Open Letter to "Chef" Damian Cardone

Dear Damian,
I am a gluten-free potential restaurant patron and as such, would like to educate you a bit on your anti-"gluten-free" rants on facebook.
(For those not on Celiac.com, Karina's Kitchen blog, or any number of other high-profile gluten-free websites, here is a sample link to the online explosion discussing this "chef" and what he posted on his facebook wall for the entire world to see: Damian Cardone )

I am certain you know absolutely nothing about Celiac Disease, Gluten Intolerance, or various other reasons why one would find it necessary to maintain a strict gluten-free diet, but as you call yourself a "chef" and claim to have studied under an entire host of more famous, better educated chefs whom I am certain would be embarrassed to be lumped together with you right now (severely anger any large people group who sustains your livelihood and you stand alone), I decided I should personally educate you.

I should also mention that I have been one of those "liberal hippie idiot" diners (and anyone who knows me is spitting coffee at their computer screens right now) ordering the gluten-free meal. I have been gluten-free for five years now. I was gluten-free before gluten-free was cool.

You posted:
"May god help the Liberal hippie idiot whos going to ask for gluten free pasta this weekend."
and...
"Gluten free is bullXXX!! Flour and bread have been a staple of life for thousands, THOUSANDS of years. People who claim to be gluten intolorent dont realize that its all in there disturbed liitle heads. People ask me for gluten free pasta in my restaurant all the time, I tell em sure, Then I serve serve em our pasta, Which I make from scratch with high gluten flour. And you know what? nothing, NOTHING! ever happens! People leave talking about how good they feel gluten free and guess what, They just had a full dose! Idiots!" 


(by the way... you misspelled "intolerant" ... just an ironic little heads up.)


If you would like to know why it is that your patrons leave and you never see any effects of their just being poisoned, it's because (and this is KEY for you to understand) this is not an "allergic reaction" type dietary restriction on the same level as a nut allergy which would cause anaphylaxis. Many of those who are gluten-free do have a secondary skin-inflammation that happens when they use lotions or creams with wheat protein, but that's not central to the actual dietary need to remain gluten-free. This is an "allergy" that happens in the INTESTINES. Now, I doubt you have the type of establishment in which diners hang out for hours on end after being poisoned, but if you did... I feel quite certain that you would be witness to some of the most atrocious "reactions" you have ever witnessed. 


If you have ever had food poisoning, ever had the flu, ever laid on the floor of the bathroom with your cheek on the cold ceramic tile - shaking and shivering  - you have a clue as to what happens when you poison your diners with "high-gluten flour" pasta. I can't even imagine anyone hiring or continuing to employ such a flagrant liability as you, but I can guarantee if I were to eat at your restaurant and become that sick, I would know without a doubt that I had eaten gluten and that you and your restaurant were the culprit. And I would show up at the restaurant the next day (or 48 hours since usually I can't leave the house for that long when I get poisoned) and discuss these ramifications in person. 


Furthermore, the effects of such a poisoning can last many days. Those with full-blown Celiac Disease actually have intestinal damage which can be seen during a scoping procedure following even a slight gluten-ingestion (such as the gluten in a beef base containing Modified Food Starch coming from wheat or barley)... much less a full onslaught from being intentionally poisoned. I am sure that any unsuspecting diner would welcome you into the exam room while they have such a procedure preformed, and you can even have one as well for comparison purposes! 


Lest you think I am being hard on you because I don't understand the stressful nature of your job, my husband is a chef. A really awesome one at that. He has won competitions all over the country and has ACF medals stashed in his glove compartment, cups in the garage, and various drawers all over the house. He teaches morons uninformed chefs like yourself. He judges competitions and tests chefs for their next certification level. What is your ACF certification level? I bet I know. 
When we go out to eat, he helps me decipher menu items under the lens of his experience in kitchens for the past 20 years. He has multiple family members who are gluten-free and has many, many years of experience and I am sure he would gladly come to your restaurant and inform you personally of the culinary malpractice of which you are so boldly admitting. 


