eating wheat and other things.

About a week ago I started gradually introducing wheat to Carly's intestines.

Not gonna lie, I was nervous.

{In case you don't know why, its because I have Celiac Disease, and its hereditary, so she could have it too, though I really really hope she doesn't}.

Our Kville pediatrician said to go ahead and go for it at 12 months, but 12 months fell right during our move. Then after our move we had to settle in, figure out insurance, find a pediatrician.

Finally we got that all figured out.

So it was time.

The first morning I decided to give her wheat, I stood there thinking like "What do wheat-eaters even eat? What should I give her?" Its been too long.

I started with Honey-Nut Cheerios.

She has since had all sorts of things.

Gradually.

And doesn't seem to be showing any signs of a problem.

Of course neither did I until I was a teenager.

So we'll just take what we get.

For now I'm just grateful.

Our little wheat-eater seems to have picked up a cold.

I hate that.

I wish more than anything I could teach her to blow her nose.

Just so she could feel the relief of being able to breath clearly, if just for a few moments.

Hope it doesn't last long.

But it has gotten so so cold here. Like as cold as I think Kville ever got.

And its only November.

Carly's little cotton pants aren't going to cut it this winter.

We are gonna have to upgrade to fleece.

But doesn't she look de-lish in her hat?

She actually kept it on today.

Probably because her cold zapped all her strength.

~

Yes, Carly is snuggling with a dishtowel in the above picture.

Its her new thing.

She walks around clinging to it like its a security blanket.

Which, I suppose, it is.

And she sleeps with one too.

She reaches for it when I put her down and when I give it to her she holds it up to her cheek and closes her eyes.

Sweetest thing.

Even though its totally weird.

I just make sure she always has a clean one, because she has been known to grab wet ones off the kitchen counter.

~

Oh, yeah.

And she is a total chocoholic.

Don't know where she got that from.

Today she cried and cried reaching for a few remaining pieces from Halloween that she wanted to eat for breakfast.

All I gave her was a lousy banana and cereal.

I wasn't budging on that one though.

Only mommy gets chocolate for breakfast.

~

Oh, I didn't even tell you yet.

Chris's masters thesis got approved for publication!

He will be an officially published author.

It got approved by a journal that accepts only 15% of articles submitted to it.

And it was approved after only one round of revisions.

He is such a smarty pants, I'm telling you.

I'm very proud.

~

And me?

My week has been spent primary with Taylor Swift and The Boy in the Striped Pajamas.

Loving me some Taylor.

Carly knows the beginning of "Mine" and every time it comes on I say "Carly, its our song!".

She giggles and promptly starts dancing.

We have the same taste in music.

And The Boy in the Striped Pajamas?

I have to tell you, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Last night Chris and I were up way too late talking about the Nazis and the Holocaust and how Germans have reacted to it all (he served his mission there). Its such a fascinating, albeit sickening, aspect of world history. Something that has always held my interest. I remember reading The Diary of Anne Frank when I was young, and many other books on the subject.

I really want to go to Germany with Chris.

Just the two of us.

See where he served, see the beauty of the country, but also witness the history.

Dachau was in his mission, though his mission president didn't allow the missionaries to visit (which is understandable). But I would like to go there someday with him.

I'd like to think it will be "sooner" rather than later (like 10 years instead of 30?).

Anyways.

The one thing that I found fascinating about Striped Pajamas was how it was through the eyes of a young German boy. He had no idea what was truly going on on the other side of the barbed wire fence. No idea what his father did, no idea the terror his little friend was living through. And the author never comes out and says what is happening because the boy telling the story doesn't know. Its our knowledge of history that makes the book make sense. Its heart-wrenching in that way. That you understand what is going on but the boy doesn't.

Really, a good read.

My favorite lines are the very last lines of the book:

"Of course all this happened a long time ago and nothing like that could ever happen again. Not in this day and age."

What a powerful point, because this wasn't that long ago.

60 years? Nothing in the grand scheme of things.

That such evils occurred so recently in a country that was so developed.

Its beyond understanding.

But that's a whole different debate altogether.

Chris and I talked about how lucky we are to be born when and where we were.

How even though school is hard and motherhood is hard and finances are tight, we never fear for our lives. We never go to sleep at night starving. We go to Church without resistance and we walk the streets without fear.

I'm very grateful indeed.

See, I told you it was a good read.

~

I hope you survived that tangent, because look how cute this girl is:

Getting some reading of her own done in the corner of her room behind the rocker.

I came in to put her pjs on and was like "Carly? Where are you?"

I could pretty much eat her.

~

xoxo.