The Little Things

What is it about one small restriction that seems to encompass my life?  It touches everything.  From dinner time, to snack time, to leisure time, to craft time.  It's not just that I can't ingest corn derivatives.  I can't be around them when they are airborne.  And the fact that I have this unique intolerance (which touches all sufferers in unique ways) means that I can not be a pillar.  I can't be in a position of supervision because I can't be reliable.  There are too many variable in life to prevent exposure completely.  Which means reactions are impossible to predict, and just as impossible to ignore.  Which, to put it bluntly, makes me unreliable.  Not irresponsible, mind you, simply unreliable. 

A corn allergy makes me different.  It does separate me from the others.  Go out for coffee?  Sure.  But I won't be drinking any.  And we need to sit outside.  And...hopefully the rest of the group is up for that awkwardness.  Because, right or wrong, there is always some awkwardness. 
Group projects are a challenge too.  It seems like most work done in a group setting convenes around food.  Pizza.  Coffee.  Yoghurt.  Even donuts.  You meet at a restaurant, or in a small room and bring food to break the ice. 
Corn allergy, that sort of puts the chill back in the air.  Sometimes, I get so used to this allergy that I forget that I'm the oddball out.  I simply can't be a part of 'that' group.  I have restrictions. 
It's the simplest little things that fall through the cracks.  And those little things are the ones discussed over popcorn in informal gatherings, or pizza after the official meeting.  Little things that no one thinks are important.  But they're details.  And without those details, it's hard not to feel left out, as friendly and open as everyone else tries to be. 
It's not intentional.  I want to stress that I realize it's not intentional.  (I have to tell myself not to be paranoid when these things come up)  But it's usually an unexpected shock, like someone balanced a bucket of cold water over the front door and I'm the one who opened it. 
Corn allergy so drastically impacts what we eat, our dining options as well as choices, that it carries over into every aspect  of our lives in ways that other food allergies and even Celiac Disease do not.  All food restrictions are hard, but when it comes to corn, that's when I feel really different. 
And when I think about why I missed these little impromptu gatherings where details were addressed and dismissed, it's generally the corn aspect that lies at the root of things.  I know from the outside I look like I'm just not interested.  But the fact is, the risk just doesn't outweigh the potential bonding.  I love chatting informally outdoors where I'm not assaulted by perfume or personal care products, and food fumes disperse quickly.  But it's hard to get motivated to go somewhere to watch people you almost know enjoy a meal. 
And it's hard not to feel like you're in the spotlight when it's the little things you don't do, that make you miss the details. 
It's not a bad thing, necessarily.  It's just different.  Another little quirk.  Quirks can be endearing, they can be overlooked.  It just takes a little work.  And a little more work to keep track of those teensy little details that slip through the coffee-hour cracks.  And, of course, a good sense of humor to avoid letting those details get to you.  (This is the part I'm struggling to keep this weekend) 
Corn.  It doesn't just affect our diet.  It affects our lives. 

When I was a kid, vegetarianism was the dreaded dietary trend of teens and tweens.  It was a right of passage that half of us experimented with after reading Charlotte's Web, and probably a quarter of us actually continued with.  It's still a phase discussed in numerous books and magazine articles.  But the newest dietary trend (the kind that isn't for weight loss) seems to revolve around organic choices.
When my daughter came to me and said she was considering cutting out corn and soy (on top of the gluten and dairy she already avoids) I was a little worried that she wasn't feeling well.  No, no, she was quick to assure me, it's just that corn and soy are usually GMO in the US.  And she doesn't want to eat genetically modified organisms.
She reassured me that it wasn't my reading choices that made her think.  It was an article about how good GMOs are that convinced her.  She disagreed with the article, and their evidence that most corn and soy grown in the USA are GMO and 'not hurting anyone' really concern her.  People have cancer, heart disease, diabetes, and increased incidents of food allergy and intolerance.  We don't know why, but diagnosis like chronic fatigue and various depression issues appear to be on the rise as well.
I was impressed by her argument, and we discussed how we can focus on organics but I don't want her to obsess over small amounts of corn or soy or conventional fruits and veggies.  It's more important to have a varied diet than to avoid specific farming practices.  Besides, as a family, we have enough to worry about when it comes to what goes into our bodies! In fact, I figured that our own dietary awareness was what set her off. 
But I've been listening in check out lanes.  And at playgrounds.  Not to mention while waiting for classes to let out.
It seems that my teenager isn't the only young lady concerned with the safety of genetically modified foods, and corn syrup.  Michael Pollan's "Omnivore's Dillemma" was published in a kid friendly format (which I need to look up) and has been making the middle and high school rounds.  Parents are commenting that their kid's sudden interest in ingredient lists, and desires to avoid high fructose corn syrup or soy are taking parents by surprise.  Some are asking to shop at Whole Foods, or refusing to eat anything not labeled organic.  Their parents aren't sure what to think.  Or how far to support the cause.
After all, teenagers are famous for changing their minds.  Like the parents of the 70's who were tempted to sneak ground chicken into the tofu, today's parents wonder if they should hide the corn syrup laden foods.  And how exactly to do that.
I had to laugh at the conversation about hiding conventional foods.  After all, there is nothing inherently nutritious about corn syrup.  Even the most ambitious propaganda from the corn refiner's association doesn't go so far as to suggest that corn syrup laden food is anything more than equivalent to cane sugar laden food.  The point has always been to convince the public that food is food regardless of how much processing or chemical processes they put it through. 
The concern, which no one seems able to voice properly, is that corn is so entrenched in our food supply that totally eradicating it does cause potential problems.  It doesn't mean that corn is inherently good.  It just means that total avoidance is to today's diet as a vegetarian diet was to the meat and potatoes fare our parents were raised on.  Maybe worse, since there can be corn derivatives used to wash meat or eggs, used in the waxing of fresh fruits, even in the fortification of vitamins.
The answer isn't to do a better job hiding it.  The Corn Refiners association and the FDA seem to be doing a good enough job, if the experience of the Delphi Avoiding Corn forum is any example.  The answer is to look, really take a good, hard, critical look at our dietary staples.  Ask about sources.  Make preferences known, and look for variety as well as organic symbols.  Support local farmers (if you don't avoid corn, include the ones who grow it organic, the on-the-cob variety) and eat close to the source.
The next generation knows they want to make a change.  They know there is something inherently wrong with genetically manipulating plant DNA.  They don't have the words or experience to explain or defend their objections, but that doesn't invalidate them.
The next generation may need guidance in defining their objections.  They need help modifying their choice of diet, whether it is vegetarian or organic or paleo, into something nutritious and balanced.  But they don't need adults to circumvent or override their decisions.  Just as the vegetarians in my day were objecting to the rise of factory farms, today's organic activists just want to make a change.  They want to be proactive.  And like any change in this world, the best place to start is at home.  I hope today's youth is more successful at avoiding corn than my generation was at eradicating factory farming.  But since it's easier to make a statement with a choice to buy organic, to put dollars toward local pesticide free produce rather than processed calories, maybe they'll have a chance. 
I support the cause.  It's not just about corn.  It's about health, for my kids and their future. 

