In plotting my baby’s road map to college, it occurred to me that she could use a backup sport. This kid may not make it on our high school’s highly competitive volleyball team.

I decided on golf. Why? Because it is better than badminton or bowling.

I offered golf lessons to the baby.

“Golf!? Is that even a real sport? I don’t think it is a real sport.” said the baby, totally unimpressed.

“Of course it is a real sport! It is even a big sport! They play these games on TV all the time.” me, defensive of the choice I made for her benefit.

“It is so boring to watch!” baby.

“It must be much more fun to play than to watch. Lots of people play golf.” me.

“Hey, how about we learn to play golf together?” me, fixated on achieving my goal.

“You are on! I am going to kick your butt at golf!” baby, obnoxiously approving the plan.

The baby and I signed up for a package of 5 semi private lessons at a local golf course.

Two lessons and two rounds of driving ranging practices later, I was the undisputed better golfer.

The baby was not pleased, but not surrendering, and waved a fist at me, “NEXT time!… I will kick your butt.”

Last Sunday, after hitting 3 buckets of golf balls with the baby at a driving ranging, I was nursing the sore muscle on my right arm, and a new callus on my left hand.

“And you don’t think golf is a real sport…my arm is so sore.” me.

The baby popped up from the sofa, arms on her waist, chin pointed at me, and said, “ What is wrong with you! I did rock climbing for 2 hours yesterday, then volleyball for 2 hours, then played golf with you today, and I am not sore at all.”

Whoever said that girls are all sugar and spice, neglected to add that this blend of sugar and spice turned into a bag of sassy when aged.

I wobbled my arms at her, “I have these noodle arms!”

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I had an exceptional summer…. I didn’t get to go anywhere fun this summer.

I spent the whole summer driving my kids to their summer job, summer school, and summer camps. Actually, that is not all I did. I pestered my teen all summer long to get her driver’s license.

I thought all teens will leap into action on the day that they are just old enough to drive. But my teen allowed her 15 and half birthday slip past without making a peep.

“Don’t you want to drive?” I asked, driving her to school one morning.

“No, not really.” teen, shrugging her shoulders.

WHAT?!

“Why not?!” me.

“I don’t need to. You drive me everywhere I want to go.” teen.

Hum….The kid is wise. Why bother with driving when you have a 5-star rated personal chauffeur at your disposal?

“But I want to retire from driving you around!!” me.

“Oh! I will try to get my license then.” teen.

That was a conversation 6 months ago.

Nag, nag, nag, pester, pester, pester.

I made an appointment for my teen to take her written test last Wednesday at our local DMV office.

I hate going to the DMV office. A trip to the DMV office always feels like stepping into a tiny communist country run by uncaring dictators.

We stood in the line for people with appointments.

A stone faced DMV lady waved us to her station. I promptly produced our application and birth certificate, a required certificate for teens to take the written test.

“I need documentation that shows proof of address.” DMV lady.

I had called and looked online, nowhere did it say that we need to bring proof of address documentation.

I scrambled to see if I had anything with me. Hey, my driver’s license has my address on it.

“We don’t accept driver’s license as a valid form of proof of address.” DMV lady.

WHAT?! The DMV won’t accept my driver’s license. They issue these things.

“Oh, I have my vehicle registration in my car, that has my address on it.” me.

“Go get it, then get back in line.” DMV lady.

We got back in line with my car registration paper in hand.

I hand her everything, along with my registration card.

“We need two forms of proof of address documentation.” DMV lady.

“Oh, I also have my driver’s license….” me.

“We don’t accept driver’s license.” DMV lady.

“Well, I don’t have anything else with my address on it.” me.

“You can go home, and get another documentation.” DMV lady hand me back everything, trying to wave me away.

“What about my appointment? Will you still honor my appointment?” me.

“Your appointment is at 2:40, you have half an hour, you need to be back by 3:10” DMV lady, waving the next people to approach.

I needed Superman to fly me home and be back by 3:10.

MADDENING.

I had set a goal of getting her driving written test done before school. School was starting on Monday!

I drove out of the DMV parking lot, turned into the next street, and saw: BANK OF AMERICA.

Capitalist to the rescue…

I swung into the B of A parking lot, ran into the office, and asked a friendly personal banker to print me a banking statement.

I was back in line at the DMV office, and got to our DMV lady station by 3:07.

We made it!

A short while later, we were called into another window. Then to the station to get the photo ID picture taken, then on to the testing area.

I went to sitting area and waited.

20 minutes later. Two teens came out of the testing area, and informed their parents that they did not pass the written test.

You can fail this test? I thought this is one of those tests where everyone can pass.

Oh no, I can’t stomach another round of this torture.

