Sunday, February 26, 2012

Making My Own Pancake Mix


I grew up on Bisquick pancakes, and I enjoyed the fast easy prep the mix offered when I became a mommy, too. However, Bisquick isn't safe for my food allergic kiddo. I went through dozens of recipes and alternate versions of those recipes to put together my own pancakes from scratch, but holy cow, it's definitely not fast and easy. I kept thinking there had to be a way to put it all together in a mix form at home. So, I started looking for powdered versions of all the liquid parts to my recipe.

Powdered buttermilk is available at most grocery stores. I ran across it looking for something else and picked it up for my mix experiment.

Powdered butter, however, isn't as easy to find, and it was iffy as to what the actual ingredients were. In my online research, it was called pantry butter, and used as a back up plan for when you ran out of butter. It could be reconstituted as a spread. I wasn't really interested in something like that. I didn't see how the consistency would be right for pancakes. Then I ran across a powdered butter that wasn't meant for reconstitution, Frontier Bulk Butter Powder. This stuff is made for mixes, and is highly concentrated. 1/4 lb powder for every 1lb regular butter. That sounded great since it's about $20 per pound, and I would only need about 1 tbsp for every stack of pancakes I wanted to make.

I've used EnerG egg replacer for years, and it's available in most groceries with decent health food sections. So, there was no doubt in my mind that would be what I used for this recipe, but I wondered if it would work as well mixed in with the flour rather than mixed with warm water before putting in the mixture like the directions on the box recommend.

Actually, out of all the liquid ingredients, the vanilla was the hardest to manage with a corn allergy. They make vanilla powder, but even the super expensive organic kind I found at Whole Foods contained corn products both to sweeten and preserve it. This one was tough for me to figure out, and I eventually decided to try dried vanilla beans (the cheapest in our area is from Trader Joe's). I thought I it would be easy to just cut them, scrape them and crumble them into the mix, however, it was harder to manage than I thought.



The first mix I tried:

1 1/4 C all-purpose flour
2 Tbsp sugar
1 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp baking soda
2 tsp baking powder (homemade)
4 Tbsp buttermilk powder
1 Tbsp butter powder
1 vanilla bean, cut in half and scraped

So, I mixed it all up and measured the powder mixture so I could make a bunch and just scoop out what I needed as I went. It measured exactly 1 3/4 C mix, and that made me happy being an exact measurement and all. Now for the vanilla beans. Cutting and scraping was easy. Getting the 'bean' unclumped and evenly distributed in the mix was not. I made a pile of the scraped vanilla, added a little flour and crumbled it in my finger tips until I got it as evenly distributed as I could. It looked like those little black dots all over the mix would work just fine. I added 1 1/2 C warm water and two eggs, and got cooking. They rose well, cooked evenly, and looked great, but the flavor wasn't like the scratch recipe. Time for revisions.

This time:

1 1/4 C all-purpose flour
2 Tbsp sugar
1 tsp regular salt (I decided I wanted everything super fine and powder like)
1 tsp baking soda
2 tsp baking powder (homemade)
1 Tbsp butter powder
3 tsp EnerG egg replacer
1 vanilla bean, cut in half and scraped

This time I decided to nix the buttermilk powder and use the egg replacer. I mixed it all together and added 1 1/4 C buttermilk. The consistency was too thick. So, I added about 3/4 C warm water, enough to make it the consistency I liked for my pancakes, and got cooking. This time, they turned out fluffy and yummy. They came out tasting almost exactly like the scratch kind, and not a single pancake was left when we were done (depending on how big you make your pancakes, it makes about a dozen). I definitely feel like I've found the mix recipe for us, however, I'm thinking when I put up the mix, I might just stick the vanilla beans in whole. I've heard of this technique when flavoring sugar. Maybe it will work with flavoring the mix without my having to cut and scrape the darn things. Or, maybe I'll just try it without them. Let the syrup add the flavoring. We'll see.