Real Food

Recently, struggling to come up with food for Bumblebee, I couldn't help but wonder when we got to this point.  And was immediately assaulted by the memory of sitting in a professionals office, discussing Bumblebee's reluctance to attend school and food issues and being told that she shouldn't be expected to eat the veggies and whole grains I make, since she doesn't have Celiac Disease she deserves "real food".  And an interview with a nutritionist shortly after I was diagnosed with both Celiac Disease and Corn Allergy, tearfully explaining that there was NOTHING I could eat, and the kids needed food too...and being told that I couldn't deprive them of "real food". 
Each time I was on overload, so I nodded, blinked away any tears threatening to fall, and agreed that my limited diet was intolerable for kids. 
But I never thought to step back, narrow my eyes and ask what exactly they considered "Real Food"?  What, exactly, is wrong with a gluten free diet that makes people think of it as "fake" food?  Rice bread isn't any less valid than wheat bread...it just tastes different.  Rice pasta, again, simply has a different texture and taste than 'regular' pasta.  It's not fake.  It's just made from a different grain.
Looking through gluten-free cookbooks always makes me shake my head.  While I am in need of inspiration for nightly meals, I find that specific cookbooks for gluten free foods have a distinct focus on baking.  Breads, cakes, cookies.  Carbs.  Of which we, as a society, get way too many of to begin with.
Real food.  Is it cake?  Pizza?  Macaroni?  And when did it get that way? 
I look at last night's meal (which was a sort of quiche-filling poured over leftover pasta.  Not gourmet, but tasty and chock full of spinach and pepper and onion, as well as protein from eggs)  I wonder what ever possessed me to think that serving cereal or a sandwich to Bumblebee was somehow superior?  A valid choice if she doesn't like the meal, sure.  But more appropriate because it's "real" and has gluten and/or dairy plus corn? 
What's happened to our priorities? 
I'm exaggerating a bit.  I've never really thought a sandwich was "superior" to the rest of the meal.  But there's been that nugget of guilt.  Poor Bumblebee.  Poor Mr. Violets.  They have to put up with fake food, when they could be eating...GLUTEN. 
Well, the guilt is ending (er, well, okay...by ending I mean 'being hidden away and ignored to the best of my ability') right now. 
Tonight's meal is rice and beans with salad.  It's a meal offered on dozens of restaurant menus, and enjoyed by thousands of households in the american continents.  Plural.  There's nothing fake about it, even if I only serve avocado and no cheese or sour cream.  In fact, I believe some would find it even more traditional that way. 
Real food isn't about gluten, or dairy, or any other allergen.  It's about food.  It's about seeing your food, knowing where it came from, and enjoying it.  It's about food that's approachable.  Simple.  Nourishing.  It's the opposite of what you'd pull out of the Star Trek Enterprise holo-replicator mechanism.  It's the good chocolate.  (you know, the only kind I can safely eat that costs a fortune)  It's old fashioned oats or Quinoa flakes.  It's pure cane sugar.  It's water instead of Kool Aid.  It's food that formed on a farm, not in a laboratory, and grew from seeds that weren't GM.  (at least, in my opinion) 
Real food is a recurring theme on allergy boards.  Missing, wishing, dreaming of "real food".  But food without allergens IS real.  It's valid.  It's tasty.  It's nourishing because of what IS in it, not lacking because of what's not. 
And you know what?  In many ways, it CAN be superior to the so called "real" of the Standard American Diet.  Real Food is often gluten free.  Why shouldn't it be? 

Allergies and the Environment

I'm not sure what it is about allergies; but I find that the farther I delve into them the more aware of our environmental impact I become.
Part of it is the quest for a cause, which may lead to a cure.  Part of it is becoming aware of the way our food chain works, which raises more questions than it seems to answer.  And part of it is simply that the more aware I am of what is IN food, the less I want it in my (or my kids') bodies.  It's not about avoiding allergens.  It's about our safety, and our society's sustainability.
What would we do if suddenly massive truck routes were made impassable?  If we were forced to eat fresh produce and meat without grains?
This happened in parts of Europe during the second world war.  This dangerous diet led to...increased health.  But, during the second world war, we still had memories of how to farm.  We had a little extra space to garden.  We had memories of how to prepare and preserve our own food, or there were plenty of people around who could teach us.
And there were a lot fewer of us to feed.  In an age of microwaves, freezers and take out containers, how many would know how to plan and execute a month's worth of meals if heaven forbid there were no more factory food deliveries?  There's a commercial that we used to laugh at.  "Without us, some guys would starve".
"So true," we joked.
But when we entered the realm of food allergies and started cooking from scratch, we stopped laughing.  With an increased awareness of ingredients, and additives, and the true definition of cooking from scratch, the jingle seemed too hit too close to home.  And all of these realizations led us to an increased awareness of sustainability.  
Allergies themselves are overwhelming, especially when you have a slew of them that require multiple pages to list.  Corn being one of the toughest allergies to live with, since it even shows up in the citric acid rinse on bagged salad.  Sustainability isn't a main concern.
And yet, it is.  Corn is the number one source cited when companies talk about environmentally friendly "green" resources.  But it isn't sustainable.  It isn't a sustainable crop, it requires a lot of gunk to grow industrially, and then it takes a lot of energy and effort to turn cobs into something that doesn't resemble a kernel, an ear or a husk. It's just natural, and sounds more sustainable than petroleum and plastic. 
I now look at food in a new light.  I wonder about the modifications we've put it through the past several decades.  Trying to grow a better variety, something easier or hardier or simply more aesthetically pleasing.  I wonder about the cost of our actions.  The loss of heirloom varieties of plants, the loss of diversity.  I worry about what exactly is coursing through the veins of my children.  I've seen the detrimental effects of food dyes on Bumblebee.  I've seen a playful Penguin double over, pale and sweaty, from a simple snack. 
I hear them complain of random tummy aches or mild headaches, and I wonder what else might be going on.  I look at ingredient lists and ask myself why, exactly, they need BHT or TBHQ.  Xanthan gum might improve the texture, but how much can a body really handle?  And what about all those synthetic vitamins?  Grown en masse in laboratories to try and replace some of the nutrients lost in the soil from our poor farming practices, do our bodies know what to do with them?  And the process itself can't be especially good for the environment.
None of this would ever have been given more than a fleeting thought, I'm certain, if it weren't for the food allergies.  I used to figure that what was in the food wasn't all that bad, I read lists...but not that closely.  Carageenan?  Hypromellose?  tocopherols?  High fructose corn syrup?  They had to come from somewhere.  And the FDA approved them.  That was good enough to consume them in moderation.
And now I wonder.  Not only what they do to us, but what effect do they have on the environment?  What unseen damage can they do?

I note that food isn't the only thing with an ingredient list, and the personal care aisle scares me, too.  Products designed to be washed away into our water supply.  With names like Polyethylene (which, by the way, is bits of plastic designed to help exfoliate.  Bits of plastic and corn derivatives, bound together for eternity and washed into our water supply, where any bacteria and large particles might be cleaned up...but anything minute is likely to remain in tact and be ingested by something else, animal or human.) or ammonium lauryl sulfate (a foaming agent commonly derived from coconut or palm alcohols) what sort of effect do they have on our water supply?  Or the quality of the soil they drain into? 

You see, the awareness of cross contamination, and the inability to sterilize away cornstarch dust or drops of peanut oil, makes me aware that nothing vanishes from our planet.  It may get absorbed, or rearranged, or diluted.  But it doesn't vanish.  The problem may begin, for our family, with allergen containment, but the question of "why" leads us to the bigger picture.  The chemicals and GMO's whose safety I question for my family aren't easily contained. The wind blows, the bees pollinate, and flowers blossom freely.  They don't know where the boundaries between organic and inorganic lay.  And honestly, as a society we don't know the long term effects. 

Most of us don't give it more than a fleeting thought.  I know I never did.  I tried to toss my water bottle into the recycle bin instead of the trash can, I parroted the idea that organic was better but I didn't really deeply care.  Not until the allergies opened my eyes, and I began not only seeing the cause and effect of something as ubiquitous as food but questioning choices I'd never thought to question before. 
While some studies are linking allergies to environmental causes, I'm finding that allergies are lowering our personal environmental impact in a lot of little ways.  Sure, I have to drive farther to get to the grocery store that carries gluten free pasta, but I don't waste time idling in a drive through.  I don't buy many single serve packages, and we gravitate toward environmentally friendly cleaning aids like baking soda and vinegar. 

Truthfully, I don't know if I'm happy to know all I know.  I'd be perfectly happy to still be in the dark regarding the origins of microcrystalline cellulose and astaxanthin.  In fact, I don't think I'd miss being able to spell either one without a cheat sheet.  Awareness breeds responsibility. 
While I can't do as much as I want for the environment, awareness gives me the opportunity to do more than I might have before and allergies give me the motivation.  Maybe someday my grandkids will have a planet to inherit, after all. 

"Mommy, promise not to get offended if I tell you something?  Promise?" 
Um, okay. 
"You might become famous someday.  You might be famous for having the most food allergies." 

I found it amusing, not offensive.  And I can see how it would look that way to a child who has spent the last 10 years on a food allergy diagnostic roller coaster, especially when one of them is corn. 

So...What do you eat?

Last week we started a Candida diet that was also (mostly) free of gluten, casein, corn, and a host of other smaller allergens. 
The verdict?  Success.  And Mr. Violets is sick of salad. 

In the world of food allergies, one question seems to arise more than any other.  At least, when the subject of either corn or gluten is involved.  That questions is..."What do you eat?"  (said in a variety of tones ranging from pity to suspicion or outrage) 
So here's a list of dinner dishes for a week's worth of meals. 

