My daughter Bumblebee is...intense.
She's always been exceptional. Exceptionally sweet. Exceptionally loud. Exceptionally shy. Exceptionally quiet. Exceptionally precious.
When she was 2 ish, we went to the doctor for some run of the mill cold. She was terrified, and turned off. I was irritated with her. He suggested an evaluation for autism.
I struggled with the thought, the number for First 5 California in my hand. But as I snuggled her close and held a 2 sided conversation with her about the incident, I felt that autism was way too extreme. Out of the question.
My child was shy, that's all.
When she buried her head in my lap after racing off the playground with a high pitched scream because 2 other kids appeared on the monkey bars, I felt a fluttering of concern. But a label?
Our next discussion with the doctor left me thinking she was just special. Shy.
Yes, shy. Shy was a good label.
When she collapsed in the middle of a new gymnastics class, carefully covering her head so she couldn't make eye contact with the coaches or the helpers (who promptly chased me down in the parking lot, to return and sit through the next 8 "No parents allowed under any circumstances" classes) I shook my head. She's exceptionally shy. But special, we all agreed. There's something about her.
Discussion with the doctor left us reassured. Sure, there's something. There's something about everyone. She's shy, obviously. We could look for another label. But is it worth it? Labels tend to follow children. They set them up for expectations in school. They can leave the kids giving up on themselves. Labels lead to medication. What did we want in a label? What we were doing was obviously working. And she was sure to outgrow it.
When she started Kindergarten, our hearts soared. She came home grinning and full of stories (we later learned her part was played much differently than the version we heard from her, but hey...they were great stories)
They plummeted as soon as she tired out and began crying. When she'd cried for a week straight questions arose.
We ruled out bullying, abuse (I'm still smarting from the inquisition of my older daughter, although she didn't know what the implications were. Of course, we had the same questions to rule out about school personnel, so how offended can I be?) and physical issues. Her teacher was a saint who'd loved her since her sister was in Kindergarten 4 years previously. That left...something. Our combined patience would have impressed Job himself.
Again, the doctor's "We should think about evaluating her, have we talked about autism?" comment haunted me. Millions of teen-mom talks returned to replay themselves in my head (and I wasn't quite a teen mom. More of a college mom. I was 24 when Bumblebee made her appearance. But around here, that's early.) All those red flags I'd been ignoring jumped out and flapped in my face. Something was WRONG.
By May, she needed to be restrained so I could leave the premises. However, we all agreed that giving in and keeping her home was not the right course of action. She's bright. She reads ahead of her age level, her math skills are excellent, her comprehension on track or above. She had friends. She was grinning after school each day. Her only complaint about school was that it was too long and didn't have enough learning. But she'd cry in anticipation of my leaving.
Starting the night before.
The only diagnosis we could get was anxiety, with a question mark. It was out of her pediatrician's comfort zone, our insurance sucks and we waited for our last hope...the school counselor.
She agrees. There's...something.
But labels follow a child.
Labels set a child up for preconceived notions.
What would we really want from a label? What could it offer that we aren't getting now?
Although she's struggling, whatever we're doing is definitely working. She's doing "better". She's just...crying sometimes. And screaming. Melting down on occasion. Without a reward. We're doing the "right things".
A label might tell us why they don't work the way we want. But it isn't going to help the right things work any better.
And do we really want to resort to medication? Because that's where labels lead.
No.
No we don't want to resort to meds. No we don't think they're necessary. No, we don't need a label.
We thought we'd hit on something after reading "The Unhealthy Truth" and eliminated food dyes. And yes, food dye definitely impacts her anxiety. A candy cane recently set off the entire "You hate me, you hate me, you hate me! Stop hating me! Stop yelling!" routine when I said a simple "Hey sleepy head, it's time for school!" They handed them out in girl scouts the night before, and I wasn't thinking.
But the fussing, the morning foot-dragging, the begging after school for a quiet day with no play dates and no carpool driving, the insistence on "Please let me stay home, I can call you. I know how to dial the phone, and I can call the police, too, if the house burns down or somebody breaks in." The refusal to go to a park, or the toy store, sometimes even a birthday party. It's wearing on me. And making me think again, there's something missing.
I don't want to label her.
But as our neighbor child watches with wide eyes and asks me in a stage whisper "What is wrong with her? That's not normal." I have to think again about labels.
They may set kids up.
But they also let parents off the hook.
A normal child would never get away with the fits Bumblebee throws. But I have to balance the screaming with the fact that she holds my hand and hasn't thrown herself into the street or the fact that she's aiming her feet at her mattress, not her sister, not her friends, not her mom, not even the window. She isn't pulling things off the shelves. And if I reprimand her, she will. Not because she wants to be destructive, but because she's out of control. She's out of control, and scared. My job is to reassure her, protect her from herself as well as the people in the area who are judging and offering their two cents, or worse--intervening.
Labels are answers. Even if they don't mean anything, if I could explain the tantrum with a roll of my eyes, an apologetic smile and "Generalized Anxiety Disorder" or "Sensory processing issues" or even if she were "on the spectrum," No one would even have to know what I meant. They'd just accept it and nod knowingly, walk away.
It's not even something that happens very often, but when it does...I realize that labels do have a place. Even if it's just for parental piece of mind.
Sometimes I wish we'd gone that route.
But when it comes to parenting, I won't have the answers for another 20 years. And even then, I'll only know I took the right path if my kids decide to tell me I did. I can only hope I don't look back and know it was the wrong one.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Online Safety
I have an 11 year old dd. She is not allowed free realm on the computer. I monitor her email, her surfing, her homework site, her online gaming site (which is protected so that kids can't inadvertently share any identifying information)
However, she has a life outside of electronics.
After school, she went to an activity as usual. During this activity, there is lots of downtime for homework or reading. She reads. An acquaintance was playing with their DS. Penguin was called over when said acquaintance hissed "Hey, Penguin, what school do you go to?"
She answered. Then was told that "this guy" in a chat room "knows her".
