Aaron has always had digestive problems. He has long mused about the reason, but refused to seek a solid diagnosis. When I would inquire about drugs that might help with the problem, he would brush me off and promise to improve his diet. Well, the pooping and the not-pooping and the cramps and the pain have recently become too much and I pressed my advantage. I read about Celiac disease and became convinced that every problem that Aaron has ever had is being caused by gluten. Aaron insisted that he has the generic and hopeless IBS. I made him get tested anyway. I began to prepare myself by making gluten free pancakes and instantly regretted ever mentioning Celiac Disease. Garbanzo bean flour does not a fine pancake make. The house still smells like roasted beans. Anyway, the test came back negative for gluten intolerance and I thanked the blessed Aunt Jemima. IBS was the official diagnosis and a fat-free, dairy-free diet is the cure. The fastest way to fail on a diet is to surround yourself with people who are eating, enjoying, even flaunting forbidden food. So, I made the decision that we would go on this diet as a family. Aaron tried to fight me on it, until I pointed out that he was only creating a future excuse for quitting and returning to poisoning his body with fat and dairy. So far my efforts to learn a new way of cooking have been successful. No fat, no dairy, no red meat is QUITE a change for the Heathen Family. I'm proud that no one had gagged at the dinner table, yet. Last night, I promised to find a recipe for pumpkin pie without all of the things that Aaron is not supposed to eat. The pie turned out great. It looked like pumpkin pie. It smelled like pumpkin pie. It did NOT taste good. It wasn't the soy milk or the egg whites or the graham cracker crust that ruined the pie. I ruined the pie by forgetting to add the sugar. 3/4 cup brown sugar are all that stood between me and success and I dropped the ball. This morning, Violet insisted that she would like to eat the pie for breakfast. I don't know why we didn't throw it away, but there it was and she was adament. I told her she wouldn't like it and that was all she needed to hear to confirm that the pie must be the best thing ever baked. I'll hand it to her, she made a good show of enjoying it. She never admitted how awful it was. Sometimes, Mommy needs a little encouragement.
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