Baked cod on a bed of spinach and onions.  (3 thumbs up.  Bumblebee declined to taste.)
Homemade 'quiche' (4 wavery thumbs up.  It's better with some sort of cheese.  Off the candida diet, we make two dishes, one with dairy cheese one with dairy free corny cheese.) 
Chicken breast with mashed turnips and salad.  (It's better than it sounds.  3 thumbs up, Bumblebee only gives a 4th thumb up for the salad.  But she at least contemplated the turnips.) 
Tuna casserole.  (not gourmet, but we like it.) 
Crepes with nut butter and soup. 
Spaghetti soufflee
Omelets 

There are a lot of eggs in there, but eggs are a good source of protein, calories and fat.  And they're cheap, which goes a long ways in their favor.  Next week, we're looking forward to Mr. Violet's diet including beans and sweet potatoes again...adding several potential delights to our menu. 

We found that the second week was a bit harder than the first week.  We wanted to revert to our old "make a starch and everyone chooses their own veggies and protein" cycle.  And the heat wave that hit made our appetites wane.  But we seem to be muddling through.  Tonight's menu is stuffed squash for Mr. Violets and the girls; leftovers for me.  Not bad; and could be made corn free if you have a safe source of ground beef.  (or you could probably use lentils.  They aren't listed on the candida free diet, and I haven't actually tried adding them back to my own diet...but I can't eat squash and am still deciding how well tomato sits.) While nothing we made was gourmet, and probably doesn't compete much with restaurant fare, it was homey and tasty and filling.  What more can you ask for? 
That it feed a whole family?  Well, it did that, too.  (Or it would have if Bumblebee were just a little less stubborn.  But again, she tried and gets points for eating salad almost everynight.) 

The Grocery Bill

Some days, I look at the grocery bill and feel guilty.  After all, I'm the one who has the most restrictions.  Chocolate chips cost $3.39; rather than $1.99.  Pasta is pretty close to the same.  I can't swap brands for a better price.  My daughter may be gluten free...but she isn't corn free.  And sometimes gluten free by itself isn't all that expensive.
But recently I was given a puzzle.  As you may recall if you read my blog regularly, I was recently on an extended liquid diet.  Consisting of mostly broth, pureed veggies from said broth, applesauce and gelatin.
It wasn't a very expensive diet.
I was still making meals.  The grocery bill should have gone down a bit, with Mr. Violets having extra leftovers for lunches and Penguin having extra leftovers for munching.  Oddly, it went up quite a bit...just for those two weeks.  I was truly puzzled when I looked over the credit card bill.
But then I turned to the receipts, and I looked in the fridge.
It seems that instead of using those leftovers, new meals were made and consumed.  And instead of finishing off the last bit of hummus, it was pushed to the back to make room for a new tub.  There were 3 tubs of (unsafe for me) margarine in there.  And the summer sale stash I'd stockpiled?
Gone.
So this is what happens when moms get sick.
No one went hungry while I was down.  (And no one goes hungry when I'm *not* down)  Actually, I wasn't all that down and out...the liquid fast thing helped a lot.  I was tired, but mostly functional.  I did work more on "get that yourself". 
I had noticed that the tupperware cupboard was looking a little bare.  I hadn't noticed how much toast Gluten Free Penguin was enjoying.  I was just mentioning the leftovers and presuming the family would follow through.
Before this turns into some sort of poor me rant, I want to skip straight to the point.
Eating allergen free doesn't have to be all that expensive.  It's only expensive when you don't mediate your choices.  Look in the fridge, use those leftovers.  Put off shopping trips, and while it's important to stock up on sale items when they are on sale...they need to still be used as if you don't have a huge stockpile and are still limited to one or two packages a week or month.
I can make a tuna casserole that's safe for all of us.  It's not gourmet, but it's tasty.  It costs about a dollar a serving.  But if we throw half of it away, it costs $2 per serving.  And the amount that is thrown away gets replaced by other, often more expensive, snacks and lunch items.
Likewise...rice and beans costs maybe $4 total?  And after it serves us, there is enough rice leftover, generally, for fried rice tomorrow night. But if we throw half of it away, the cost doubles.  And leftover night becomes "easy meal" night...and easy meals are generally a little more expensive at least for the ones eating single serve items. 
On the other hand, the old standby, a sandwich, costs about $2 each for Penguin.  More if dairy free cheese is involved.  And it's not filling by itself.  $2 doesn't sound like much, but it adds up quickly.  The worst part is that gf bread may be a good vehcle for hummus, tomatoes and other items...but it isn't in itself very nourishing. 
It's good to know that my corn-free status isn't the sole source of high grocery bills.  Allergy eating can be expensive...but it can be affordable, too.  With a little bit of planning. 

Just one more thing to worry about with allergies

According to a recent study, children with Celiac Disease, like those with any chronic illness, are more at risk for emotional and behavior problems than their peers. 
I don't think it's a huge leap to say any food allergy would work similarly. 
And I can't help but wonder if this is what plays a part in my kid's anxiety issues.  Is it related to trichotillomania?  Or the anxiety driven tantrums? 
I don't know.  But I can't change the way our family's dietary restrictions work without hurting us.  So I can only hope that we can continue to reassure, that the interventions we've chosen are helpful, and that as a society we become more supportive of food restrictions for any reason. 
Why would kids with dietary restrictions be more at risk for emotional problems?  To my way of thinking it's understandable when they are required to go to school, but school personnel and their peers don't always 'get' allergies.  When other parents are busy fighting for their children's right to eat peanut butter, the food allergy kid is hearing "you're ruining things for everyone".  When pizza is served to 19 out of 20 kids and the food allergy child gets to grab their own personal lunch from their backpack, they get the message that they aren't as special as the rest of the class.  They have to put up a wall to remind themselves to say no, to be polite, to be different. 
I don't know what the answer is.  But awareness helps.  And hopefully therapists will learn a bit about food allergy; and the difference between medically restricted diets and eating disorders. 

Easter Greetings

Most people don't think of Easter as a very corn filled holiday.  It's...more...carrots.  And maybe celery.  And...jellybeans. 
Actually, for most people with food allergies, Easter celebrations can be pretty safe. 
But, again, corn rears it's ugly head.  Ear?  Whatever. 
Jelly beans may generally be free of the top 8; but their rainbow appeal generally comes from a rainbow of artificial food colorings.  These are linked with behavior issues, and possibly further health problems, in some individuals. There are naturally colored jelly beans from Surf Sweets, Green Beans, and even Jelly Belly superfruits. 
Unfortunately, the above are either made with corn syrup, or the corn containing citric acid. 
Gummy candy is another perrenial favorite...Gummy bears fit just perfectly into the plastic colored eggs.  (And of course an egg laying bunny is going to hatch red and yellow bears, right?)  Surf Sweet candies, Yummy Earth candies, and Annie's Naturals all have delicious alternatives.  (Containing corn) 
Florida's Natural Nuggets taste good and fit well in the eggs...but again contain corn derivatives. 
For a corn free candy, you might have to resort to St Claire's Hard candies.  (Tasty, but not quite as seasonal) 

And then there is the chocolate bunny.  Nut warnings, dairy derivatives, even gluten show up in those mischievous iconic candies.  Alternatives may be maple sugar shapes (I haven't seen a bunny, though), chocolates bought from a premier specialty facility like Premium Chocolatiers, or chocolate chips melted to fit various candy molds available in the market place. 

The only real candy novelties safe for corn avoiders are the ones we make ourselves.  But some have gotten creative with Erewhon rice cereal and homemade marshmallows to shape krisie treats, gelatin mold eggs, and shaped chocolates. 

Of course...the best egg stuffers are non candy...Littlest Pet shop figurines, In My Pocket pets, and small vehicles will delight kids 3-7; as will mardi gras beads and other small party favors (these aren't great for the environment, though)

As an adult with the corn allergy (and parent to a dairy free, gluten free kid and 2 who avoid artificial colorings) I prefer to not worry about the sugary novelties. 
Spice cake sounds good to me; and maybe if we have a few carrots I'll grate them in for corn free carrot cake.  I'm still working on a white frosting recipe.  Powdered sugar has not been easy to find, but I'm certain there is decent frosting to be had without it.  (after all, people have been frosting cakes for generations...haven't they?) 

The kids are looking forward to egg dyeing.  Although every year I tell myself we'll find some nice, safe, all natural dyes...I got lazy (and cheap) and purchased a sponge paintng kit.  We will dye 2 dozen eggs, of the cheapest brand I find, and Mr. Violets will bring what he wants to work.  The rest will be a tragic waste of resources...but at least they'll serve a purpose in entertainment, art exploration, and decoration.  And they'll decompose quickly, a nice Earth Day bonus. 