The chat went something like "OMG, so do you guys know (insert popular nickname)"
"You mean (insert last name)"
"Yeah, I went to like preschool with her. Where does she go now?"
They exchanged the names of several kids in the activity, and clarified when it ended in case he wanted to meet them. He didn't show up.
She has been informed that she is to remain glued to the instructor until an adult she knows (carpool driver) arrives to pick her up, regardless of anyone knowing her name. She isn't even to go to the bathroom alone after this.
But what bothers me most is that the instructors aren't concerned. The other parents I know at first were amused until I pointed out that mystery-kid didn't share any identifying info. He just claimed to know the other kids, by using common first names and nicknames. He was given first and last names of class participants, schools attended and the time frame they are least supervised. And everyone, including the parents, think it's cool. (Put this way, they no longer think it's cute and a whole lot of other kids are getting a talk about online safety, and how it extends to any text message setting.)
Most likely it was a real kid. Sitting, waiting for a parent or sibling, bored out of his mind.
But what if it wasn't?
It's frightening to think how easily all this info was gleaned from kids. How anxious they were to share. Penguin has been given a quick, prettied up (but scary enough for her to listen) lesson in reality. There are bad people out there. If you can't see someone, you don't know if they're boy, girl woman or man. And you don't know how old they are. In the words of an old online friend, I'd much rather hug my child as I tell her a story I don't want her to hear, than hold her (or worse, not hold her) while I listen to a real life nightmare unfold.
However, she has a life outside of electronics.
After school, she went to an activity as usual. During this activity, there is lots of downtime for homework or reading. She reads. An acquaintance was playing with their DS. Penguin was called over when said acquaintance hissed "Hey, Penguin, what school do you go to?"
She answered. Then was told that "this guy" in a chat room "knows her".
The chat went something like "OMG, so do you guys know (insert popular nickname)"
"You mean (insert last name)"
"Yeah, I went to like preschool with her. Where does she go now?"
They exchanged the names of several kids in the activity, and clarified when it ended in case he wanted to meet them. He didn't show up.
She has been informed that she is to remain glued to the instructor until an adult she knows (carpool driver) arrives to pick her up, regardless of anyone knowing her name. She isn't even to go to the bathroom alone after this.
But what bothers me most is that the instructors aren't concerned. The other parents I know at first were amused until I pointed out that mystery-kid didn't share any identifying info. He just claimed to know the other kids, by using common first names and nicknames. He was given first and last names of class participants, schools attended and the time frame they are least supervised. And everyone, including the parents, think it's cool. (Put this way, they no longer think it's cute and a whole lot of other kids are getting a talk about online safety, and how it extends to any text message setting.)
Most likely it was a real kid. Sitting, waiting for a parent or sibling, bored out of his mind.
But what if it wasn't?
It's frightening to think how easily all this info was gleaned from kids. How anxious they were to share. Penguin has been given a quick, prettied up (but scary enough for her to listen) lesson in reality. There are bad people out there. If you can't see someone, you don't know if they're boy, girl woman or man. And you don't know how old they are. In the words of an old online friend, I'd much rather hug my child as I tell her a story I don't want her to hear, than hold her (or worse, not hold her) while I listen to a real life nightmare unfold.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Is Gluten Free really Healthier?
The new "fad diet"; Gluten free! Is it really healthier?
There seems to be a lot of confusion. Whole foods offers healthy options. Whole foods offers organic produce. Whole foods offers eco friendly products. Whole Foods also offers Gluten Free goodies. Therefore; gluten free is healthy for everyone, right?
Well, maybe. But simply eating gluten free products isn't necessarily healthy for anyone (Celiac patients included!)
As we've covered before, gluten is the protein found in wheat, rye, barley and sometimes oats. For people with Celiac Disease, it causes an immune response which damages the intestines. This is serious...without the little villi in your intestinal walls, you don't digest your food properly. Which means, you can get malnourished.
Some people are simple sensitive to gluten. And with all the research going on, some people wonder if gluten is good for anyone. Others are concerned because a gluten free diet appears limiting. Could it possibly be safe to give up wheat?
The thing is, our society relies too heavily on grains. It's not unusual for the typical American to eat a bowl of wheat cereal with some toast, snack on a bagel, eat a sandwich for lunch, some pizza and salad with croutons for dinner, wash it down with a handful of cookies and call it a relatively rounded diet. In fact, they just ate several days' worth of gluten (and corn) with a bit of veggie and meat thrown in for flavor.
If you eat the typical American fare, and simply substitute your bread for a gluten free variety your pocketbook is going to take a serious hit. Your body won't thank you much, either. Gluten free baking relies on a variety of starches and sugars to create an acceptable mouthfeel, and please our tastebuds. In some ways, a slice of gluten free white bread isn't nearly as healthy as a slice of whole grain wheat. (Unless you have Celiac Disease, of course, in which case the whole grain wheat is equivalent to eating arsenic. Don't do it.)
However, a healthy diet can be gluten free. Vegetables are gluten free. Potatoes, meats, eggs and fruit are gluten free. You can eat a varied diet, a rainbow of nutrients, without touching a grain of gluten. A gluten free diet that involves a variety of nutrients, from a plethora of sources, is perfectly healthy.
However, like most diets, its easy to follow an unhealthy version. And too many people look for the easy way out. Eating gluten free convenience items, which have been altered to be gluten free, is no different than eating regular convenience foods all the time. Except that most gluten free foods aren't enriched with synthetic vitamins to make them look a little healthier.
In other words, turning a dish gluten free doesn't "healthy it up". Leaving an ingredient out of a meal does not improve it's health content in and of itself. But there are a myriad of healthy, whole food menus that don't include gluten (Or dairy, or corn. At least, in their natural state). Since grains are a relatively recent addition to the human diet, real food can naturally be gluten free. And tasty too.
I know my diet is far from ideal. My goal is simply healthIER. Not genuinely healthy. In this society, it would be pretty difficult to reach that lofty ambition.