To start with, I'm mixing up several individual bags of mix. Next I'll try making a big batch and try just scooping it out and adding the buttermilk and water.

Final product: 1 1/2 C mix, 1 1/4 C buttermilk, 1/2 - 3/4 C warm water

So much easier than scratch and a nice change of pace from cereal, oatmeal squares or cereal bars.

Saturday, February 18, 2012

The Good Mom

A sweet friend from college suggested a book on her facebook page a while back, and I decided to put it on my list of books to read this year. It's called Grace for the Good Girl by Emily P. Freeman, and it's about letting go of the try-hard life. I was finally able to read a couple of chapters this morning and just HAD to share an excerpt. It's like she read my mind.
The Good Mom
The life of a young mother can be a very dark place to live. People don't really talk about that at baby showers. Those early days are filled with doubt, fear, worry and lots of epic failures. Pregnancy brought with it all kinds of crazy. I felt sick all the time and quickly began to resent the loss of appetite, energy, and perceived control. From the first twinge of guilty resentment I felt during month three of that twin pregnancy, I just knew that I would never be Good Mom, no matter how much I thought I should be.
 Good Mom makes breakfast and smiles a lot. Good Mom always remembers to notice, compliment, and encourage. She is fun and funny. She plays dolls with pleasure and even makes suggestions for pretend scenarios to make the play go longer. Her patience is limitless and she never raises her voice. She wakes up early every morning and spends time with Jesus. She is consistent and kind. She makes cookies from scratch. She plays outside even when it's really hot. She builds forts with blankets in the living room. Her house is always clean, her produce is always fresh, and she has a garden with flowers and vegetables. She can sing. She makes puppets out of socks. Her kids never watch TV because they are totally satisfied to listen to the riveting, captivating stories that their Good Mom makes up. Every night.
 And then there is me. I haven't worn matching socks in three years. I pulled out nine individual socks from my drawer the other day. Nine. All different. My kids fight. A lot. They call each other the biggest insult in their kindergarten-level arsenal: baby. And they all hate to be called babies, so of course that is their first line of defense when provoked. And it makes me crazy. I have had the same butter knife in my dishwasher for two weeks. Some unidentifiable food is stuck to one side. It's just too much to wash it by hand. And? My car has ants.
With each small discouragement, be it the messy state of my house or the messy state of my heart, I feel a little more less-than, a little further from Good Mom, a little more shamed by her. She stands in my kitchen with a ladle in her hand and her Williams-Sonoma apron on, with just enough flour on her nose to prove she's been cooking but not enough to make her look foolish. And her clean, good kids cling to those apron strings while she looks at me with pity in her eyes and shakes that ladle in my general direction, telling me what a failure I've become. I feel like there is a mom I'm supposed to be but I will never, ever measure up.

....
As good girls, we subconsciously label ourselves as the strong ones, the responsible ones, the sweet ones, or the right ones. We try to stand tall and capable as the good Christian, the good wife, the good mom, and the good one. But Jesus is calling us to a deeper, truer, freer identity. All he wants is simply you - minus your good works, minus your perfect attendance, minus your politeness. When you really believe that, you may discover that all you want is Jesus, simply Jesus. Not just to get to heaven or to help you be a good person or do the right thing, but to simply love and be loved by him.
(Emphasis mine.) My favorite part is the fact that her car has ants, and you know why? Because I immediately thought to myself, "as bad as my car has been, I've never had ants." Randy Alcorn says when it comes to other human beings, "comparison is poison." There are days I think that I'm doing pretty good compared to some others I know. There are days I think all the moms I know have got it all figured out and I'm the only one struggling. And, oh the fear of being found out! That fear drives me and pushes me to try harder, do better, paint a beautiful picture of myself to show the world, but it's all an illusion. The comparison I should be making is to Jesus, the standard God has set. To see myself as I really am, broken and evil with no ability of my own. To then rest in the redemption God provided in his Son, knowing that he will finish the work he started in me not because I'm worthy but because HE is worthy, because he loves me and desires the best for me.

