I am exhausted. My house is a mess. I have frosting in my hair and on my shirt, and I think I might be able to sleep until Thursday.
Throwing a gluten, dairy, and nut free birthday party for twenty children is not easy. You have to make all your own cupcakes. You have to triple check every bit of food and you have to find a place that gives you that control over the food. I started baking days ago.
But it is so much better than the alternative.
Two years ago I did not bother to throw a party. My son was only six months into the healing process and he still had few friends. I invited all three of them to an open house. We had mostly adults…friends and family. He was getting better, but he was still not well. The University of California San Diego has a pediatric gastroenterologist who says it takes a year for a child to heal. I think that is just about right.
Now, he has too many friends for me to feel safe with his first choice…a pool party. So we went with his second choice which was ice skating. Yes, now we have too many friends. He invited a small army and despite a perfect pool day and a weekend when a lot of people had other obligations, his friends showed up. So I needed to make a lot of cupcakes, and my mom stuffed a lot of goody bags.
What a fantastic problem to have.
At times this diet can seem daunting. It is a challenge. I can’t just order a bunch of pizzas. I can’t take party package B. I have to stay up late making all my own frosting, cake, and dip. We have to get all this stuff to the party site in the car. We have to do our own set-up and clean-up.
But in return, instead of a sickly isolated child, we have “The Mayor”, a happy, outgoing, confident child who gets along with virtually everyone and who helps others with food allergies or restrictions to feel less isolated. We have fun parties where there are no real limits. And I get a lot of energy simply from seeing that happening.
I often say “Life is hard if you choose to do what is easy. Life is easy if you choose to do what is hard” and that is how I feel about how we eat. Sure, it’s the middle of the night and I am exhausted, sticky and clad in frosting. My living room contains enough Lego to build a doghouse. Thinking about cake nauseates me.
But my child is happy, healthy, strong and sound asleep. He has more friends than time to see them.
I will take that trade-off any day.