Maybe we'll work in a short hike, or at least a trip to the park.  After all...the whole point of Easter is to welcome spring back to our lives.  And part of springtime is getting back outside.  We'll also be attempting another garden.  We've already fed a honeydew seedling to the snails in our yard, and (after putting down salt) are considering ttempting strawberry plants.  They grow well and Bumblebee enjoys them.  Maybe I'll even be able to handle a few despite the prevalence of seeds.  (Or maybe I'll puree them and strain the seeds)  At least if they're homegrown, I'll know if it was the strawberry or the 'industry standard' rinse that didn't get scrubbed off. 

Note to self: do not move to Chicago. 
Or, if it's ever necessary, plan to homeschool. 
No, it's not the academic values, or the teacher quality, or the test scores.  It's nothing to do with the lovely folk who live there.  My problem with Chicago? 
Some schools have a mandatory "purchase lunch here" policy.  Of course, there is the standard "medical conditions are exempt" caveat. 
My questions:  How must the medical conditions be documented?  And what constitutes a worthy medical excuse?  Diabetes, food allergies, Celiac Disease...migraines?  IBS?  Lactose intolerance?  Kosher requirements?  Vegetarian or vegan choices?  Behavior issues?  Autism? 
If they require a simple doctor's note, they usually require it every single year.  And sometimes a new one midyear when some policy or another changes.  It sounds reasonable to get your medical professional to write out a note for you.  But doctors seem to HATE this policy.  They have better things to do than take a 15 minute appointment to write a note stating that a medical condition has not been outgrown and that the parents, not the school administrators who have never met your child, should decide what, exactly, can and can not pass your child's teeth. 
And then there's the simple fact that some medical conditions, like IBS, don't require one specific diet.  It's an ongoing balancing act...and one day's requirements may be completely counter to another day's.  Control over diet is critical to the overall health of someone with severe IBS or chronic digestive issues...and I guarantee that by High School; digestive concerns are the last thing any child wants to discuss over lunch. 
Which brings up my next concern.  If bagged lunches are banned, then anyone who brings a bagged lunch will be under scrutiny.  The third degree can come about whether they are the best of friends, mortal enemies or complete strangers.  Why did you bring a lunch?  Why are you exempt from the hard and fast rules?  What are you eating...Why are you different? 
It's hard enough to be different.  To be unique.  And now some schools insist that the unique individuals get a doctor to document their needs and then go around in obvious defiance of the school rule because they are exempt?  This sends the wrong message. 
I don't know about other kids with food allergies.  But mine wants to slip just under the radar.  She wants to bring enough chocolate chip cookies to share so that she isn't 'different'.  She wants to donate a normal fruit platter, or be in charge of the crackers, or offer safe snacks that taste and appear 'normal' to her friends and schoolmates.  She wants to be safe and cocooned in her food world...but she doesn't want anyone else to question it or tease her about it. 

I'm sure there are kids who don't really care where their lunch comes from, or what's in it, as long as it tastes good.  And parents who are happy to let the school make good decisions.  There are plenty of families not paying any attention to the ratio of doughnuts and chips and cookies to fresh produce consumed in the household.  But taking control by removing choice from consumers (You must purchase lunch here, no outside food in a school where children are required by a court of law to attend) doesn't solve anything. 

I say ban soda if you have to ban something (it makes a sticky mess when spilled, and the way it sprays after being shaken up in a backpack all day can make a custodian cry), provide plenty of healthy options at the school...and turn a blind eye to the 'junk food' as long as it isn't consumed during class hours.  Continue encouraging and teaching about good choices, start a garden (They won't be interested the first year, so give it 5 years) and eventually kids will start to make better and better choices.  They have to be the ones to choose in the long run, we have to trust them with their own health.  Which means, we start by trusting them with their own lunch. 

Sometimes food allergies and restrictions seem so much a part of my life, I'm surprised to remember that not everyone deals with them every single day.  Not everyone comprehends the reality of true allergies.  And some people still tend to shock and sadden me.  Stories like the Florida protesters, parents who don't want their children to spend time washing their hands and rinsing out their mouths at school to keep a fellow schoolchild safe. 
Some kids have mild allergies.  The symptoms are uncomfortable, and they avoid them to varying degrees...depending on the parent and their understanding and ability to conform.  Others have severe allergies.  Their parents have watched eyes and lips swell; held blue children in their arms and listened to sirens wailing, acknowledging deep inside that this time it might really by it...all the while hoping, praying, holding their own breath that the epi pen kicks in and they make it to the hospital.  And out again. 

Of course those parents would want to keep their child in a bubble.  Protect them, lock them up like Rapunzel in a tower.  But that isn't realistic.  We have to live with food allergies, our kids have to LIVE with food allergies.  And it gets easier as they get older and everyone under the sun doesn't try and offer treats to them.  Or treat them as rude and inconsiderate if they say "no thank you" to a cookie.  But in elementary school, kids are really at the mercy of the adults around them.  And sometimes, those adults need extreme measures to keep themselves on task.  "Our kids have rights, too!" the protest signs read. 

I've seen the case debated and both sides say "If you don't like it, homeschool!"  The difference is, the allergic child either needs the accommodations or can't safely attend school.  It's perfectly safe for the ones objecting to the rules to attend.  They just have to follow the necessary guidelines. 

I have to wonder what the kids are learning.  Respect for the needs of others, or resentment for those who are different? 
I'm grateful we aren't anaphylactic.  And saddened by the actions of those who don't want to accommodate someone who is. 

Parenting and Holland

Like most people, I had a vague idea of what sort of parent I hoped to be.  I formed an image in my mind of our family, of how I would handle different situations.
When I got pregnant sooner than anticipated, I knew that those images were changing, just by virtue of the situation.  I continued to form ideas, but I kept them vague.  General.
I quickly learned that the only way to parent my wayward babies with my wavering health was to take things as they came, without judgment.

I like the Holland metaphor.
Some days, I feel as if I've embarked on a journey.  I embraced the excitement.  I packed a small bag of just the essentials (patience, respect, and creativity) and set out.  I said "I'm going to Italy!"  I was so excited, I only glanced at the guidebooks.  I didn't bother to learn the language, I just accepted that I'd learn as I went.

I climbed on the train and looked out the window.  I saw tulips.  I bought quaint little clogs.  I gushed over the waterfront and windmills. I explored the shops, learning to speak Dutch through immersion.  But somewhere along the way, as I contact friends to tell them of my experiences in "Italy", I started to suspect that it wasn't Italy.  It's only in retrospect that I was given a label for the things I've observed, experienced.
And it's not Italy.
Maybe it's vacation.  It's a voyage, an adventure.  But there's no gelato, or Venice, Rome, Florence.  And there's no Colosseum hiding around the bend .
And in retrospect, I see that the times I traversed flooding railway tracks were not necessarily "normal" inconveniences.  But at the time, they were a problem...and I simply pressed through the best I could.  I've reassessed my expectations of this adventure.  But, I'm no longer certain it's Italy. 

I'm not sure if the labels I find will ever work.  After all, I still had the time of my life, and there's no going back.  No matter what I do, there will be no Colosseum, no Italian vineyards to explore.  Even if I were to miraculously manage a transfer, I'd be comparing the two visits and wondering what I was missing from the trip I first embarked on. 

I didn't really realize that there was anything all that out of the ordinary until I started hearing others gush about their Italian vacations and realized that my experience, while valid and wonderful, just doesn't quite compare.  It doesn't mean I don't enjoy my journey.  I do.  But this is where a label comes in handy.
When I complain about the pea soup, or mention the coffee hour, if I knew I was in Holland a lightbulb would go on.  But if I'm talking of Italy, the image just doesn't jive with the pasta and gelato they experienced. When I talk about the quaint cottages I stayed at, and they recall brick vineyards...well, it's hard to relate. 

We didn't all visit Italy.  I was in Holland, but I don't know the word for it, even though I learned to communicate with the people I met. 

Just like this fictional vacation; I'm raising my kids with limited labels.  I have a few...I know Penguin's a trichotillomaniac with ADD tendencies and Bumblebee...well; I know there is a label for her.  But I still don't know what it is, or if it's worth pursuing.

And then there's the food. 

The food is kind of like that elusive Colosseum.  I had a vague idea of my plans, an image of what I wanted to see.  I keep thinking it's just around the corner.  And then I remember I'm not in Italy.  And there is no Colosseum here.  But there are beautiful flowers, lovely people, and amazing views.  I'll always wonder about that Colosseum.  But I wouldn't trade these views for the Roman Empire. 

