the Table: feeding my dream and my family

However, if you’re at the beginning of your celiac or gluten free journey, or you have come across this blog in search of a recipe or some commiseration, there are many archives available. I wish you luck on whatever journey you are on!

Kindest regards to all, and a belated yet heartfelt thank you to those of you who have followed me here over the years!

Dana

Advertisements

No Words

There are no words that can fully describe the mountain of grief and despair that I feel, that every person I’ve spoken to feels, that so many in our country feel, and really in the world, about the tragedy that took place last Friday in Newtown, CT. Twenty children and six adults.

Those families should be celebrating the holidays and looking forward to the New Year, not planning and attending a funeral. Certainly not for an innocent child, or any of the brave women who died trying to protect them.

I’ve mostly kept my reading about the events to news articles, but I know that blogs and websites of all types have been posting about the horrific massacre. This has hit all of us so hard. I’ve been unsure how to handle it here, in this space. At first I thought about just waiting a few days and then continuing my usual posts, but that seemed wrong. How could I not at least acknowledge what is so clearly on the forefront of so many of our minds, and hanging so heavy in our hearts?

As a mom of two young children, there is nothing I fear more than having one of my children die before me. There is an order to things, and that is not it. I remember my own mom, who passed away at age 58, saying that very thing to me when she’d hear about a missing or murdered child. I understood her then, but never more clearly than I do now. A mother should not have to write her child’s obituary.

My heart is aching for those families, for their loved ones, for that entire community.

There has been a lot of talk about gun control and mental health, both which clearly merit more discussion and change, but that’s not what this post is about. This post is about sorrow, empathy, and also gratitude for what I have.

Night time around our home is no easy feat. Every element can be a battle, from toothbrushing to vitamin-taking to how many bedtime stories to the inevitable weepy declarations from our daughter about how she does not like to sleep. There are often tears and tantrums. And I’m not just talking about from the kids. But ever since Friday I have been thinking about those poor grief-stricken parents in Newtown, how they would no doubt give anything in the world to get back these kind of mundane and tedious struggles. To put their child to bed.

my kids

My gratitude is here.

My regular posts will return in a day or two, and it will be a relief in a way to talk about gluten of all things, but this is where my mind and heart will be.