Monday, May 23, 2016

Parenting from the Food Allergy End


I stared at the allergist, watching him circle and highlight just how many things my 9-month old had tested positive for. It wasn't that I didn't believe him, it was that I already knew without needing confirmation.

 
I wasn't the one who asked for proof, it was the insurance company who wanted to know the reasons for the numerous office visits. I had seen the symptoms and conditions, I had been witness to them for almost a year. My child had been fidgety, uncomfortable, and in between bouts of diarrhea, vomiting, wheezing, eczema and a torturous tight drum of a stomach which his pediatrician had passed off as colic.

 
I knew what I was seeing was so much more than the shoebox category of colic, but few listened to me. What do I know, I'm just the one who watched him more than anyone else. As the physician underlined the test results with his finger, I found myself finally breathing free. His symptoms were real and everything people around me were telling me, that "Your baby is just one of those hard ones,” was wrong. 


My son wasn't hard or difficult. What he was, was scratchy, itchy, stuffy, with painful gas and reflux and yes, of course he cried a lot, but it was to be held. Because it was only in being close to me, skin to skin, that he could finally relax into a state loose enough to override his body reacting to any number of foods or environmental conditions from the day.


As I watched the doctor count out 18+ allergens, shaking his head back and forth, relief filled my body. Because now we could get started in making my son's world one without reaction.

 
***

I began with removing food colors and dyes. His eczema vanished. Next, I eliminated the food allergens of dairy, egg, banana, rice, nuts, in my diet since I was breastfeeding him. We had same-day relief from his explosive diarrhea and projectile vomiting.

 
I kept a calendar and noted how he did as I removed food, polyester clothing, scented laundry detergent and pink-tinted baby lotion from his life. He no longer pulled at his skin and we continued with success at every turn.

 
I was thrilled and empowered and as my son gained weight and smiled, I felt reward after reward. That was from what I could control inside my home. As we ventured out to play groups and neighborhood picnics at the park, I soon saw how this was not enough for others.

 
“Allergies? How awful! I couldn't handle that if I were you.”

 
“Oh my gosh. That's the last thing I'd need. Being a mom is hard enough!”

 
“I am so glad I'm not you. How do you do it?”

And the one that would make me grab the diaper bag and head for the door, "Aren't you scared he'll die?"

 
I was surprised to find that this was not an uncommon practice from other parents: to forget to be encouraging, helpful, compassionate, less knock the wind out of you. Whenever someone would ask, "Do you know if he'll be like this forever?" and I answered back, “We're just taking it one day at a time,” they were surprised and looked at me as if I didn't grasp the significance of food allergy.


Oh, I got it. And I lived it. I had just decided that all my plate could hold, was “one day at a time.”

 
Sometimes the parents caught themselves and tried to reel their words back in, “I mean, I have a cousin who is allergic to Brazil nuts. She seems to be Ok.” Other times they thought they were comforting me with, “I guess there are worse things.”


"There are worse things," provides no comfort. I don't want to live life with, “At least I have this and not that,” as if comparing suffering presumes the quality of others' lives below that of ours.

 
***

After we had changed my diet along with my son's, he went from a clenched-fist and leg-kicking infant to one with a serene and calm temperament. He still sought the comfort of my arms, because it was here, in his cries of physical discomfort, that our bond was formed. He had learned to trust me, and I was there when he cried out for something. Together we had figured things out.


He was always a beautiful baby and I remember how his mood became one of light and joy once we knew what to remove from our diets and environment. The way he had been tagged as “difficult” by others who had seen him twist and cry red-faced had been only through seeing his pain, his stomach distress, not anything else.

***

"What a beautiful boy," a parent at a play group said to me when my son was 15 months old. She was new to the group and not aware of any of our history. “Has he always been this happy?” she wanted to know.


“We had a few issues with food allergies in the beginning that the doctors thought was colic. But we've figured it out now.” I looked over at my son, who sits chewing on his toy in the center of a blanket with other children. He gurgles and blows spit bubbles, kicking his feet happily. It was true, his beautiful smile was always there. He grinned back at us to prove me right.



Raising a child with food allergies takes work. It's not easy. Now that he's a teen, he  confesses he wishes he didn't have allergies. I let him vent, because he's right. Life would be simpler to be able to eat anything without a second thought. There are times I wish the same thing, when I read about people going for ice cream or Friday night pizza. But our reality is different from that of others, and we've found our own way without the presence of certain foods.



People ask me if he'll ever outgrow his allergies. My hopes are different. I hope for him a level of command of his allergy. An attitude of assurance and competence in how we are able to handle our lives with vigilance and knowledge. I want him to pass this strength on to his children should they have food allergies of their own. I want him to instill in them a sense of determination and triumph when it comes to living with food allergy.


When I meet a new mom of food allergy through my food allergy groups, I make sure I offer them my life experience. I tell them I know how overwhelming it feels at first, but I make sure we have a moment for me to say, “Know this will take work, and know that sometimes you'll feel how unfair the circumstances can be. Your child is counting on you to not feel like this is stopping them from living or from doing the things they dream of, so empower them with accountability and belief in their knowledge. Instruct them on preparation and have them hands-on with their own care from the start. And tell them you wouldn't trade them or anything about them, for anything else in the world.” I tell them that last part is important.
 