There seems to be a lot of confusion. Whole foods offers healthy options. Whole foods offers organic produce. Whole foods offers eco friendly products. Whole Foods also offers Gluten Free goodies. Therefore; gluten free is healthy for everyone, right?
Well, maybe. But simply eating gluten free products isn't necessarily healthy for anyone (Celiac patients included!)
As we've covered before, gluten is the protein found in wheat, rye, barley and sometimes oats. For people with Celiac Disease, it causes an immune response which damages the intestines. This is serious...without the little villi in your intestinal walls, you don't digest your food properly. Which means, you can get malnourished.
Some people are simple sensitive to gluten. And with all the research going on, some people wonder if gluten is good for anyone. Others are concerned because a gluten free diet appears limiting. Could it possibly be safe to give up wheat?
The thing is, our society relies too heavily on grains. It's not unusual for the typical American to eat a bowl of wheat cereal with some toast, snack on a bagel, eat a sandwich for lunch, some pizza and salad with croutons for dinner, wash it down with a handful of cookies and call it a relatively rounded diet. In fact, they just ate several days' worth of gluten (and corn) with a bit of veggie and meat thrown in for flavor.
If you eat the typical American fare, and simply substitute your bread for a gluten free variety your pocketbook is going to take a serious hit. Your body won't thank you much, either. Gluten free baking relies on a variety of starches and sugars to create an acceptable mouthfeel, and please our tastebuds. In some ways, a slice of gluten free white bread isn't nearly as healthy as a slice of whole grain wheat. (Unless you have Celiac Disease, of course, in which case the whole grain wheat is equivalent to eating arsenic. Don't do it.)
However, a healthy diet can be gluten free. Vegetables are gluten free. Potatoes, meats, eggs and fruit are gluten free. You can eat a varied diet, a rainbow of nutrients, without touching a grain of gluten. A gluten free diet that involves a variety of nutrients, from a plethora of sources, is perfectly healthy.
However, like most diets, its easy to follow an unhealthy version. And too many people look for the easy way out. Eating gluten free convenience items, which have been altered to be gluten free, is no different than eating regular convenience foods all the time. Except that most gluten free foods aren't enriched with synthetic vitamins to make them look a little healthier.
In other words, turning a dish gluten free doesn't "healthy it up". Leaving an ingredient out of a meal does not improve it's health content in and of itself. But there are a myriad of healthy, whole food menus that don't include gluten (Or dairy, or corn. At least, in their natural state). Since grains are a relatively recent addition to the human diet, real food can naturally be gluten free. And tasty too.
I know my diet is far from ideal. My goal is simply healthIER. Not genuinely healthy. In this society, it would be pretty difficult to reach that lofty ambition.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Surviving, with no regrets.
I think we're going to make it.
After 6 days of fever (the first 3 spent entirely in bed) for one, 2 days of very high fever for another, and Mommy trying to lose count of her own fever daze; I think we're on the mend. Mr. Violets is still managing to pick up the household chores, and going to work, too. (3 cheers!)
I also have no regrets about not getting the H1N1 vaccine.
Sure, I felt awful. And watching my kids suffer only increased this feeling of guilt. What if I could have stopped it? Good heavens, if I can suffer instead I will. (Especially as my baby girl just laid there with a fever of 104 that wouldn't budge, sipping at water and occasionally asking if I thought she'd be better in time to do her timeline at school. What could I say? "Not today, kiddo." Checked with the dr. No breathing difficulty, I wasn't really concerned about anything other than the heat that radiated from her tiny body. And the occasional tremors that started whenever she'd start to cool off, her body's way of increasing heat to bring her core temperature up to it's desired temp. 104. I've learned from her sister that 107 is now considered the "not compatible with survival" red flag. But most people stick with 104 since it makes you feel rotten enough to look scary and as far as germs are concerned there's not much difference between a 101 fever and a 106 one. Both will kill off invaders.)
What's wrong with me? Has the fever cooked my brains? (Maybe, I was having some pretty interesting dreams about Percy Jackson...But only because the final book finally came in at the library, just in time for flu season.) A simple shot, a pinprick, a magic bullet could have prevented the past week's suffering.
No, seriously. We had it. We're on the mend. We missed a week of school, for which I feel bad. I know that the school desperately needs the money it loses each day a student stays home, whether it's due to illness, funerals, vacations, lice, spinning to fast on the playground, or a bee sting. I know the that each day is important to academic success. I know that the routine of going to school daily is vital for the kids to learn, and respect, and accept.
I also know that the flu happens. It's mother nature. It's life. It's a long lived cycle. Illnesses, epidemics, occur repeatedly throughout history. In fighting the flu, I felt like we were fighting a known enemy. Maybe the pathogen was more difficult to recognize. Maybe our powers of prediction were tested in this particular case. But in the end, it was us versus a virus. It felt like a fair fight.
Vaccines carry a lot of risks. Maybe it's just because I personally experienced a potentially life threatening reaction of partial paralysis (considered to be only a theoretical risk) but I'm wary of using medical science to try and outsmart nature. I feel like when we accept a vaccine, we're still playing a part in a massive double blind study.
They are predicting that the risk of serious adverse reactions are less than 1 per 100,000. That means that if everyone in the US were to stick their arms out for a vaccine, 30,000 would theoretically be damaged. Sacrificed for the good of the rest of the population.
Out of over 300 million people, 30 thousand really doesn't sound like so many. However, if you are the one in 100,000 your opinion will probably change significantly. The CDC admits that the vaccine was rushed. The multi-dose vials do contain thimerosol (an additive that's been linked to all sorts of nasty side effects.) For those who the vaccine takes effectiveness in (It's not 100% effective) it can take 10 days for immunity to take hold. Kids require 2 vaccines, spread 2 weeks apart. And vaccine clinics are just starting.
Quite frankly, this is early in flu season. Even if we'd jumped on the bandwagon, odds are that we'd have been hit anyways.