Finally, Mr. Cardone, good luck finding employment. Last I checked, a quick "googling" of your name brought up blog posts like this one, articles quoting your facebook rants, and various websites mentioning your ineptness. Not ONE result was a good review, a competition you have won, or a newspaper article singing your praises.


I would recommend an apology, and that you take some continuing education classes on allergen awareness, celiac disease, cooking for those with intolerances, and perhaps good business practices in the electronic/social media age. 

(*Edited* - This news report (the video feed) covers the story well: Colorado News Story )

Thirteen!

My sweet baby girl is 13 today.

She has walked right into "the teen years" as of this morning.
There's no turning back.

It's been coming for awhile... and while I might not always handle the changing tide the very best possible way, my little girl is growing up with our without my consent.

She was so little! Just 6lbs and 12 ounces when she was born! Our smallest baby by far!

I remember finding out I was pregnant with her... and crying to my Granny that I wish Dadums were still here because he would be so excited for another grandbaby.

I still remember taking that tiny little baby and placing her into her carseat for the ride home from the hospital!

I remember how HUGE her 19-month-old "big" brother suddenly became the day she was born!

I remember our first trip out - to Babies R Us to buy her some preemie clothes since she was being swallowed up by every "newborn" outfit we had purchased in varying shades of pink.

I remember timing her feeding and her brother's naptime so that I could fall asleep with her on the couch for an hour or so in the middle of the day!

 I remember when she became a big sister, too.

There was the time I walked into the kitchen and her big brother was sitting on her back giving her a haircut.

I remember on her 2nd birthday when she reached out to touch the flame of the candle on her cake before her Daddy and I could stop her.

I have pictures of her with yellow rubber cleaning gloves on her feet - pretending to be a duck.

There was the sad day that she fell off of the barstool at the kitchen counter and cracked her front tooth in half and we had to get it pulled. I almost had to be restrained at the dentists office.

I remember her playing with her first friends and her first day of school in Colorado Springs!

And I remember worrying when she was very sick and sitting on her chest to squirt medicine down her throat while she screamed and kicked and turned bright red and I remember crying afterwards that I had traumatized her but knowing that the benefit of this medicine would far outweigh that memory.

She had equal parts girly-girl and tom-boy... mani-pedi dates with her Aunt and her Nona, and camping in a tent in the wilderness of Colorado... and she was equally at home in either environment.

And then, the unthinkable happened.
My little girl started getting taller... and smarter... and wiser... and turned from being an adorable little baby girl into a beautiful young woman.

Oh, I wish I could bottle up the stuff that makes her who she is... I would share it with you all... she's just that amazing.

She has a great sense of humor...she's always quick with something to say that makes us laugh.

She is wonderful with little kids... even though she says how much she hates to babysit, she is in high demand!

She somehow navigates the turbulent waters of middle school without getting too much of it on her, and maintains her personality and charm without becoming a clone of the people around her.
She chooses great friends who I gladly welcome into our home because they are really wonderful girls.

I pray for the man she will marry someday... that the Lord is already preparing that boy, that he's growing up in a godly home with parents who love him as much as we love our baby girl. But that boy...he will have to prove himself worthy of her heart because she loves her Daddy and she will be looking for someone as wonderful as he is.

And ...she loves Jesus. She's after HIS heart and that makes me SO proud!

Her baptism day! Aug. 25, 2009

Sweet baby girl, I am blessed to be your Mommy!  I know these years are hard - I've been there before!
I know we don't always handle ourselves perfectly...and sometimes we fight...
but no matter where you go,
no matter what you do,
no matter what happens...
you will ALWAYS be my baby
and I love you more than you could ever possibly understand!
Happy 13th birthday, sweetheart!

Then who?

I don't know what it is.

I don't know why, or rather... why me.