"There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear." 1 John 4:18

Oh, to be free of that image of The Good Mom, and just be me, a sinner saved by grace choosing to allow God to redeem motherhood in me.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Orange Juice Smoothie



I wanted to figure out a smoothie type drink that Jackson would enjoy (i.e. fruit and yogurt but no pulp or seeds). I found several orange julius copy recipes online that sounded pretty easy, but I wanted it to have a little more nutritional value. So, I removed the extra sugar and added some vanilla yogurt. I would have used plain if I had had it on hand, but this was a spur of the moment deal.

1 Can Frozen Concentrated Orange Juice (100% Natural)
1 Cup Milk
1/2 Cup Water
1 Cup Organic Yogurt
1 tsp Natural Vanilla extract
10 to 15 Ice Cubes
 And a little whipped cream on top.

It was a HIT! Jackson drank every last drop, and I enjoyed mine, too. We'll be trying this with grape juice next.

Makes about 5 Cups.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

6 Years


The smell of home made cupcakes is beginning to fade, and the cloud of powdered sugar that loomed as I mixed the corn-free icing has finally settled all over my kitchen. There are sprinkles and colored sugar spread across my kitchen table and scattered all the way into the living room. The kids are all snuggled in their beds, and I'm finally alone with my thoughts (and this computer).

What a day! First his favorite breakfast, cinnamon toast (using Martin's Whole Wheat Potato Bread, the BEST corn free bread, actually the BEST store bought bread on the market, hands down). Then OT, obviously, there are no breaks in therapy, not when we can help it, not even for his birthday. He found a dollar in his pocket, and was so excited, you would have thought he had won the lottery, if he knew what that was. We ate Chick-Fil-A for lunch, something he can only have every once in a while, and went to play at a local inflatable gym. Sweaty and exhausted, we went to the store to pick out his present, something he had wanted to do. If you knew him even the slightest bit, I could give you one guess as to what he picked out and how long it took him to do it, and I know you'd get it right. A Lego set in about 2 minutes flat. Then off to the house for some Lego building fun before going out to the back yard to enjoy this beautiful Spring like weather. We blew bubbles, had races and played catch before heading back in for some pizza, from an awesome local pizza place that surprisingly doesn't use corn in their breading or their sauce. They also have a gluten free menu (we LOVE that place). After that it was cupcake baking time. He wants an ice cream cake from a special bakery/ice cream parlor for his party in a couple of days. So, this will be the first birthday party he's ever had that I didn't make his cake. It's a little hard for this 'do-it-yourself' mama, but it's all about what he wants, right? I did have to do something. I can't outsource ALL the fun. So, we made and decorated our own cupcakes today (cake recipe here and icing recipe here). Then it was time for bath and story time. We read Rudyard Kipling's How The Rhinoceros Got His Skin. Jackson loves the playful style of Kipling's stories, and I LOVE reading them. One of my absolute favorite children's authors. Then I snuggled in for one last hug and kiss from my adorable 6 year old boy before turning out the light on his beautiful day.

I am often reminded by well meaning people to cherish every moment I have with my children because it will all be over too quickly. I understand where they're coming from, but it always makes me feel guilty because I find it extremely difficult to cherish the times I have to dig baby wipes out of the toilet with my bare hands (because he forgot they aren't the same as the flushable kind), or cry all the way home from a birthday party because something (and he never did verbalize what that something was) upset him to the point of madness in which he punched and kicked me for the first time in his life. I don't cherish behavior meetings with his school, the frustrating food allergy issues we face every day, or any of the other crazy messes and problems we struggle with in our unique little family. But, I do cherish him, and the six years I've had him in my life. His middle name means laughter. I changed it from Isaiah just before we left the hospital with him because I felt like God was leading me to name him Isaac. God has been explaining that decision every day since. I can't say that every day with Jackson has been all laughter and smiles, but I can say that because of him I know better how to appreciate those moments of sweet giggling bliss. I understand better now how precious they truly are.