I'm not saying that vaccines are bad. They are one of many important tools we can use to protect those who are particularly susceptible. Infants, people with immune disorders, the elderly. (Although, the elderly seem to be pretty resilient against the current threat) I am saying that I felt much more at ease fighting off an infection using my own defenses than I'd feel watching my children rally against a reaction to an unknown agent. Is it a preservative allergy? A reaction to the vaccine itself? A different virus? Will there be permanent damage? And of course the haunting questions yet to come...Did I cause, or even contribute to, this (insert medical condition here) by pinning down my baby to inject her with something, just because everybody else was doing it?
After 6 days of fever (the first 3 spent entirely in bed) for one, 2 days of very high fever for another, and Mommy trying to lose count of her own fever daze; I think we're on the mend. Mr. Violets is still managing to pick up the household chores, and going to work, too. (3 cheers!)
I also have no regrets about not getting the H1N1 vaccine.
Sure, I felt awful. And watching my kids suffer only increased this feeling of guilt. What if I could have stopped it? Good heavens, if I can suffer instead I will. (Especially as my baby girl just laid there with a fever of 104 that wouldn't budge, sipping at water and occasionally asking if I thought she'd be better in time to do her timeline at school. What could I say? "Not today, kiddo." Checked with the dr. No breathing difficulty, I wasn't really concerned about anything other than the heat that radiated from her tiny body. And the occasional tremors that started whenever she'd start to cool off, her body's way of increasing heat to bring her core temperature up to it's desired temp. 104. I've learned from her sister that 107 is now considered the "not compatible with survival" red flag. But most people stick with 104 since it makes you feel rotten enough to look scary and as far as germs are concerned there's not much difference between a 101 fever and a 106 one. Both will kill off invaders.)
What's wrong with me? Has the fever cooked my brains? (Maybe, I was having some pretty interesting dreams about Percy Jackson...But only because the final book finally came in at the library, just in time for flu season.) A simple shot, a pinprick, a magic bullet could have prevented the past week's suffering.
No, seriously. We had it. We're on the mend. We missed a week of school, for which I feel bad. I know that the school desperately needs the money it loses each day a student stays home, whether it's due to illness, funerals, vacations, lice, spinning to fast on the playground, or a bee sting. I know the that each day is important to academic success. I know that the routine of going to school daily is vital for the kids to learn, and respect, and accept.
I also know that the flu happens. It's mother nature. It's life. It's a long lived cycle. Illnesses, epidemics, occur repeatedly throughout history. In fighting the flu, I felt like we were fighting a known enemy. Maybe the pathogen was more difficult to recognize. Maybe our powers of prediction were tested in this particular case. But in the end, it was us versus a virus. It felt like a fair fight.
Vaccines carry a lot of risks. Maybe it's just because I personally experienced a potentially life threatening reaction of partial paralysis (considered to be only a theoretical risk) but I'm wary of using medical science to try and outsmart nature. I feel like when we accept a vaccine, we're still playing a part in a massive double blind study.
They are predicting that the risk of serious adverse reactions are less than 1 per 100,000. That means that if everyone in the US were to stick their arms out for a vaccine, 30,000 would theoretically be damaged. Sacrificed for the good of the rest of the population.
Out of over 300 million people, 30 thousand really doesn't sound like so many. However, if you are the one in 100,000 your opinion will probably change significantly. The CDC admits that the vaccine was rushed. The multi-dose vials do contain thimerosol (an additive that's been linked to all sorts of nasty side effects.) For those who the vaccine takes effectiveness in (It's not 100% effective) it can take 10 days for immunity to take hold. Kids require 2 vaccines, spread 2 weeks apart. And vaccine clinics are just starting.
Quite frankly, this is early in flu season. Even if we'd jumped on the bandwagon, odds are that we'd have been hit anyways.
I'm not saying that vaccines are bad. They are one of many important tools we can use to protect those who are particularly susceptible. Infants, people with immune disorders, the elderly. (Although, the elderly seem to be pretty resilient against the current threat) I am saying that I felt much more at ease fighting off an infection using my own defenses than I'd feel watching my children rally against a reaction to an unknown agent. Is it a preservative allergy? A reaction to the vaccine itself? A different virus? Will there be permanent damage? And of course the haunting questions yet to come...Did I cause, or even contribute to, this (insert medical condition here) by pinning down my baby to inject her with something, just because everybody else was doing it?
Sunday, November 01, 2009
It's NOT just in your head...
For years doctors have claimed that the vast majority of gut complaints are the direct result of emotional stability. Stress. Anxiety. Control issues.
Elaine Gottschal watched a diet prescribed by Dr. Haas heal her daughter. She went on to write a book, now published as "Breaking the Viscious Cycle," which embraced the theory that gut bacteria were intrinsically linked to whole health. Especially gastrointestinal health.
Elaine went on to explain that the bad bugs crave sugar...in essence causing the human host to crave sugar. (Try and explain this to the typical MD, and he'll try very hard not to laugh directly at you.) She also explained how obesity can be caused by starvation...the bad bugs "stealing" all those yummy carbs and sugars.
After only 60 years or so, medical science has begun to wake up and agree. Those carb cravings may not be just in our heads (and tastebuds). Neither are they a product of our genes. Nope, studies have proven that people who eat chocolate have different intestinal bacteria than people who do not eat chocolate, leading to a difference in various metabolic byproducts in the blood and urine of test subjects.
Studies have also proven that intestinal flora changes after a change in weight.
Scientists feel this is exciting because if we can find ways to manipulate the bacteria, we can nudge it in the right direction for people trying to meet specific goals.
I wonder what far reaching research could lead to? They're already experimenting with certain parasites to treat Crohns disease, acknowledging that probiotics are vital for intestinal health, and begrudgingly admitting that natural vitamins might serve humans better than synthetic ones. What can gut bacteria teach us about allergies and autoimmune disorders?
What else is "all in our head", but really tied to the gut?
