Planning a Gluten Free Birthday Party

It's that time of year again.  The crazies set in, and on top of all the science experiments, girl scout cookies, homework, classes, and "finally, the big holidays are over, let's put as much focus as we can on the little ones" projects...we have two birthdays to celebrate!

With food allergies and chronic health woes, the birthday parties are more challenging than one might suspect!  Once upon a time, we started birthday talk with "What will we serve?"  We dreamt of cake, we agonized over appetizers.  Now...the food aspect can quickly overwhelm us.  What will we serve?  What will the guests be willing to eat?  How will it taste?  How much will it cost?  Do we dare even try to feed them?  (And should we warn them about the grapeseed oil and tapioca starch?)

Nevermind all that.  We've found a much better approach.  The kids have informed me that they hate the food aspect of parties.  They never even liked "real" cake that much anyways, and even though it makes their friends crazy, their friends don't care much about cake they only expect it because cake and birthday parties are synonymous.  With that in mind, we now start our plans with a theme.  This year, Bumblebee chose a garden theme.  Of course, her birthday's in March and one year it threatened to snow for the first time in over 20 years...so this was just another excuse for us to pull out the creativity caps and plan a birthday party to remember!
The first step is to design invitations.  She wanted to hand out invitations this year, instead of just emailing them.  So we pulled out my scrapbooking papers, and traced out hexagons, added petals and cut them out.  She wrote the party details on each petal, with a big "It's a Party!" in the middle, and we folded the petals down to a pretty flower packet.
We started the party with a craft.  She didn't like the planters we found in our price range, and the birdhouse kits didn't look very practical.  But she fell in love with the little "Everything Grows with Love" signs, and then I stumbled on some bug themed magnets on clearance at Target.  Cost: $6 for 2 crafts for a dozen kids.  (Plus extra glue and paintbrushes)
After crafts, it was time to really get the kids excited.  Besides, our favorite part of any birthday party we throw is the treasure hunt.  (and who doesn't like hidden treasure?)  I told the girls that I'd invited a garden fairy to give them some treasures, but she couldn't be found.  She'd left a note leading them to the first clue...which was another note.  All in all, there were 12 clues...leading them around the house and neighborhood in search of Gardenia.  The final note apologized for missing them, but there was a fairy emergency and told them that the treasure could be found in the rose garden.  Since it hadn't been there earlier in the hunt...it had a nice, magical touch.  The treasure was a little gardening kit and jumprope, and this was the big party expenditure.  (Actually, it was again quite inexpensive...I believe the treasure cost was around $16 total.)
The hunt left everyone starving.  The food was definitely not your classic party fare, but we had planned a little carrot patch out of hummus dip which was deemed adorable and although the kids didn't eat much hummus, the carrots and even a few heads of broccoli vanished.  We also put out some sunny orange slices and apple wedges, which disappeared in a hurry.
The highlight, of course, was the cake.  Instead of a "regular" cake, Bumblebee designed little loaf cakes frosted with chocolate glaze and decorated with lollipop flowers, a pinwheel and a dye free gummy worm.  The cakes were a little well done around the edges, and denser than the kids were used to.  But there were no complaints...and the gummy worms won lots of brownie points (Thank you surfsweets!)
At this point the kids were good to go, and would have been perfectly happy to be set loose in the yard for the last 15 minutes or so.  However, Bumblebee had wanted to play a few games so we rallied the guests. First, we played Pass The Flower, which consists of kids sitting in a circle and passing a fabric flower to the sound of Disney tunes.  The person left holding the flower when the music stops is "out". 
Then we played a unique party game that we called "Seed, sun, flower"  We chose a caller (birthday Bumblebee) and she called commands.  On Seed, they crouched; on Sun the stretched like a flower to the sun and on "Flower" they hopped as if being picked.  This seemed to be the favorite, and half the guests wanted to keep playing when I suggested that they take the jumpropes outside if they wanted any outside time before parents arrived.

The best news is the kids were all dragged away protesting.  The sign of a truly successful party: no one wants to go home! 

March comes into our household like a lion...filled with school projects, girl scout cookies (that half of us can't eat), a bunch of birthday parties interspersed with "Ugh, how can I have the flu again?!?" and of course, the promise of spring.

This year my husband is dutifully clearing our tiny yard. He was motivated by the prospect of Penguin's birthday party, a gaggle of tween girls giggling, running and generally wreaking havoc frightened him.