But over the past 2 years of my life, the Lord has broken my heart for His children all over the world.
They need a mommy. They need hugs and kisses and bandaids on barely-scratched owies. They need to play in bubble baths and tease their daddy and "can't-like-it-cantelope" but "love-it-pretzels!" They need to jump on the trampoline with the sprinkler spraying in their faces in the heat of July and take 15 minutes to get bundled up to go out in the snow for 5 minutes. Oh, my heart can't take it. It's just not okay with me that there are so many children out there waiting for what we have. I think about it and I get this pain in the pit of my chest like someone just punched me and knocked the air out of my lungs. It's just NOT okay.

And then I get scared and I say...
"Uhm... Lord? Hi. Yeah, remember last year when we brought home these adorable babies? That made 7 in our house. And, by the way... we don't exactly have unlimited space within these walls."

And he says...
"Whose children are they? Who gave you that house? Who gave you the heart that beats within your chest?"

And I say...
"I know. YOU did. It's all yours anyway...But..."

And He says...
"But? Really?  Child, I put that heart inside YOU because I know YOU will live a life chasing after MY heart. I don't make mistakes."

And I...
I have nothing to say.

Because what can I say??

If the Lord put in my heart to be a mommy to kids who don't have anyone to tuck them in at night...
who am I to say "no thanks."?

What about our house? We don't have any more room! Well... I'm sure we could squeeze another bunk bed in here somewhere if we really wanted to.

What about finances? We probably won't ever be able to take big family vacations...buy cars for their 16th birthdays ... or pay for their full college tuitions... or have big elaborate East-Coast weddings... but imagine Thanksgiving at OUR house! I would trade every family vacation from here until forever if it meant we could be open to bringing more children into our family who need parents!

I don't know, dear bloggy friends...maybe I am insane.

Maybe I am misreading all of this and the whispers into my heart aren't saying "bring them home" as much as "help someone else figure it all out".

Maybe I'm wrong. I've been told that perhaps the calling I am hearing is to "JUST advocate for orphans."
But I doubt it. I will gladly shout from the rooftops about the immense need for families for children, gladly help walk anyone through the process to adopt a child, but I don't think that's the full extent of this "whisper" in my heart.

Or maybe, maybe, just MAYBE... Jesus calls crazy people because He knows that crazy stuff sounds normal to them!

I can relate.

I promise I'm a grown-up.

Keep that in mind as you read further.

My hubby travels a lot for work. 

When he is gone overnight... I have a hard time relaxing enough to fall asleep.

I tend to stay up late...

watching a movie, watching House Hunters International, writing a blog post, chatting with Jamey...

anything but going to bed early and banking a few extra hours of sleep.

I sit in my bed doing whatever I can until I exhaust myself to the point where I can just fall asleep quickly.

I can relate to my babies.

I'm hyper-vigilant.

My youngest two are "hyper-vigilant". In the adoption world, this means a child who has dealt with trauma in the past, and who now finds it nearly impossible to relax - especially at bed/nap times. 

This hasn't always been the case. He used to be one of the easiest of the little three to put to bed. Just lately though, he has become very difficult to put to bed at night. He goes right to sleep at nap time, it's just bed time that causes stress. He sticks out his bottom lip, makes the biggest frown I've ever seen, his eyes get even bigger, and he starts to cry. It's so hard. I don't want to let him cry since he isn't trying to manipulate me. At some point over the past couple of weeks, someone flipped a bed time switch in his brain. I don't know what's wrong!

Then tonight...

he used a word!

When I was bribing him offering benefits for compliance, I suggested that we can go ride bikes in the morning! He loves to roll down the hill on his "bike", so I thought it might get his mind off of things.

He looked at me like I was nuts... stuck that lip out EVEN farther and said 

"No! No bike... dark! Scary!"  ...and he pointed to the window.

Ah HA! The darkness is the instigator. 

Poor baby boy.

I told him he doesn't have to be scared anymore... that he is safe in his room, in our house, and that Mommy is here to take care of him. Then I grabbed a blankie, covered up... and laid down next to my baby until he went to sleep. 

Because, after all, I know how it is.