Elaine Gottschal watched a diet prescribed by Dr. Haas heal her daughter. She went on to write a book, now published as "Breaking the Viscious Cycle," which embraced the theory that gut bacteria were intrinsically linked to whole health. Especially gastrointestinal health.
Elaine went on to explain that the bad bugs crave sugar...in essence causing the human host to crave sugar. (Try and explain this to the typical MD, and he'll try very hard not to laugh directly at you.) She also explained how obesity can be caused by starvation...the bad bugs "stealing" all those yummy carbs and sugars.
After only 60 years or so, medical science has begun to wake up and agree. Those carb cravings may not be just in our heads (and tastebuds). Neither are they a product of our genes. Nope, studies have proven that people who eat chocolate have different intestinal bacteria than people who do not eat chocolate, leading to a difference in various metabolic byproducts in the blood and urine of test subjects.
Studies have also proven that intestinal flora changes after a change in weight.
Scientists feel this is exciting because if we can find ways to manipulate the bacteria, we can nudge it in the right direction for people trying to meet specific goals.
I wonder what far reaching research could lead to? They're already experimenting with certain parasites to treat Crohns disease, acknowledging that probiotics are vital for intestinal health, and begrudgingly admitting that natural vitamins might serve humans better than synthetic ones. What can gut bacteria teach us about allergies and autoimmune disorders?
What else is "all in our head", but really tied to the gut?
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Out of the mouths of...well, kids and tweens?
I love chatting with my kids. They say the funniest things. They may not be toddlers still exploring their world, but as big kids they still are learning, discovering, and discovering their own identities. This means they can say some really amusing things. And I like to share my stories. A blog seems like the ideal spot to do that. Here are a few favorites from this week:
--Penguin explained that they were talking about flying cars earlier. And she thought it would be funny in the future when they thought that those weird things on wheels in the museum were labeled "Cars" pronouncing it "Sarz", because of the C. Even more confusing because it's short for Automobile.
Wait. That really doesn't make sense. Huh. Why do they call cars, 'cars'?
I don't know.
--(After a rough afternoon) Me "Hey, we don't kick even if we are mad at someone."
Bumblebee: "I wasn't kicking. I was putting my feet on you HARD."
--Penguin (While shopping earlier this week) "Oh, look, they're building something! I hope they don't take down that really old pretty dead tree. It's so pretty! But I think it's dead. It looks dead. It's pretty, though."
--Bumblebee "I wonder why we give out candy for Halloween. The real spirit of Halloween is to remember dead people and scare away bad spirits. What does that have to do with dressing like Hannah Montana?"
--Bumblebee, on hearing her sister has a fever the morning of Halloween: "Why does Penguin have to be sick on holidays? It's not fun to be sick on Holidays. Except Christmas. Because on Christmas you still can have fun even when you're sick. You just give people their presents late."
--Penguin explained that they were talking about flying cars earlier. And she thought it would be funny in the future when they thought that those weird things on wheels in the museum were labeled "Cars" pronouncing it "Sarz", because of the C. Even more confusing because it's short for Automobile.
Wait. That really doesn't make sense. Huh. Why do they call cars, 'cars'?
I don't know.
--(After a rough afternoon) Me "Hey, we don't kick even if we are mad at someone."
Bumblebee: "I wasn't kicking. I was putting my feet on you HARD."
--Penguin (While shopping earlier this week) "Oh, look, they're building something! I hope they don't take down that really old pretty dead tree. It's so pretty! But I think it's dead. It looks dead. It's pretty, though."
--Bumblebee "I wonder why we give out candy for Halloween. The real spirit of Halloween is to remember dead people and scare away bad spirits. What does that have to do with dressing like Hannah Montana?"
--Bumblebee, on hearing her sister has a fever the morning of Halloween: "Why does Penguin have to be sick on holidays? It's not fun to be sick on Holidays. Except Christmas. Because on Christmas you still can have fun even when you're sick. You just give people their presents late."
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Give that girl a gold star
"What?!? I don't get it," Bumblebee was snuggled up in my lap and is now scrunching up her eyebrows at my book.
Don't worry, it's an adult book, but not adult content! I'm reading "The Hundred Year Lie" and have hit the chapter on vitamins. I think I need to refrain from commenting out loud and reading random passages to my husband, at least in the hearing of little ears.
"At the level of molecules seen under an electron microscope, synthetic and natural vitamins may look similar to some chemists, but they don't assimilate the same way in the human body."
The above sentence is a direct quote from the page she's scratching her head over.
"What do they mean?" Bumblebee asks again. Hmm. How do I put that in seven year old speak?
"Well," I try, looking over the preceding paragraphs for guidance, "they take cornstarch and corn sugar and mix it up with chemicals until it looks like vitamin c under the microscope. And that's called synthetic, or fake, vitamin c. They did a study that says even though some synthetic, or fake, vitamins look the same under a microscope, they don't work the way vitamins in our food work."
She sits and thinks for awhile.
"So, they use a bunch of chemicals and make things that look like vitamins and smell like vitamins and taste like vitamins and feel like vitamins and sound like vitamins?"
"Um, yeah, essentially."
"And then they are surprised that they don't work like vitamins?"
"Yup, that's pretty much what that page is saying."
"But don't they know they're still chemicals? They aren't vitamins!"
"I know, but they look like vitamins under a microscope. So the scientists thought they'd be close enough."
"But they aren't."
"No," I acknowledge, "No, they aren't."
"I knew that," she says, "They're still chemicals. Only our food has real vitamins."
I agree with her.
"I'm seven and I'm smarter than a scientist," she ponders, "Maybe I can be a scientist when I grow up."
"That'd be nice," I tell her.
"And I'll draw my studies," she says, as if suddenly a problem is solved and everything has fallen into place.
"Okay," I smile at her. It is her life's ambition to be a "kid" artist so she won't have to grow up.
"Because an artist," she explains, "Is so busy all the time. Everyone wants pictures. Of themselves, and of pretty things. For like their windows, and their fridge, and everything! That's a lot of work. If I'm a scientist, I can still draw fun things and just maybe sell them for money."