The Hardest Holiday

When it comes to food related treats...Valentines day just might take the chocolate cake.
It's second only to Halloween in candy filled delights, from the dum-dums taped to classroom valentines to the red heart shaped boxes lining grocery and drug store shelves to the scrumptious recipes for sinful chocolate dipped strawberries or swirled fudgy brownies that abound in my email inbox.
The ubiquitous conversation hearts are practically as iconic as candy corn.  And twice as fun, since you get to make up silly poems on your school desk before enjoying them.
And since it's not a "big" holiday...it seems like everyone likes to go overboard.  And feels justified in passing out "just a little candy" because it's February.  What's the harm in having a little fun for a small holiday?
Nothing.  There's nothing wrong with it.  And actually, the gluten free/casein free crowd might enjoy a variety of mainstream Valentine treats...since most of the confections are simply sugar...spun in various forms and molded into a variety of shapes.  Artificially flavored and dyed pretty petroleum based colors, they aren't good for you.  But they aren't damaging intestines the way gluten might.  Or doubling you over the way casein might.
Even the chocolate dipped strawberries can be made safe.

However, when you're 8; and you can't eat artificial dyes without really going nuts, the holiday is hard.
Today there was a GREAT party with cake, strawberries and whipped cream (That Bumblebee could eat!) and then the party became "The worst ever" because the valentines were passed out.
Unfortunately, I've grown complacent.  The kids both had the flu all last week (The scary form of the flu...that had us in for chest x rays and contemplating antibiotics because that fever just wouldn't break), we're on a budget, it's a Hallmark holiday and so I didn't do much in the way of preparing.  Bad plan.
Most of Bumblebees valentines this year included something colorful and edible.  I'm proud of her for choosing not to enjoy them.  I'm sad that she was grumpy and felt left out.  The gluten free kid could eat the candy.  The nut allergy kids could eat the candy.  There were other kids who chose not to eat the candy (kids like I used to be...who just don't like suckers and chewy artificial goop) but Bumblebee felt like she was the only one who **couldn't** eat the candy.
She told me she could've and I wouldn't have known the difference.
I agreed.
But she didn't because she doesn't like how it makes her feel. 
"I want one of my candies" she told me, "And I'm going to choose to eat one unless you can give me a good reason not to!"
I opened my mouth.
"Ten good reasons!" She amended.
When I said that artificial food colors are banned from kids' food in Europe she asked why Americans let kids eat them.  Penguin interrupted with "Because they're dumb."
"Why do you have to be smart, then?" Bumblebee grouched at me.  (I corrected them both with the information that most of our society is simply uninformed.  Not dumb.) 
I started to falter around 8.  She grinned, then giggled.  Gave an exaggerated sigh at 10.

And then she enjoyed a bit of pudding cake.  (My experiment du jour...it was a success, although I thought this first incarnation might be a bit too rich)
Some will probably wonder why on earth I'm leaving something like this up to her.  Why is it such a stress?
The answer is simple.  Food dye reactions are mostly behavioral and fall in the neurological and 'intolerance' spectrum.  That means that there isn't a lot of medical backing, or reassurance.  It means she doesn't have a quantifiable reaction.  It also means that we might take calculated risks.

When it comes to true allergies, there is no gray area.  You either need to avoid the allergen, or you don't.  Penguin has distinctly debilitating (but not life threatening) reactions to gluten and dairy.  And blue dye.  There is no acceptable risk for her.  There isn't an "Ugh, oops...oh well."  If she is exposed she misses at least 24 hours...more like 48.  And she seems to feel 'bleck' for longer. If a person with an anaphylactic dairy allergy eats something with a touch of butter on it; they can stop breathing or go into cardiac arrest.  There's no room for a learning curve or experimentation. 
But Bumblebee's intolerance is in the gray zone.  If there's a way to avoid the dye, we do.  If she were to need an antibiotic that was colored, though, we could muddle through.  Calling it an "allergy" without following through with total avoidance lessens the view of allergies in general and creates a false sense of security.
So why do I leave such an important decision up to her?  Because it is her body.  And ultimately, it's her choice.  She can cheat on this "diet".  I wouldn't know the difference; except that she was exceptionally more difficult than usual.
It has to be her choice to be healthier, happier.  I'll support it one hundred percent, and if she makes good choices I'll provide safe, appropriate, and FUN alternatives.  If she chooses poorly, I won't be nearly as supportive through the recoop time.  I won't punish her, but I won't provide (expensive) alternate treats.  And I won't go to bat for her if she's going to waffle around.  It's not fair to the kids who can't cheat, who can't even take a calculated risk.  And it isn't fair to her to have rules that bend and change to fit the day's requirements.  Only she knows the best choices for herself.  So at this point, I'm letting it be harder and telling her I disapprove of her eating them but not forbidding it.  Mean, but hopefully it will strengthen her resolve in the long run. 

Meanwhile, Penguin's homemade valentines came out adorable.  She cut key shapes out of cardstock, wrote little sayings on them (which I'm not supposed to read or share) and then attached them to little heart shaped keychains.  Bumblebee taped markers to fuzzy poster valentines.  Fun, cute but not "over the top" since she doesn't like to stand out too much. 

And on the brighter side, Penguin had an awesome Valentine's day in Middle school.  Her friends gave out cutesy cards.  And since she's still recovering from the flu...she doesn't really care about the limited candy making it's way around.  She's just tickled that there was a lollipop that's safe for her.  :-)

I love it when dinner goes surprisingly well. 
Tonight's plan was to finally make that tuna noodle casserole Penguin was too sick for last night.  (Friday is casserole night; and this week it was going to be Thursday because of rehearsal but everyone got sick.) 
This is a meal that will feed Mr Violets, myself and Penguin.  Bumblebee will eat the noodles with a bit of cheese, if I save the noodles before assembling.  Sometimes.  Other times she makes faces at the dinner table and licks her veggies until her toast is ready.  Yes, she's a bit old for that kind of behavior.  But since it's an improvement and we can see the visual struggle she goes through not to throw a full out tantrum...it's a compromise we live with.  Most of the time.
Anyways.  Back to my story. 
I started with the onion.  Chopped it up and started carmelizing it on the stove.  (I'm not very good at this part...I usually charcoalize bits and soften bits and brown bits.  But I didn't do too bad tonight.)  Then I rinsed out the spinach.  Then I discovered we were out of peas, so I decided that tonight's experiment would be to add peppers. 
Bell peppers are an excellent source of vitamin C, and since the kids both have an exceptionally nasty case of the flu vitamin C sounds like a good plan. 
The water was boiling by now, so I opened the cupboard to pull out the pasta. 
I found spice cake mix for making lunch 'muffins'. 
I found spaghetti. 
I found the Trader Joe's brand rice spaghetti my husband bought by accident and Bumblebee didn't like because it's thinner than Tinkyada and doesn't hold up to overcooking as well. 
I found an extra bottle of grapeseed oil, the mint tea bag I keep up there as protection against food moths and a mysterious curly ribbon. 
Drat. 
Then I remembered telling myself to write "TJ--corkscrew pasta" on the list last time I made pasta.  Before I got distracted by having to play referee and Mr Violet's arrival home. 
Double drat. 
I looked at the softening onions, the casserole dish with spinach and bell peppers and the boiling water.  I furrowed my brow.  I looked at the spaghetti in my hand and thought "But, spaghetti and tuna just sounds...gross.  It's...wrong." 
Then Penguin called out, and I answered. 
"Mommy, if it's not too much trouble, could I have rice and beans for dinner?  I think there's leftovers.  And then you and Bumblebee can have mac and cheese I guess."  (This is a big sacrifice.  Penguin hates when the rest of us have mac and cheese because she can't eat it.  But she's sick, she knows her sister is sick and she wanted to do something nice for her.) 
I looked at the casserole dish again, and let the wheels in my brain turn, vaguely a recipe for savory noodle kugel I once read about.  I assessed my options...and made the spaghetti.  We weren't going to eat it as spaghetti anyways.  Well, I might.  The kids and my husband will continue to hem and haw and choose cereal if we're out of Tinkyada.  (Ironically, they prefer the TJ corkscrews, though.) 
Then I cubed up teensy tiny cubes of cheese.  I didn't feel like grating it. 
I beat 2 eggs.  I probably could have beaten 3, but I was just experimenting at that point.  I really didn't want tuna with spaghetti, I didn't want beans with all those veggies tonight, and I did want a protein. 
I mixed it all together.  Added a ladle full of veggie broth.  Stuffed it in the oven and let it bake for half an hour while I refreshed water bottles, redosed everyone on medecine and started Penguin's leftover rice and beans on the back burner. 