"Mom, what's wrong with me?” my son asked when he was four years old and we were packing a separate treat for him to take to a birthday party. I answered honestly, “There is nothing wrong with you. If you're asking me why we need our own food and we read food labels, it's because of food allergy. But there is nothing wrong with you. There never has been. You are perfect.”

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Friday, May 20, 2016

Parenting in a New Language



I don't want to say visit.

I don't want to have him only home for awhile.

I don't want to say goodbye after not enough time.

I don't want to until I'm blue in the face, and then I realize, it's me that has to do the growing up.

---
When you think it's your kids that need to stay the same, it's actually you that has to change.

I am proud to be on Grown and Flown with a collaborative piece with Peyton Price: "What Having A Kid Away in College is Truly Like."

"There’s nothing more discomfiting than a good long look at your college kid’s changing face. Is that a new haircut? Does she wear her glasses all day now? Where did he get that shirt? Is he filling out? Since when does her skin look so good? SOMETHING’S DIFFERENT [read more here]... "

 
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Thursday, May 19, 2016

Best Advice in Six



I'm throwing myself a book party.

Along with Whoopi Goldberg, Elizabeth Gilbert, Maria Shriver, and more.

We're all contributors to THE BEST ADVICE IN SIX WORDS: Writers Famous and Obscure on Love, Sex, Money, Friendship, Family, Work, and more, edited by Larry Smith, Six Words from SMITH Magazine.

I'm the "writers obscure" but my six words of advice can be found on page 57.

You can purchase THE BEST ADVICE IN SIX WORDS on amazon, BN.com, and also at just about every book store.

This carefully curated poignant collection of universal wisdom, life lessons, and caution thrown to the wind six words at a time will make a great graduation gift and also a great gift to yourself.

SIX WORDS is "The book that will thrill minimalists and inspire maximalists." ~Vanity Fair
and I'd add, anyone who loves to think, ponder, contemplate, and smile.

To celebrate, tell me your best advice in six. What's Your Six Word Advice? Leave your wisdom here and I'll give away a copy to a random winner. 

With 1,000 contributions from celebrities like Molly Ringwald, Whoopi Goldberg, Lemony Snicket, and Gary Shteyngart, as well as everyday people who've learned a thing or two about a thing or two during their time on the planet, readers will pulled into the sometimes hilarious, often serious, occasionally reflective experience of the book. These words will inspire you, amuse you, impress you, and make you think.

Thank you so much for sharing in my joy!

And six more words of advice - Buy this, you won't regret it.

With love,

the "everyday people"

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Sunday, May 15, 2016

Trump Does It



From here on in and forever, I will use any word I want to. Fashioned in any way that fits, because Donald Trump has been doing just this bigly style and America loves him for it. I have witnessed enough video footage of Trump pulling words out of his a** without consequence and this from a man running for President of the United States. Surely a mom of three who lives with a moral conduct of values and compassion will be cut some slack if the sole standing Republican candidate can scoff up word salad.

I will be mangling  increasing my vocabulary with any patched together mental quilt as I've heard them used by the Trump in high profile settings:

If Trump can be questioned about the situation and motives behind North Korea’s leader, Kim Jong Un, and his recent threats against the US, and Trump can pronounce all judgments against Kim “politicional,” rhymes with fictitional, the word flood gates are loosed.

“What’s your take on Kim Jong Un's statements toward the US?”

Trump, with thumb and forefingers poised like a child's pincer-hold with chalk halves: "It's like everything else, *repeats believe me believe me for effect* politicional.”

Politicianal. So that's what our current nuclear war worry is, politicional.

And you know what? Interviewers do not even blink an eye with politicional, or bigly, or   Everything he makes up - it's all accepted as being tru-ey.

That's it, I've had it. I get tired of thinking too only I didn't know I could just say eff it and talk like an inebriated prospector. I'm going to be making up my own words too. Especially on the days we run out of coffee in this household. By the way, is it just me, or the older I get, the less ounces those barrel containers of ground coffee hold?
 
I digress, I will use whatever floats to my mind in cerebellar viscery from this day forward. What trips the tongue rolls out of the mouth.

I pledge from here on in and forever, you will hear more words from me than those flying around at a National Republican Conference. And I will do everything in my power to make this possible for overworked, overtired, overtaxed minds the world over.

This Free The Words movement is going to make things so much easified and plentitudinal for all of us. I, too, have greatominous ideas, but no fire braining power to have them spill out of my mouth.
 
But with Trump, that changes today, because language — or lack thereof — will no longer be the barricadawall it once was, putonifying stoppage to anybody's dreamvisions.

As Trump has proven with his wordimations, anyone can run for office.

But not everyone can politicionalize the bestly. And so I throw my hat in the ring today, and begin blogerizing with purposity.
 


 

Thursday, May 12, 2016

How Was Your Mother's Day?



"What did you all do for Mother's Day?"

 "I got Starbucks!"

 "I had time with my family!"

 Me: "I made my kids write me love letters so the day wouldn't disappoint me into a rolled up ball of crushed defeat."

You can hear the rest here, on The Morning Blend  .

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