Okay. This is priceless.
"And I can just do scientist stuff the rest of the time. Because no one wants anything from scientists. So, they aren't very busy. They just like, write books about their study and stuff. And maybe I'll draw pictures, because I'm good at drawing pictures."
I think that's a great idea.
I tell her that I hope she also remembers to think things through.
"Well, duh. I'm not going to forget that chemicals are NOT vitamins, even if I make them look like vitamins in a microscope." She tells me disparagingly.
That's my girl.
If anyone can take on the world and win, it's Bumblebee in righteous whirlwind mode.
((There was more to the conversation, and I may have gotten some of the wording slightly wrong. But I guarantee the heart of the matter is captured here.))
Don't worry, it's an adult book, but not adult content! I'm reading "The Hundred Year Lie" and have hit the chapter on vitamins. I think I need to refrain from commenting out loud and reading random passages to my husband, at least in the hearing of little ears.
"At the level of molecules seen under an electron microscope, synthetic and natural vitamins may look similar to some chemists, but they don't assimilate the same way in the human body."
The above sentence is a direct quote from the page she's scratching her head over.
"What do they mean?" Bumblebee asks again. Hmm. How do I put that in seven year old speak?
"Well," I try, looking over the preceding paragraphs for guidance, "they take cornstarch and corn sugar and mix it up with chemicals until it looks like vitamin c under the microscope. And that's called synthetic, or fake, vitamin c. They did a study that says even though some synthetic, or fake, vitamins look the same under a microscope, they don't work the way vitamins in our food work."
She sits and thinks for awhile.
"So, they use a bunch of chemicals and make things that look like vitamins and smell like vitamins and taste like vitamins and feel like vitamins and sound like vitamins?"
"Um, yeah, essentially."
"And then they are surprised that they don't work like vitamins?"
"Yup, that's pretty much what that page is saying."
"But don't they know they're still chemicals? They aren't vitamins!"
"I know, but they look like vitamins under a microscope. So the scientists thought they'd be close enough."
"But they aren't."
"No," I acknowledge, "No, they aren't."
"I knew that," she says, "They're still chemicals. Only our food has real vitamins."
I agree with her.
"I'm seven and I'm smarter than a scientist," she ponders, "Maybe I can be a scientist when I grow up."
"That'd be nice," I tell her.
"And I'll draw my studies," she says, as if suddenly a problem is solved and everything has fallen into place.
"Okay," I smile at her. It is her life's ambition to be a "kid" artist so she won't have to grow up.
"Because an artist," she explains, "Is so busy all the time. Everyone wants pictures. Of themselves, and of pretty things. For like their windows, and their fridge, and everything! That's a lot of work. If I'm a scientist, I can still draw fun things and just maybe sell them for money."
Okay. This is priceless.
"And I can just do scientist stuff the rest of the time. Because no one wants anything from scientists. So, they aren't very busy. They just like, write books about their study and stuff. And maybe I'll draw pictures, because I'm good at drawing pictures."
I think that's a great idea.
I tell her that I hope she also remembers to think things through.
"Well, duh. I'm not going to forget that chemicals are NOT vitamins, even if I make them look like vitamins in a microscope." She tells me disparagingly.
That's my girl.
If anyone can take on the world and win, it's Bumblebee in righteous whirlwind mode.
((There was more to the conversation, and I may have gotten some of the wording slightly wrong. But I guarantee the heart of the matter is captured here.))
Scene from the bedroom...
Penguin's at rehearsal. Bumblebee is quietly coloring in her room. Occasionally I hear her low voice, speaking quietly to our next door neighbor through the window.
I'm folding laundry.
Suddenly I hear a thunk, a screech, and a wild cry that does not belong to my child. I pause.
Bumblebees voice shouts "I'm sorry, okay,"
Another voice screeches "You hit me, you hit me, you hit me, it hurts!"
I drop the laundry.
Bumblebee is sitting wide eyed on her bed.
Neighbor child is standing outside the window, clutching her head with both hands and screeching "Bumblebee hit me, it hurts, it hurts!"
The window is intact.
So is the screen.
A quick investigation reveals no way for me to quickly or effectively reach injured neighbor child.
I look from one to the other, raise an eyebrow, sit back on my heels and ask Bumblebee what exactly happened.
"The stepstool I was coloring on flipped over and hit the window," she says, looking me right in the eye, "Apparently it hit Ms neighbor."
I look at the still-keening neighbor child.
"Um, Neighbor, Hon? Are you okay?" I ask through the screen.
"No, I was just sitting here playing and she hit me on purpose! It hurts so bad!" she wails.
"Okay," I say, still studying the intact screen and window frame, "Whose in charge today? Your sister? Do you need us to bring you an ice pack, or do you have one in the fridge?"
Suddenly the sobs stop. Her hands slowly drop away from her head. Wheels turn behind those eyes, but I have no idea what she's thinking.
"Um, I'm okay," she says, sniffing back the remnants of tears.
I study her for a moment.
"If you just got hit in the head with a stepstool, we should tell another adult about it," I tell her, imagining goose egg lumps and concussions. The stepstool is a nice, sturdy wooden one. "Do you need me to come explain what happened to whoever's in charge?"
The child is 6. I've seen the tag teams trade places. I hear voices speak to her on a regular basis. I know there's an adult over there somewhere.
Eyes widen. Head shakes quickly.
"No, that's okay. I'm okay. She did hit me, but um, I'm okay now. It didn't really hurt."
I give both girls another Look. Neighbor girl forces a nervous laugh. There are tear stains on her cheeks.
"How did she hit you in the head with a step stool without breaking the window?" I ask in exasperation.
"I don't know!" Bumblebee wails, "Stop yelling at me!"
"On purpose!" neighbor girl says, and flounces off.
Bumblebee flops down on the pillows and sobs broken heartedly.
Okay.
Those two are up to something. I just can't figure out what, exactly.