Luckily the party went off without a hitch (well, okay, unless you count me waking up with Penguin's flu two days beforehand.) Thankfully, my parents stepped in to take the girls to a "can't miss" event the day before; and with the support of my diligent husband and whining kids, the rest of the house was orderly, the table set, treasure hunt clues hidden and a gluten free cake baked and iced well before anyone arrived. They all asked for seconds, and even thirds, on the cake so it must not have come out too "gluten free".

Anyways...back to my musings...

The garden. Well; the wannabee garden. Our funky shaped yard that has spots of grass, areas of dirt, and a large square of cement. We weed, mow, and rearrange as we endeavor to determine once and for all WHERE the sun hits the longest. That's where vegetables have the best chance of survival, we think. And forget aesthetics. We want produce. We don't even want massive amounts of produce. Just a few simple plants.
Successful plants.

I'm going to turn this brown thumb of mine green. (Which may take an awful lot of determination, given the dead cactus on my windowsill.) Said dead cactus was removed for the birthday party. Which was more successful than any of my gardening attempts to date have been.

I want to do it for me. Sure, I want to cut the grocery bill a bit. And I love the idea of walking out into the garden and harvesting dinner. (Although I worry about having the energy to prepare it after harvesting.) I want to lower our impact on the environment by reducing our trips to the store. And I want...I want the kids to know where food comes from. I want them to get their hands dirty, and stop panicking when they see a bug, and to realize the full circle of life. I want them to experience the satisfaction of growing what's on their plate.

And I'm hopeful that Ms. B (whom I will soon dub BumbleB or HoneyB) will be more willing to eat a variety of foods if she actually grows them. (What can I say, I'm an optimist)

But most of all, I want to walk outside and see plants growing, real plants, real green leaves that we're nourishing. The sight of life will do more for all of our souls than the food itself, I think.

We've gardened before. A few years ago, we tightened our belts and spent our tax refund on all sorts of garden stuff. We were determined to make it work, and it almost did.

But just as the seeds were poking out of the ground, and the sunflowers were turning their heads to the sun, there was a knock on the door. To make a long story short, the garden didn't survive (nor did many of the tools) and it soured us on even trying again for a very long time.

However, we have a new landlord now, and a host of new allergies along with a bit more energy than we had a few years ago. Our confidence has had a chance to recover, and youngest does have the start of a green thumb that I want to cultivate.

So maybe...just maybe...we'll try...I think we'll start with sweet potatoes...

An everything-free party! (except for fun)

Yesterday heralded my soon to be 7 year old's birthday bash. It's a big event. Turning a new year older. Holding up an extra finger when someone wants to know how old you are. Seeing your friends. And hey, cake!

She planned carefully. She designed posters. She drew pictures. She poured over party catalogues. We pondered the fact that although last year we found no Tinkerbell merchandise for her Tinkerbell tea party, there are at least 3 fairy designs this year. But no Webkinz; the topic of choice this year.

Invariably, my girls are a year ahead of the game. From Horses to Unicorns to Olympics to Harry Potter, we have to use ingenuity only to find 6 months later, our demand has finally produced supply. And by then, the girls are off into some other new and exciting trend. Next year, there will be Webkinz everything. And they'll be ho-hum about it.

Anyways...My rule for a low stress party is that we can't poison anyone.

It's a strict rule. And not even Mommy's health can be risked by dangerous normal food. Especially not Mommy's health. The birthday child is important, but who takes care of them? And who makes sure each guest goes home with the right parent? That the walls don't collapse?
That's right. Mom. And she can't do it from bed.

So, the requisite martyr-mom attitude must go out the window. Cake is corn free, gluten free, potato free, etc. Penguin deserves to feel at home in her own home; and why on Earth would I bake for one kid but not the other? Of course, the cake must be dairy free, too. And since nuts are a potentially serious reaction...no nuts allowed. This does create some increased stress for me before hand. The main issue? There's no back up. If my homemade cake does not turn out well; I have to bake another one. There's no last minute race to the grocery store for a powdered sugar icing frosted confection. No fall back plan. Sink or swim, the baking must turn out okay or guests will go hungry. Period.

After our own family; we start to consider guests nutritional needs.

For Miss B that isn't too hard. Her friends don't seem to have any allergies, just finnicky food ideals. That does make being a hostess slightly more challenging. Many a playdate has involved the dramatic sigh of a pint-sized guest accompanied by the breathy remark "Don't you guys just have something normal?" (Pardon me, I thought carrots and apples and grapes WERE normal.)