I ended up with a meal that fed 3; just as planned.  It just didn't feed the 3 that I expected it to feed.  And Bumblebee wasn't nearly as thrilled with my concoction as Penguin tends to enjoy regular casserole. 

So it's a definite make again meal.  Maybe next time I'll even try it with an extra egg or two and no cheese.  But, I like the cheese.  It added extra pockets of creamy flavor.  It wasn't a 5 star meal.  It wouldn't earn any acclaim. 
But it was tasty and free of corn, gluten, nuts and dye.  What more can one ask for in a meal?

Grocery budget and food allergies

As any allergy sufferer knows, allergy friendly foods don't come cheap.  The more varied your avoidance list, and the stronger your sensitivity, the more brand loyal you become.  And the most allergy friendly companies are often the ones rarely on sale. 
Luckily, whole foods are healthy foods, and many are relatively the cheap.  Labor intensive, but bank book friendly.  Most people who have dietary restrictions try to balance their diets with fun, packaged preprepared safe foods that might cost exponentially more than the safe counterpart and cheap, healthy, labor intensive ingredients.  Many find themselves "stuck" following a healthier diet that way.
And others are completely price tag blind when it comes to food.
In our house, food is an ongoing struggle. 
There are 4 individuals.  One needs to lose weight, and has no will power.  (well, very little anyways.  But I love him anyway.)  He's the one often taking over food prep or presentation, when I'm not up for it.  One has very few food restrictions; is exceptionally picky, and is a perfect weight.  Two are avoiding gluten (among other things) and need to gain.  One of them is also avoiding corn, in charge of all cooking and budget keeping...and dealing with stomach issues on an ongoing basis. 
Hopefully you can visualize the bones of the problem here...variety and options.  When Bumblebee wants to live off of toast and jam, not only is that not healthy but it takes an extra layer of thought to keep her happy, fed, and the rest of us safe. 
Now, we've done fairly well with budgeting so far.  It's hard...but we figure the trade off is that our expensive meals come to under $15...and for a family our size to eat out is probably at least twice that, depending on where we went and whether the kids drink juice, soda or water. 
However, lately we've slipped a bit.  Mr Violets has been packing more lunches, and picking up odds and ends from the grocery store.  And I've been blissfully ignorant of the potential ramifications.  Until the credit card bill arrived and knocked me off my feet.
This opened a dialogue on what exactly the kids have been finding in their lunches.
And wait a minute...how many loaves of gluten free bread are you buying a week?
It's a miracle we can still make rent.
(Getting angry at your husband for helping out around the house isn't always a good move, by the way.  It raises his hackles and hurts his feelings.) 
Mr Violets' response was that we needed groceries.  He's been running to the store every time Penguin ran out of bread or bagels, he's been making sure we have enough squeezy applesauce in the cupboard (Which, he might add, I don't even buy enough to get through a full week!), he's been the one tossing crackers and green beans and bars into lunch bags.  I should be grateful. 
(Girls?  What happens to those bars?  Wide eyes.  Gulp.  Shift weight from one foot to the other.  Whispers.  "Well, X really likes them.  And so, um, sometimes I take a bite and then...it's already open.  So I don't want to throw it away..." That's enough.  That's okay.  You're not in trouble.) 
So...in the end, we've been spending expensive bagged lunches to school with the girls so they could give away the good stuff.  Grumble. 
I had to take a few steps back to see why Mr. Violets was getting so defensive.  Why couldn't he see that spending a fortune on food was a huge problem? 
"It's just money," he said, "I'll make more." 
And later "If that's what it costs, that's what it costs.  It's a sacrifice we have to make.  We can't let her starve." 
This is where I began to realize we were fighting two different fights. 
To him, the grocery budget is not a budget.  We need food, we buy food.  We buy what the kids will eat, what they want, what we want.  We splurge on candy or cookies.  But basics?  Protein, beans, grains?  Those are free foods.  We buy as many as we "need".  For me to put a limit on something as basic as bread (and casein free cheese) is akin to attacking his ability to provide. 
I was having trouble explaining that I look at the prepackaged options.  I break the meals down into dollars and cents.  Sure, applesauce in a squeeze is fun.  But at a dollar a pop, it isn't an everyday snack food.  It goes into lunches once a week.  So that there are room for other once a week snack foods.  Potato chips, protein bars, yoghurt.  (Coconut yoghurt may taste better than soy but it's nearly twice as much.  Making it a yummy TREAT that happens to be healthy.  Not a necessity.)  We can't consume the cheap calories half their friends are spilling across the lunchtables.  That doesn't mean we can afford the look alike comparisons for our kids to *spill across the lunch table*.  We can afford plenty of options.  Plenty of calories.  Plenty of safe, delicious, healthy food. 
Just not a lot of "normal" cheap and easy fundamentals. 
I may not be expressing myself well.  But the next few months we are tightening the grocery reins, Bumblebee will fuss and scream and our guilt mode will be on high alert as the neighbors tsk and tut about the "poor child whose evil mother starves her" (I feed her.  Food is on the table.  Snacks are in the cupboard.  Even on a budget, there will be appropriate food available to the tearful, tantruming, heartbreaking child who has everyone she meets enchanted.)  Penguin will happily scarf down whatever bits and pieces I come up with, giving vivid descriptions of what's right and wrong with my cooking.  (most of it boiling down to 'a little bit of real cheese and corn...I'm sorry Mommy, but I think something with corn in it would maybe help')  Mr. Violets will endeavor to learn the difference between "fun healthy food" and cheap basics. 
And me...well, I'm going to have to work even harder on this whole meal planning thing.  We have a bit of a plan with tuna casserole on Fridays, and chicken and rice on Tuesdays.  Leftovers Saturday and Wednesday.  But that leaves 3 days.  And a hungry Bumblebee.  (Who will stare at either meal and wait patiently until we're ready to serve her something different.) 

Just before Christmas, a 13 year old Chicago girl with peanut allergies headed off to school for the final day of classes, and a class party.  The teacher had made several calls to the Chinese restaurant of choice, and verified that the meal would be safe for the peanut allergic children in the classroom. 
There was a mistake.  
She never came home. 
Katelyn Carlson was taken to the hospital that afternoon, where she died from anaphylaxis. 

This story happens to strike a chord with me.  Maybe it's because Penguin's in seventh grade, too.  Maybe it's because I've spent the last third of my life learning everything I could about food allergies and intolerances.  Maybe it's just because when Bumblebee was little, and still potentially anaphylactic to peanuts, everyone rolled their eyes and told me how overprotective I was.  Or maybe it's that Penguin's been feeling more left out than usual on the social scene. 
I'm ridiculously grateful that my kids didn't show positive to the IgE portion of the allergy tests.  Which means that while reactions might make us all uncomfortable, scratchy, nauseated and stuck near a restroom for a few days (or in my case, a week or more), it means that in worst case scenario, if I get a call saying they're having a reaction, the odds are incredibly high that I will pick them up, hug them, talk to them and tuck them into their own beds to wait for it to wear off. 
I'm lucky. 
I know that I'm lucky, and yet this story still haunts me. 

I wonder why it is that food is so predominant in our society.  Why is it that we think of class parties, and we think of food?  Celebrations aren't about music or dancing or chatting it up.  They're about taste, and flavor, and treats.  In little kids, the focus is sugar...brightly colored sugar, presented in new and intriguing ways.  Crushed candy canes, melted hard candies, chewy candy rolled out like a fondant and molded into roses, or leaves, or whatever decoration is desired for cupcakes and cookies.  In older kids, savory foods aer desirable...adults look for restaurants to order from in bulk, for chips and dip and games become very food focused. 
So far this year, our middle school has hosted lunch time games such as a gum search (where a small piece of bubble gum is hidden in a pile of whipped cream and the participants hands are tied.  They race to eat their way tot he gum, and be the first to blow a bubble), cramming marshmallows into their mouths, and of course...multiple pizza parties. 
Licorice is given out as an incentive.  Brownies are baked as a reward.  Science labs have included oreo taste tests, and chip comparisons. 
Calls to the school have resulted in assurances that at this age...food really isn't present in the classroom.  And no...I don't need to bring in something comparable for my child. 
Either the admin is totally clueless, or they really just don't "get" it.  The kids have trouble separating what is important parts of the curriculum and what's just important to them. 
I think, in many ways, that's the point of food related projects.  They involve extra senses, and get kids excited about school.  They create a positive atmosphere...for the kids who can participate, anyways. 
Somehow I don't think the classmates of Katelyn Carlson will ever look at class parties the same. 