Winter Jam / Holt child sponsorship night

I. Am. EXHAUSTED.

Let me just start by saying that I am officially OLD.

"Old" as in "why does it have to be so LOUD in here?!?"
and "I think my ear drums are bleeding...". That kind of "old".

Last night I took my two oldest kiddos and two of their friends and we went to the Winter Jam concert here in Nashville.

If you happen to be just super un-cool and you have no idea what Winter Jam is... it's an annual concert that travels all over the USA with many of the top bands in Christian music.
Not Christian music like Amy Grant and Twila Paris.
Christian music like LOUD, rock/rap/pop music.
Newsong, The David Crowder Band, Newsboys, Francesca Battistelli, Kutless, KJ 52, Sidewalk Prophets, Chris August, and the very frightening - Red.

So, I figured... heck, I listen to christian radio... I know of most of these bands... and besides, I can help get kids sponsors which helps keep kids in their birth families... win/win.

So I signed up to volunteer.

This meant we got to get to the concert 2 hours early, wait in line at the VIP entrance, and then wear this awesome yellow vest.

And no, there are no photos of me WEARING this vest.

You're welcome.

So, my kids and their friends were super excited because they got to get in early and find seats. 

They chose to sit on the third row - right next to the stage. 

Super close.

View from our seats. SUPER close.

I looked through the stack of "my kids" - the 5 envelopes in my pocket. I prayed for them and looked through the endless rows of other children needing sponsors.

Crazy, right?? This was one of three long sets of tables in 

ONE area of the venue.

So, not being able to just sit and wait...

I decided to go hang out over at the main table on the floor.

There weren't many people working over there, so it seemed like a good place to be.

Given my fancy yellow vest... no one really asks questions about who you are and why you are there.

At one point I went to go find some coffee and wound up in the backstage area. Ooops.

This is obviously BEFORE they opened the doors to general tickets.

The concert was a sell-out with 16,000+ people in attendance. 

16 THOUSAND. People. In one place. 

I kept thinking "oh dear Lord, what would happen if there were an emergency??"

But then, I'm old..

So, hanging out in the center-court area of the arena, right under the guy with the huge camera, I realized that I was standing right next to famous people that I didn't know I was standing next to. 

Case in point:

Tony Nolan - pastor/speaker, 5 feet away.

I'm so famous by proximity.

Tony Nolan wrote a book called Hurt Healer. He spoke about the pain from his childhood, being born to a mentally unstable/prostitute mother, living in an abusive home till he was 3 at which point he was adopted (at a "blue light special" rate of $200) into a family that further abused him. He talks about how God had a bigger plan to redeem his life and how satan wanted to do anything possible to keep him from that plan. He has also adopted a daughter from China. I wasn't a huge fan of the particular terminology he used in describing his own adoption experiences, but to a mostly positive-adoption-terminology-ignorant crowd, he got the point across.

He was a good speaker for this particular demographic for sure. 

As for our Holt sponsorship mission? I believe our final count was around 450 kids sponsored last night! Given the 16,000 people in attendance, not a huge percentage, but when you take out the kids who can't really make those decisions for themselves... I'm happy 450 kids have sponsors to help them get the medical and educational things they need.

And me??

Well, I noticed abnormally large amounts of cleavage on many of the girls in attendance.

(pun intended)

What is going on with girls?? I mean, at what point are you getting dressed to go to a Christian concert and you say "is this enough cleavage, or not enough cleavage?" I mean, some of the outfits I saw were outright offensive to me as a woman, much less offensive to me as a mother of boys. Put some freaking clothes on, girls! Women have fought for years to be taken seriously, and you are sending us back in time 70 years with your flagrant disregard for your own modesty. 

(and no, I don't have a photo to prove it. You're welcome.)

Oh, and my hearing came back today.

And the kids had a great time!

See? Doesn't she seem to be having fun?

The one in the front is mine,
 the one behind him might as well be too.

This was the line we had to wait in outside.
Just the VIP line. Seriously.