I spotted my teen coming out, looking long faced. A sinking feeling assaulted me.

“How was the test?” I asked.

“I passed.” teen answered looking unhappy.

We waited around some more, and finally got our driver’s permit.

“Congratulations!! ! You can now take driving lessons.” me, inside the car, very happy.

“Cool.” teen.

“Why do you look unhappy?” me.

“My picture ID is terrible! When can I change that picture?” teen, looking at me all sad eyed.

Ha, ha, I can’t wait to see it.

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Sometimes, there are perks that come with chronic diseases, like a membership to a very exclusive and impressive club.

Last weekend, my 12 year-old and I descended to Pasadena, CA to attend Celiac Disease Foundation’s National Conference and Gluten Free Expo.

Upon checking in at the registration, in addition to our name badges, the smiling staff handed us two gigantic bags filled with gluten free treats. We were sad that we only had room to bring one bag home on our plane ride.

The conference hall greeted us with wonderful displays of 100% gluten free breakfast buffet.

We cheered that the food options were not limited to protein and eggs. No! They had pancakes, donuts, bread, and bagels, too.

My baby took a plate, walked from station to station, tried to figure out how to eat the most of everything, and regretted having only one stomach.

Celiac people (and their care takers) from all over the country congregated here to attend this conference.

It was very easy to socialize with other attendees. A certain flawed gene made us all close allies, and turned strangers into quick friends.

At 8:30AM, the conference kicked off right on time. A string of keynote speakers from the medical profession, to scientists in research, to PhD’s in biotech, to nutrition specialists took the podium to deliver the latest findings in Celiac research, gluten free food, and the path to a cure.

Why is Celiac disease a disease, and not an allergy? Celiac is in fact an autoimmune disease. When protein from wheat, barley, and rye entered into a celiac patient’s body, the patient’s immune system will attack it and cause damage to the patient’s small intestine, rendering it unable to absorb nutrients. There are currently no cure or medication for celiac disease, the only treatment is to follow a lifelong dietary restriction of eating gluten free.

So, it makes sense to host a gluten free expo next to the conference with the most ferocious gluten free eaters in the country.

The following day, the baby and I spent hours walking booth to booth to sample the various gluten free treats: cupcakes, brownies, pastas, bagels, donuts, pizza, pot stickers, bread, sausages, soup, gourmet sauces, and even ice cream.

“Mom, we got to do this again next year. This is the best gluten free buffet ever!” 12 year-old said with two thumbs up.

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No, I did not fall off the earth, just super swamped with the holiday fares on the business and the home front.

Christmas is only 2 days away, I hope you all have your presents under the trees, holiday meals and parties all under wrap. I sort of do.

I did carve out some time and hosted a Christmas party for my kids and their friends. We had lots of kids over, all teens and tweens.

They are old enough to entertain themselves. I just had to prepare food and order pizza. The only activity I provided was a gingerbread house competition.

The night before the party, I put together 4 gingerbread houses, and loaded the table with all kinds of candies, sprinkles, and frosting in red, green, blue, and white.

In honor of my celiac child, these gingerbread houses are all gluten free!!

The kids broke into teams of 3 or 4, and set to design and decorate their gingerbread house. They were creative and competitive, and came up with 4 uniquely designed delicious homes.

As the parents came to pick up their children, they were invited into our home and got to judge these beautiful decorated edible houses.

Guess which of these is the winner?

Merry Christmas! Wish all of you a blessed 2016.

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I suffered an epic failure in a baking project recently and severely damaged my reputation in the kitchen.

See this puddle of sadness…

It was supposed to be a Nutella Tart! It’s main purpose wasn’t to be food, it was aiming to be my baby’s science project.

The science project was called “The Incredible Edible Cell,” where my 12 year-old was tasked to make a model of a cell using only things that can be eaten.

Since the baby has celiac disease, we decided that her edible cell must be gluten-free.

The Nutella Tart sounded like a winner, because it is the baby’s favorite food. But soon we discovered a flaw. This tart needed to be refrigerated. In just 90 minutes at room temperature, the tart turned into soup and allowed our cell particle representatives and toothpick labels to swim or drown in the liquid.

Last minute, we needed a plan B!!!

I found this in the pantry.

Hmmm…what if I could use the entire package and bake it into one giant round cookie??

Yippee!! It came out of the oven beautifully; completely intact with not even a crack.

I turned the big cookie over to the baby. It was her project, so she got to design and build the edible cell.

She took out the bag of gluten-free candies we bought earlier, along with colorful icings, and set to work.

The kid had a blast!!!

Who wouldn’t? This project was fun.

Best of all, when she brought the project to school, after presenting the project, she got to eat it with her classmates and friends.

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