I find myself asking what can I do?  What can I do to make sure this doesn't happen in our school? 
I like food as much as the next guy.  I love fun food.  And I'm not naive enough to think that there is a perfect solution.  In my mind, the real issue is education. 
While I was looking for more information about the Chicago teen, I found an article about a young boy in Australia who died from an allergic reaction while on a class trip.  He began having an anaphylactic reaction to Beef Satay on an army cadet camp.  The army cadet officer, who was trained in first aid, stated that he had only been taught that food allergies could cause mild symptoms like a rash or coughing.  He had no idea that they could be fatal. 
Unfortunately, this perception is common here in the US as well.  And although the FAAN has increased awareness of anaphylaxis, the general public remain unconcerned.  If they are aware of the seriousness of allergies, they are convinced that only eating peanut butter with chunks of nuts in it could possibly cause a really serious reaction.  They don't believe that any of the other top 8 allergens are potentially serious or life threatening.  And they really doubt that anything NOT on the top 8 list could even cause a health problem. 
They want a magic cure. 
We all want to live in a safe bubble.  Where there is no such thing as dangerous food.  Where we can share any treat we make in our kitchen with anyone and the only thing we need to be concerned about are tastebuds. 
But that's not going to happen.  Food allergies, intolerances and anaphylaxis are on the rise.  The only way to protect ourselves is to arm ourselves with knowledge.  As much as I hate my nemesis, corn, I'm not all for banning it across the board.  I'm simply for full disclosure on a product label, including prescription medication, so that I can make an informed decision. 
As much as I want Penguin to fit in and eat what everyone else is eating...I'm not advocating that we deny the rest of the middle school their pizza parties.  But it'd be nice if they serve a fruit plate and shake things up with a top 8 friendly taco bar every now and then. 
I also want more epi pen awareness.  From what I understand, giving an epi pen requires a follow up at the hospital.  But the earlier an epi pen is administered, the less severe the reaction has a chance to become.  And if an epi pen is given in error, the risks are small.  In fact, if a person is having an apparent allergic reaction, the risks of giving the epi pen are far outweighed by the potential benefits.  Which means, it's even a good idea to have epipens on hand in first aid kits when medical help might not be readily available and they should certainly be stocked in medical rescue units. 
I'm concerned by discussions on parenting boards that indicate that medical rescue units don't always know what to do in the case of an allergic reaction.  They want to wait and evaluate and treat in a hospital setting.  But getting epinephrine into the bloodstream is essential in halting, or at least slowing, a life threatening reaction. 
I don't suppose there's much I can do about making epinephrine more readily available to those who might need it.  But I can be aware myself.  And I can educate others in the potential severity of food allergies. 
Some people stop breathing after 25 years of eating daily pb and j without incident.  They inexplicably develop an allergy to the protein. 
Others never develop more than a few hives, but hive out pretty consistently. 
And still others have varying reactions...sometimes vomiting, sometimes swelling, sometimes hives.  The fact is that you can't rely on having the same reaction, or the same severity, every time you're exposed.  And you can't be relied on to think clearly or rationally in the midst of a reaction.  You need to rely on the people around you to make good decisions, like finding and using an epi pen, or dialing 911 and contacting family members for more info.  Or simply encouraging you to relax, or get help as appropriate. 
So I guess my contribution is to be more aware.  To continue to speak up for allergy awareness.  And to remind others to do the same.  

A Haunting Good Time, part 2

The rest of the weekend wasn't quite so spectacular.  Saturday I awoke with Bumblebee's fever and was happy to usher the kids off to Grandma's house for a day of play.
They came home with a huge pumpkin, and a handful of safe candy each.  I went back to bed.

Sunday dawned bright and early...with bouncy kids...and a feverish Mommy.  Eventually it was time to leave for trick or treating at the zoo.  The kids asked me to stay home.  They knew Daddy was up for anything.  They didn't want to miss any fun.  I reluctantly agreed to stay in bed.  :-(
But I hear that the local zoo put on a hauntingly good time yet again!  They really outdid themselves, Lara Bar, Cascadian Farms, and Martinelli's Apple juice were just a few of the healthy food sponsors handing out chemical free treats.  There were also seeds, and paperwork, and stickers.
And merry go round rides, and animals to visit, and then just enough time to rest before they went to "just a few" houses for their evening fun.

They were a little nervous.  As Penguin put it, "Mom, it's a little rude to just ring someone's bell and ask them for candy!"
But they only got one sour puss who said he'd give them some candy, but seriously...they needed to hurry home and watch the World Series.  It was getting good.
The game must have kept a lot of dads glued to the TV, because there were handfuls of candy dumped into the bags.  The girls were excited, because the end of trick or treating is the beginning of the real fun...

Trade ins!!!
Remarkably, there was quite a bit of the haul that one kid or the other could eat.  There were Trader Joe's Semi Dark chocolate bars that read free of gluten and dairy (and dye), Necco wafers from a knowledgeable friend (free of the top 8 and dye, but comprising mostly of corn), Yummy Earth Lollipops, treat size Annie's Bunny crackers (safe for Bumblebee), a few chocolate bars safe for only bumblebee (including a full sized 3 Musketeers...which she called "super gigantic") some pixie stick like candy that was actually uncolored, and some yellow starbursts that I'm not overly happy about Penguin eating, but they are blue dye free and we know it's blue that's bad for her.  All in all a good haul even before I pulled out the good stuff to trade the dangerous in for...an Enjoy Life Boom Choco Boom bar and Florida's Natural fruit snacks.  (Plus our own treat bucket goodies)

If you're wondering what the trick or treaters who came to our house were treated to; we filled our goodie basket with pencils, notebooks, glow in the dark bats, silly bandz, stickers, and Florida's Naturals (Yes, there's corn in those.  But they're inexpensive, appealing and the kids can eat them.  Anyone with a corn allergy can have one of the party favors).  Basically, cheap, easy, and most of the leftovers will last until next year.  Oh...we gave out little rubber duckies, too, dressed in Halloween garb.  The little ones who actually pay any attention to what's going on love those.  :-)  (And my kids are claiming those leftovers)

And now we have enough candy to last us through Thanksgiving feasts, Holiday parties and both Christmas and New Years activities.  Oddly, this is Wednesday.  And although I've told them several times that they could have a treat after school, they keep going straight to the cupboard for fruit leather, or homemade muffins, or asking me to make porridge.  Which is fine...and probably healthier than those fun size candy bars...but there are bags of candy on the table, kids...Get to it before your dad does!!!  

Halloween Horrors

It's that time of year, again.  My sewing machine has been singing, cloth snippets sprinkle the floor, and everyone checks clothes piles for pins before snatching them off the sofa or lounging over them.  (A nasty habit I discourage, growl about, snap over yet never quite manage to eradicate) 
Costumes have taken shape.  Plans are made to decorate the front yard (although I'm not so sure the cobwebs will make it out...) and the excitement surrounding trick or treating is beginning to build.
School parties are also being planned, and the buzz on all the parenting with food allergy boards centers on the challenge of preparing appealing treats that the kids will enjoy.

Unfortunately, although we've all read and raved over "The Unhealthy Truth", I see that it just hasn't been taken to heart by many.
In the face of adversity...and potential tears or disappointment...the worst in us comes out.  Parents who spring for organic milk, hormone free meat, and all natural juice are stocking their cupboards with vibrant sprinkles, frighteningly neon chewy candies, bright lollipops and other chemical experiments. Favorite ghoul goodies of the year include crispy rice treats, made with marshmallows (corn syrup, blue dye and powdered sugar), crisped rice cereal, margarine and lots of sugar, colored with bottled coloring or decorated with canned frosting (more corn syrup and several preservatives and artificial flavoring compounds) and food coloring gels; clear cups filled with artificially vibrant colors of gelatin decorated to look like monster heads, and of course homemade cookies and cupcakes with monstrous amounts of tinted icing.
These goodies can be made without gluten, or dairy, or nuts.  They are free of the top 8 allergens and sometimes even a few more.  They can delight kids who eat the evil eight on a daily basis, while allowing our own necessarily deprived kids feel like one of the bunch.
It's lonely having allergies that preclude even those decorations.  Although, I'm happy for the excited parents and the smiling recipients.  
Unfortunately, I can't help but wonder what the long term trade off is.
Artificial colors trigger major migraines in my oldest.  Studies show that they cause hyperactive activity in children not diagnosed with ADHD.  They are a neurological stimulant.  And certain ones are linked to cancer in laboratory animals. 
And they don't even have any redeeming nutritional flavor.  And, as petrochemicals derived from coal tar, they're bad for the environment to boot. 