But I'm buying Bumblebee a cheap plastic lapdesk, just in case.
I'm folding laundry.
Suddenly I hear a thunk, a screech, and a wild cry that does not belong to my child. I pause.
Bumblebees voice shouts "I'm sorry, okay,"
Another voice screeches "You hit me, you hit me, you hit me, it hurts!"
I drop the laundry.
Bumblebee is sitting wide eyed on her bed.
Neighbor child is standing outside the window, clutching her head with both hands and screeching "Bumblebee hit me, it hurts, it hurts!"
The window is intact.
So is the screen.
A quick investigation reveals no way for me to quickly or effectively reach injured neighbor child.
I look from one to the other, raise an eyebrow, sit back on my heels and ask Bumblebee what exactly happened.
"The stepstool I was coloring on flipped over and hit the window," she says, looking me right in the eye, "Apparently it hit Ms neighbor."
I look at the still-keening neighbor child.
"Um, Neighbor, Hon? Are you okay?" I ask through the screen.
"No, I was just sitting here playing and she hit me on purpose! It hurts so bad!" she wails.
"Okay," I say, still studying the intact screen and window frame, "Whose in charge today? Your sister? Do you need us to bring you an ice pack, or do you have one in the fridge?"
Suddenly the sobs stop. Her hands slowly drop away from her head. Wheels turn behind those eyes, but I have no idea what she's thinking.
"Um, I'm okay," she says, sniffing back the remnants of tears.
I study her for a moment.
"If you just got hit in the head with a stepstool, we should tell another adult about it," I tell her, imagining goose egg lumps and concussions. The stepstool is a nice, sturdy wooden one. "Do you need me to come explain what happened to whoever's in charge?"
The child is 6. I've seen the tag teams trade places. I hear voices speak to her on a regular basis. I know there's an adult over there somewhere.
Eyes widen. Head shakes quickly.
"No, that's okay. I'm okay. She did hit me, but um, I'm okay now. It didn't really hurt."
I give both girls another Look. Neighbor girl forces a nervous laugh. There are tear stains on her cheeks.
"How did she hit you in the head with a step stool without breaking the window?" I ask in exasperation.
"I don't know!" Bumblebee wails, "Stop yelling at me!"
"On purpose!" neighbor girl says, and flounces off.
Bumblebee flops down on the pillows and sobs broken heartedly.
Okay.
Those two are up to something. I just can't figure out what, exactly.
But I'm buying Bumblebee a cheap plastic lapdesk, just in case.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Getting creative
Well, trying to get creative, anyways.
I have figured out my problem. The real trouble is quite simply the vast number of intolerances I'm juggling. Lets see...The sum total of everyone's current avoidances?
Gluten
Corn (and all of it's derivatives)
Dairy
Squash/gourds (Includes cucumber and melon)
Citrus
Cruciferous vegetables (broccolli etc)
Soy (lecithin okay)
Potatoes
Yeast
Refined sugar
pecans (and possibly other nuts)
Artificial dyes and preservatives
sesame (including oil)
kidney beans
asparagus
beef
pork
shellfish
Olives (including oil)
green beans
lentils
It seems like I'm forgetting something...Hmmm...
Plus all foods need to be carefully washed, peeled, and thoroughly cooked. Even fruit.
Avocados are the exception. Maybe overly ripe bananas.
Still crunchy onion in scrambled egg? Yum, but bad. Stuffing with nice, thick chunks of celery for crunch? Delish, but bad.
And there are foods that are good, but only in moderation. Sauteed spinach. Guar gum/xanthan gum (not good on any of our tummies) Quinoa. Beans. Artichokes. Sweet potatoes.
And foods that we're supposed to try under controlled conditions. Nuts/nut butters, tomatoes, anything "new".
And then there's the whole clueless-when-it-comes-to-meat issue.
It's hard to find food we all can eat!
Then you have to take into account food preferences. Bumblebee won't touch beans. Or chicken. Or sweet potatoes. Or...well, she's picky. It's better if her foods don't touch too much. And if they aren't soup. Or saucy. And if she can dip them in parmesan.
Penguin will experiment a bit. But she draws the line at fish. And you can never second guess her. Serve eggs at the wrong moment, and you hear for an hour about how they're "okay, except that they are just disgusting."
And if she doesn't eat, she gets a migraine and misses 2 days of school. (I'm not exaggerating. I can send her, but they send her right back.)
Tonight I was pondering the options. Penguin requested spaghetti (Tinkyada rice pasta) and I was obliging. Since I was craving beans and cheese, I made that on the side for dh and I.
It occurred to me that it wouldn't seem like spaghetti every day, if I could do more with it.
Perhaps stir in some tomato sauce. No, wait.
Maybe just veggies and cheese for a nice...no, wait.
Hmmm.
Well, I could do chow mein for all, sautee onions, garlic, peppers and scramble in some eggs. Drizzle with soy...oh, wait.
Dh and I like the soy-less chow mein. But Penguin prefers the soy cooked in. That takes an extra pot.
We'd like any of the cheese creations, too. But they're blends, so bumblebee will only look. And Penguin can't touch. 2 pots, again.
And Penguin and dh would enjoy the tomato bake, especially with olives. But me? Um, I'd like the taste. Tomorrow I'd regret it. And the next day. And the next. Maybe even next week.
We get back into the question of "what will I serve the rest of us?"
*sigh*
Roasted sweet potatoes and eggs for 3
Spagghetti with a variety of toppings feeds all
Rice feeds 3 (we can add beans, or fry it sans soy)
Chicken (with leftover starchy foods) feeds 2-3 of us
3 can eat dinner salads (or side salads made dinner size for those not partaking of the full meal) But the pots and stress of preventing cross contamination drive me batty.
I want to make the kitchen safe for all.
First, I need more options to play with...
Keep your fingers crossed that we pass the wasabi test this weekend. (hopefully this weekend, I reserve the right to back out at any moment.)
I'm not sure it will increase our options any, but man...do I want something spicy!