Six years. It's hard to believe, how far we've come, how far we have to go, but I'm looking forward to the rest of our journey.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

The Best Valentine's Gift Ever

Here he comes loaded down with his back pack and Valentine's Day goodies wearing his serious face, the one he always wears while he's trying to find my car in the madness of carpool. Our eyes don't lock, not like mine and my older son's do when he finds me in the crowd, but I know he sees me. I brace myself waiting to hear the quicky report from the assistant walking him out. She's smiling. She's always smiling. Here we go. Today was the Valentine's Day party. A change in the usual schedule. Goodies and treats he can't have. Chaos, the kind my older son would relish. I've been nervous about this moment all day, the way I've been every school day since we met with the school to have the "we're not sure this is the right place for him" meeting. My heart's beating faster. I'm so excited to see my boys, and so anxious at the same time. How long does it take to walk three cars back? The assistant looks at me with that loving understanding smile she always wears and says....

"We had a good day....a great day."

I didn't know what to do, cry, shout, squeal. Then Jackson says, "Mom, I didn't get in trouble today." Big proud smiles! Honestly, I think at that moment I could have lifted him up over my head twirled around and giggled in slow motion, you know like in the movies, but I'm pretty sure it would have been completely lost on Jackson and it would have made my older son too embarrassed to go back to school next week. So, I was dancing and shouting in my mind. The craziness of the day (you know it's Valentine's Day, right, flowers, chocolate, lots of kisses) has prevented me from properly praising my Savior for this amazing gift.

Here it is. Late but not any less real.

Thank You, Jesus, for this moment, for this day, for this progress, for this child, for Your presence in my life, for the gift of redemption, for the best Valentine's Day gift ever.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Finding the Right Buzz


Or, I guess I should say the right buzz kill. Caffeine is known to have a calming affect on those who suffer with ADD or ADHD. It's a stimulant and acts much like ADD medication does in helping with focus and attention. Most pediatricians, though, will still caution that caffeine is not good for children. With that being said, we (my pediatrician husband and I) decided to try it with our autistic son.

It's not easy to find a caffeine delivery system for a child allergic to corn with certain food texture/temperature aversions.

So, my first thought, being from the South, was to give him a glass of sweet tea in the morning before school. Sounds easy enough, right? Wrong. He hated it.

Soda, even the natural kind, isn't an option because he can't stand the fizziness. Warm liquids are equally as hard to tolerate. I tried yerba mate (something I like to drink) and earl gray tea over ice. Same reaction as the sweet tea, even when I sweetened it to the pucker point. Still, we were noticing a difference in his behavior when I was able to get him to drink some of it, usually accomplished with bribing. So, I scoured the health food isle at our local special-diet-friendly grocery store to find Energy Bites, a berry yerba mate drink, and a natural energy shot.

First the yerba mate drink, Guayaki Yerba Mate Very Berry 16 oz. with 150mg of caffeine per can. WOW! A can of Coke has 33mg, and a can of Mountain Dew has 50mg of caffeine. I thought, "Hey, this might work. I can just give him half a cup, ask him to take it like medicine, and he'll get more than enough to get the job done." However, this stuff doesn't keep well after opening, and the more I tried this, the more he reacted with whiney icky faces. I liked it enough, though, to keep buying it for those mornings when I need more focus and attention, or a swift kick in the heinie.

Next we tried the Energy Bites. "Mom, they taste good, I just can't chew them." Given the initial look on his face at first bite, it took me a little while to get brave enough to try them. They do taste ok, but wow, they took some serious chewing. Think stale gummy worms, the cheap kind from the 80's. I think these will end up work out food for mommy.