Halloween isn't just a once a year, rare treat excuse for a food fest.  It's the gateway to 3 months full of food related activities.  As we finish off the Trick or Treat leftovers, we'll start in on Friendship Feasts, winter wonderlands, and ending with Valentines.  Then a short break before spring and summer parties.  More sugar, more food coloring to cover the absence of allergens.
As we drift farther into the year away from 'candy day' we tell ourselves that we're cutting back.  But in reality, Halloween is the setback day.  We make an allowance for this one "special day" of sugar and sweet poisons, then we simply spend the next several months making less bad choices, remembering how much junk we sent coursing through our brains and intestines to celebrate the spirits...and congratulate ourselves on comparative restraint.
My kids know that food colorings aren't a special treat.  They'll be not only content, but giddy over a few chocolate bars and some Yummy Earth Lollipops, supplemented with silly bandz. 
Of course, they are blessed with an immediate reaction.  They can look at a confection and weigh it's tantalizing taste with tonight's pain, and although I recognize the maturity involved it breaks my heart to see them struggle.  
Unfortunately, this is the time of year when dye triggered reactions or 'allergies' are the loneliest.  As I bond with other food allergy moms, I'm still the odd man out...but even if I COULD give my kids that stuff, I like to think I wouldn't want to.  I realize that it would be a slippery slope, one I'm glad not to have to navigate. 
Meanwhile, we'll enjoy the finer points of Halloween.  The harvest festivals, the scarecrows and pumpkin carving, the costumes and spooky decorations.  We'll bake cookies, and squash, and put away the air conditioner.  We'll turn on the porch light and sip cocoa.  And the kids will tumble into bed, having survived the toughest food allergy holiday of the year. 

There is nothing in our society more emotional than the subject of food.  Just ask any mother to be...the battle between breast and bottle usurps more conversations and internet boards than any other newborn topic.  Then there is the question of when to introduce solids (You're a bad mom if you intro too early.  An even worse one if you starve your poor darling by introducing 'too late'.  And the standards keep changing.)  Then there are religious dietary restrictions.  Health nuts.  Food allergies.  Food intolerances.  Behavior disorders responding to dietary intervention.  Pesticides, salicylates, MSG, preservatives, sugar and transfats.
However...although many of these may bring about a spike in blood pressure, or a bona fide shouting match...the most explosive issue in PTA meetings across America can be the issue surrounding a simple Peanut Butter sandwich.
It's simple.  It's easy.  It's tasty.  It's deadly to a select few.
And that's what adults can't even wrap their brains around.
It scares me to think what kids can do.  That even at their most malicious, the elementary school kids who pick up on their parents' annoyance with a potential peanut butter ban or their classmates obvious avoidance of anything peanut related, won't realize the potential cost of exposure.  They may think they're being funny by shoving a granola bar under an allergy sufferer's nose, or smearing peanut butter on someone's arm.  They may know it's mean.  But teasing, in their brains, is designed to demonstrate the futility of an irrational fear.  There's no room in their for the possibility that a fear of food could possibly be rational.
What really scares me are the potential consequences.  Not just for the victim, but the attacker.
Imagine that you're 8 years old.  You hate pink.  You passionately hate pink.  Your friend's favorite color is pink, and she happens to wear a pink baseball cap to school one day.  "Wear it!" she says, and you shake your head.
This evolves into a battle of wills, and at some point she jumps up and pops it on your head...you brush it off, glare at her, the teacher tells you both to knock it off, she giggles uncomfortably and you later make up.
Now imagine you're the "bully" with the pink cap.  And your friend says she doesn't want to wear it.  After insisting that it's pretty, it'll look nice, it won't clash with her iron-red hair, you pop it on her head...and she knocks it off, falls down and starts gasping for breath.  An ambulance arrives and she's rushed to the hospital, unconscious.
Obviously, you're at fault for forcing the cap over her head.  You knew she didn't like pink, didn't want to wear the cap, and you refused to accept her wishes.  But you didn't comprehend that putting a cap on her head could kill her.
It's the same thing with food allergies.  For the vast majority of kids, food is simply an aesthetic experience.  They may not like certain textures or temperatures, or flavors.  But they express their unique opinions and that's that.  Most adults experience childhood opinions simply as an extension of their sense of selves...kids express opinions and in their limited lifespan sense that whether they get a red or green lollipop is a matter of life and death; they want to live...they want a red one like their best friend or they'll be doomed to dorky green forever.  (This is what spawned the infamous "Get what you get and don't throw a fit" saying)
Unfortunately, food allergic kids get lumped in the same category as the doomed dorks...the ones who are picky, won't eat crusts or colors or soggy crackers.  The ones who recoil from plantlike objects on their plate.

It's a hard situation.  No one can fault the tuna fish lover for sticking their tongue out at the picky eater or waving their odorous sandwich under the nose of someone who's pretending to gag.  As long as both parties are having relative fun, it's relatively harmless.
But what about a kid who is fearful of peanut butter sandwiches...because they have an epi pen sequestered in their belt?  Or because they've recently tested positive for peanuts as an allergen and their parents are in the process of ascertaining how serious the allergy is?  Their fear is real, based on symptomatic consequences, not aesthetics.
How is a yard duty to know the difference between one kid screaming "No, keep that sandwich away!" because it's gross and they make people laugh by reacting, and another screaming "No, keep it away" out of real fear?  The fact is they can't.  At this point in time, the severity and far reaching implications of food allergy are just too abstract for most people.   
Food allergies shouldn't relegate a kid to a lifelong bubble.  A child with food restrictions is still a child, first and foremost.  They deserve to live life to the fullest of their ability, and even the ADA protects that right.  
Which is why the new trend of Food Bullies is so disturbing.  Neither the bully nor the victim are sure how to define it.  Even witnesses might not process, immediately, the dangers of what's going on.  But, it impacts a child's sense of safety.  It threatens certain children's safety, and perhaps their lives. 
My kids are lucky.  If faced with a food bully, they will be annoyed.  Frustrated, their feelings possibly hurt.  Penguin assures me that the worst bullies she sees are substitute teachers, who tell her that milk is important and she will get very sick if she keeps refusing to drink it.  I'm not sure if this makes me pleased, or sad.  Since the behavior is obviously judgemental, but not necessarily bullying.  And there's not much I can do (other than calling the office each time it happens to express my displeasure.  Which I do.  I don't think it's happened in awhile, it's just made a deep impact.)  Anyways...my kids will survive food bullies.
But not every parent can literally say the same.
Not every bully is intentional, and that thought is just as scary.
I will continue to teach my kids the importance of tolerance, and accepting that something specific might be important to one person for reasons that we simply can't comprehend but should respect.  

Jealousy

Jealousy burns, bitter and sour, a shield against hurt and anger.  Frustration.
Some parents get to look at a treat lovingly prepared by their kids, and see the pride, the smiling faces.  All they have to fear is a bit of dust, unclean hands.  Unique flavoring, and how exactly to keep themselves from betraying their misgivings.
And then there's the food allergy parent.  The corn allergy parent, to be exact.
My loving kids ransacked their brains and raided the kitchen.  They found bananas, strawberries, and chocolate chips.  They searched the cupboards for real chopsticks.  They put two and two together and tucked them, secretly, into the freezer.  A few hours later, they began bugging me for popsicles.
I knew something was up...but not what.
I treasure the pride, the ear-to-ear grins, the shining eyes.
But they were out of safe bananas last time I went to the store.  And I tend to react to store bought strawberries.
So all I could do was squish them up tight in a hug, grin back my tears, and thank them from the bottom of my heart, while breaking theirs.
Maybe it's not such a big deal to say "not right now" if you don't have food allergies.  Maybe just the restrictions make food itself seem like a much bigger deal than it is.  But it gets old, being on my toes all the time.
Choosing whether to grin and bear the digestive disturbances that go on and on and on...or the discomfort of being in the spotlight.
I know the grass is always greener.  We have so much to be thankful for.  But tonight, I'm feeling sad.
And in dire need of a chocolate covered banana that hasn't been gassed to ripen properly.  At least the kids aren't too old to snuggle up and watch "Road to El Dorado" with me.  A good snuggle and a funny movie might just make up for it all. 
Well, that and a handful of chocolate chips.