At any rate...I don't want them to go home from a PARTY grumbling. I have managed to perfect a few recipes that I feel good about serving. The kids are supposed to choose one; but Miss B chose something less than perfect. Still, my kids devoured it and I served chocolate chip cookies (homemade, delicious, perfected, "almost normal" as described by my brother) to the balkers. They asked to bring some home to their siblings, which can't be a bad thing.

We also served "Kinz Kebobs" which were skewers of California grown strawberries and Hondurian Cantaloupe (I tried to find something else local, I really did. But she turned up her nose, she's 7 and well...I haven't truly started that whole local-vore thing that I'd love to implement, and will totally jump on as soon as a tapioca farm opens next door.) Those were a big hit. You just can't miss with fruit on a palm tree stick.

The kids entertained themselves in a Webkinz Arcade, which was essentially a balloon labeled "Zingoz Bounce"; Silly Six Pins (A loud-electronic game that gets little use but the kids love) dubbed "Kinz Pinz" and a box labelled "Wishing Well 2" where the kids could earn prizes by pulling out matching plastic fruit. The concept was lost on them, they had a blast anyways and many of them just collected prizes. I feel bad that it wasn't more evenly distributed; but, no one cried, they were all too busy screaming in delight. That's a good thing, I think.

The Arcade madness was followed by a treasure hunt to find Arte. Those with kinz experience know that Arte is the Curio shop manager who sends you treasure hunting. Our hunt culminated in the discovery of...well; rocks. Special rocks. Designed to be broken open and treasure unearthed. Our treasures? Lollipop rings, mardi gras beads and charm bracelet kits. (Please note that the rocks did harbor danger in the form of glutenous FLOUR. They were broken open outside; under the supervision of the non-Celiac parent. They were also created by the non Celiac in an off residence kitchen.)

Then we sat down and made bracelets. Luckily it all sort of worked out. The kids were not into making sure everything was even and fair...they were mostly into "I found this, I'm keeping this." Thankfully, I bought things by the dozen and there were only 8 kids total, including Penguin who is only a guest by proxy. So it really did seem to work out. I'm the only one who worried that some of the kids got slighted. (Unless they complained in private.)

I was told that the gem hunt was the most fun EVER. Good news. Things wrapped up with the unwrapping of gifts just barely before 3 pm; when the first parent came knocking to collect their offspring. And dh and I collapsed on the sofa with my parents and my brothers family thinking collectively "We survived!"

Miss B is happy. But dealing with that infamous after party "let down" feeling. After all, the next big event seems a LONG WAYS OFF. And her sister's upcoming limelight (Second march birthday) followed by her cousin's first birthday (3rd March Birthday) is not helping things much. Luckily, we got the party over with before her actual day of birth; so we can keep the celebration rolling through the week.

The most frustrating thing in the world...

Is when you have successfully adapted a cake recipe. And you write it down. And you put it somewhere safe.

And then, when you've been craving said cake and there is a really good reason to make one, and you find a recipe that's in your handwriting. You make the recipe, thinking something seems wrong but you don't know exactly what. And when it comes out of the oven, it becomes apparent that it is nothing at all like the cake that you have been craving like crazy.

And you can't buy something similar. And when you try to find out if you wrote the recipe on the computer, you realize that you did not because your husband re organized all of your writing. In fact, his junior high papers are now mixed in with your carefully sorted-by-disk articles. Not to mention everything that you've taken hours and days and months to research about allergies and manufacturers, and...oh, yes, recipes.

And you can't just pull up a new recipe. This was converted from one that you stumbled across once that looked convertible, and took 3 tries.

You just wasted rice flour that costs $4 per pound; plus shipping. So you'll serve it to the family, who will enjoy it, but it still won't be that moist, yummy gingery cake that you've been craving and will, apparently, continue to crave until you find a similar recipe. And manage to properly convert it to gluten free/casein free/corn free. (Most gluten free recipes contain xanthan or guar gum, while guar is okay for some with corn allergies it's a major faux-pas for anyone with IBS. And why flirt with danger?)

I know the original handwritten notes are on a piece of paper I had just 2 days ago; that I used to share a different "cheese-less cheese cracker" with someone. So it has to be here somewhere. But, that doesn't make it any less disappointing.