Next the the tiny little bottle of Steaz Energy Shot. 150mg of caffeine in a 2.5 oz bottle. I knew better than to ask him to drink it straight at this point, and he does NOT need that much caffeine. This time I decided to just add it to something he liked. In this case, a milkshake.

2-3 good scoops of Breyers All Natural Vanilla ice cream
2-3 good scoops of Stonyfield Organic Vanilla yogurt
2-3 tsp of Lyle's Golden Syrup (to sweeten it, you could probably use honey, too)
enough milk to make it smooth, and
.5 oz or 1 tsp Steaz Energy Shot (I figure about 30mg of caffeine)

Well, this time, he drank it all down to the last drop and asked me AFTER it was all gone why he got to have a milk shake with breakfast. I said it was a special milk shake with medicine in it, and we were going to try it for a few days. His eyes lit up like I had just told him Christmas might come next week. "A milkshake for breakfast? Cool." Now, I would add fruit and make it a smoothie, but Jackson can tell if there's one strawberry/raspberry/ANYberry seed in a whole cup of juice. He likes orange juice though, so maybe I'll try my hand at making an orange julius copy recipe.

He focused well for me during school, and seemed more calm so far this morning. Maybe we've found the answer. Making a milkshake for breakfast will make more sense to me when the weather warms up. Right now, just watching him drink it made me cold. I'm currently dressed in mommy sweats with the fire going. General Lee (Georgia's groundhog) predicted an early Spring though. So, Spring, the sooner you get here, the sooner I can start complaining about how hot it is and how much I miss the cold.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Lay It Down

I'm not exactly sure how to put this into words. All I know right now is that I need to. It's eating away at my soul and threatening to unravel my sanity, at least what little I have left.

When Jackson was diagnosed with PDD (on the autism spectrum), I remember feeling like I was in over my head. First food allergies, and now this. I hit hyper advocate mode. I had to do everything in my power to get him all he needed to succeed in life. I spent hours researching and learning about his diagnosis, and countless more hours experimenting with what I learned. We got him into Babies Can't Wait (a Georgia program for special needs children under 3), got him into therapy and started wading through insurance denials and loop holes. At 3, we put him in a self contained autism class in a public school (oh, the trepidation I felt watching my 3 year old son who could barely talk being walked into a gigantic elementary school by a total stranger) plus two school therapy sessions a week. We struggled through the daunting process of applying for the Katie Becket Deeming Waiver for Medicaid (a life saver, otherwise, we wouldn't have been able to afford therapy). For a while, he was getting two private therapy sessions and two school therapy sessions a week. We finally figured out his diet and got his stomach issues under control. He began to develop at an exponential rate. Milestones were finally being reached. We were working closely with a developmental pediatrician, a psychologist, and multiple therapists and teachers. It was so amazing to see. Part of me wanted to believe we were 'curing' his autism one therapy session and doctor visit at a time. I started thinking he was going to be just fine. I started feeling guilty complaining about his diagnosis. I started feeling like I had nothing more to offer other parents we met at the beginning of our journey. I started feeling guilty as we saw Jackson pulling away from the other special needs students in his class. I quit talking about our life and ongoing struggles with his diagnosis. I let those relationships that sustained me at the beginning of this journey fade into the background.

We mainstreamed Jackson for preschool, and he was doing so well that we decided to put him into a special homeschool satellite program with his older typically developing brother. We were assured by his therapists and preschool teachers that he would be fine. The public school teachers and therapists would have mainstreamed him if we sent him there. So, we thought it was a good idea. At the very least this would ease him into the full time school thing since he would be going to class twice a week and at home with me the other days. We thought this was the best option for him. Now after struggling through the first few months of the school year, I'm beginning to think we were wrong.

Once again, I feel like I'm in over my head. We've had problems with his behavior in school from day one. He's struggling with things we thought we had conquered long ago. His differences are obvious in a peer setting. He struggles to make friends and be appropriately friendly. He struggles in class. There are so many details that go into the dynamic of the classroom, the teacher, the structure, the way the classroom is run, the way Jackson feels about school. It could be any one thing or all of those details compounding on each other. I know this particular classroom isn't working for him, but I'm so completely lost about what to do. The options aren't the same now. He didn't speak like a 3 year old should speak; so, speech therapy was the answer. He had low motor skills and body awareness; so, occupational therapy was the answer. He had violent reactions to some foods; so, an elimination diet was the answer. Now, he can't focus, doesn't properly interact with peers, refuses to obey his teacher, refuses to do his work in class. We've tried creative discipline, rewards, medication, diet, sensory stimulation/calming techniques, meetings with the school. We can't seem to get a handle on it. We've been wading through all the education options for our county, and it's almost as difficult as all the insurance and medicaid struggles we had early on in our journey. All homeschool isn't the answer because he NEEDS peer interaction to grow socially. All private isn't the answer because there's no way we could afford it on top of everything else. All public is scary given the class size and the few options he has left in the school system (due to his high rate of function). It's like we're stuck in the middle, in no-man's land.

At this point, the weight of this burden has all but silenced me. Even in prayer, all I seem to be able to get out of my mouth is, HELP! Those of you who know me well, know that asking a human for help is nearly impossible for me, and accepting help offered is almost as impossible. I kind of feel like a spoiled child. I don't want to reach out for help, I want God to miraculously intervene and make every problem go away. I'm not sure exactly where I got the idea that this is how things work, or the idea that I need to maintain some kind of Rockwell white picket fence image at all costs. I want it all to be perfect, and when it isn't, I want it to at least look perfect.

I can share spiritual burdens and struggles fairly easily, but the burden of a mother, that one I tend to prefer carrying all by myself. The thought of sharing it or letting it go is completely terrifying to me. I can't see how anyone else could serve this child and this purpose with the same kind of reckless abandon that I will. He's MY baby, and that makes his struggles my struggles. That makes his problems my problems. That makes his life and all that goes into it my responsibility. That means I have to carry it all because sharing even a little part means letting go of too much.

"Cast all your care upon him; for he cares for you." - 1 Peter 5:7

So, if I were talking to myself as a friend, being completely honest and candid, I would probably share something like the above verse and tell my overburdened self to share it with God, because Jackson is ultimately HIS baby. Jackson's struggles are His struggles. Jackson's problems are His problems. Jackson's life and all that goes into it is His responsibility. That I belong to Him in the same way, and He will serve me and this child with more reckless abandon than I could ever imagine. He already has.

So, in an attempt to listen to the part of my brain that is still working, I want to share part of this burden. I'm going to type out the prayer on my heart right now, and hope that if you're reading this post and feeling the weight of a similar burden, that you can pray along with me.

"So, Man of Sorrow, acquainted with grief, I need Your help and the prayers of Your people.

I, once again, need reminding that I'm not alone. That some transparency could be applied in this area of my life to my gain and to the benefit of others around me struggling with carrying a burden too big for them.

I need to remember that no one has the perfect family. The image I remember idolizing on the cover of the Saturday Evening Post is a painting, and frankly, no one could possibly carry the turkey on that cover much less the burden of maintaining that image.

I have problems. My children have problems. That doesn't make me a bad mother, it just makes me human.

I can't walk this path alone. I need You and those you have placed beside me. I need them, and they need me. Our burdens may be different, but they were all meant to be shared.

I need to remember that You are ultimately the only one capable of carrying my burdens. That laying them down at Your feet is the only hope I have of ever standing straight and tall as Your child.

I need you. Jackson needs you. Please give us the answers we need, and lead us through this maze of life to the destination You have prepared for us.

Help me to rest in your love and provision and allow you to carry me and my burdens.

I ask all this in the name of my Savior, Jesus Christ..... Amen."