I have figured out my problem. The real trouble is quite simply the vast number of intolerances I'm juggling. Lets see...The sum total of everyone's current avoidances?
Gluten
Corn (and all of it's derivatives)
Dairy
Squash/gourds (Includes cucumber and melon)
Citrus
Cruciferous vegetables (broccolli etc)
Soy (lecithin okay)
Potatoes
Yeast
Refined sugar
pecans (and possibly other nuts)
Artificial dyes and preservatives
sesame (including oil)
kidney beans
asparagus
beef
pork
shellfish
Olives (including oil)
green beans
lentils
It seems like I'm forgetting something...Hmmm...
Plus all foods need to be carefully washed, peeled, and thoroughly cooked. Even fruit.
Avocados are the exception. Maybe overly ripe bananas.
Still crunchy onion in scrambled egg? Yum, but bad. Stuffing with nice, thick chunks of celery for crunch? Delish, but bad.
And there are foods that are good, but only in moderation. Sauteed spinach. Guar gum/xanthan gum (not good on any of our tummies) Quinoa. Beans. Artichokes. Sweet potatoes.
And foods that we're supposed to try under controlled conditions. Nuts/nut butters, tomatoes, anything "new".
And then there's the whole clueless-when-it-comes-to-meat issue.
It's hard to find food we all can eat!
Then you have to take into account food preferences. Bumblebee won't touch beans. Or chicken. Or sweet potatoes. Or...well, she's picky. It's better if her foods don't touch too much. And if they aren't soup. Or saucy. And if she can dip them in parmesan.
Penguin will experiment a bit. But she draws the line at fish. And you can never second guess her. Serve eggs at the wrong moment, and you hear for an hour about how they're "okay, except that they are just disgusting."
And if she doesn't eat, she gets a migraine and misses 2 days of school. (I'm not exaggerating. I can send her, but they send her right back.)
Tonight I was pondering the options. Penguin requested spaghetti (Tinkyada rice pasta) and I was obliging. Since I was craving beans and cheese, I made that on the side for dh and I.
It occurred to me that it wouldn't seem like spaghetti every day, if I could do more with it.
Perhaps stir in some tomato sauce. No, wait.
Maybe just veggies and cheese for a nice...no, wait.
Hmmm.
Well, I could do chow mein for all, sautee onions, garlic, peppers and scramble in some eggs. Drizzle with soy...oh, wait.
Dh and I like the soy-less chow mein. But Penguin prefers the soy cooked in. That takes an extra pot.
We'd like any of the cheese creations, too. But they're blends, so bumblebee will only look. And Penguin can't touch. 2 pots, again.
And Penguin and dh would enjoy the tomato bake, especially with olives. But me? Um, I'd like the taste. Tomorrow I'd regret it. And the next day. And the next. Maybe even next week.
We get back into the question of "what will I serve the rest of us?"
*sigh*
Roasted sweet potatoes and eggs for 3
Spagghetti with a variety of toppings feeds all
Rice feeds 3 (we can add beans, or fry it sans soy)
Chicken (with leftover starchy foods) feeds 2-3 of us
3 can eat dinner salads (or side salads made dinner size for those not partaking of the full meal) But the pots and stress of preventing cross contamination drive me batty.
I want to make the kitchen safe for all.
First, I need more options to play with...
Keep your fingers crossed that we pass the wasabi test this weekend. (hopefully this weekend, I reserve the right to back out at any moment.)
I'm not sure it will increase our options any, but man...do I want something spicy!
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Emotional Impact
I've now been gluten free for 4 years. And corn free for 6. Active in the food allergy cyber world for a little longer, as I began to delve into the world of food mediated reactions. After all, it takes a lot of courage to admit that something as benign and emotionally charged as food (especially so-called 'health food') could possibly be the root of physical pain. Especially when people are telling you the real problem is located a wee bit above the digestive organs.
In this time, I've seen plenty of other patients come and go along the food avoidance forums. And they all seem to share distinct traits, in shock, indignation, anger and feelings of being overwhelmed. There appears to be a cycle of grief involved in the process of food allergy diagnosis.
To that end, I've put together the following based solely on my observations as someome with no medical training, just a patient who reads and thinks. :-)
They say that there are 7 stages of grief that one must go through whenever they experience a loss. Usually this is discussed in terms of death or divorce. The process is often applied to people who live through disasters, such as fire or severe floods.
Food allergies don't exactly compare to fire, famine, or the loss of a loved one.
But they do constitute a major life change.
When you are diagnosed with food allergies or intolerances past infancy, they become a learning process. Life as you know it has changed, and favorite comfort foods may be lost. There is a grieving process to be gone through.
Few studies have been undertaken to truly study this process. And most professionals are still struggling to separate the emotional complications of medically restricted diets from those of eating disorders. Although the fundamental fear of food is the same, one side has a rational reason and the other (theoretically) has a somewhat irrational fear.
A few publications have dared to publish the deepest, darkest fears of food allergy sufferers. Most stick to the safe surface area. Wow, what do you eat? Wow, how would you survive? And of course, the heartfelt "Hurray, my life is different but it rocks, just the same."
But support groups know the truth. Newbies join online forums and dare to ask, in the safety of anonymity, 'Is this normal?'
Yes.
The stages of grief, as identified by grief counselors are as follows:
1. Shock and Denial. In the world of food allergies, this may mean not wanting to admit that the identified food really is the cause of reactions. Or that the reactions aren't "that bad". Or "Oh, well, at least I can take tomorrow off," and then take a risk. After all they "aren't as bad as some have it..."
2. Pain and Guilt. When the reality of a new style of eating starts to set in, there is a moment (or repeated moments) of panic. We think of pizza, ice cream, coffee creamer, doughnuts and other treats as necessities. How will we live without our favorite comfort foods? What will we do when we "have to" eat out?
For parents, the guilt sets in. What did we do wrong? Surely we should have been able to protect our beloved kids from the pain of exclusion. They deserve a "normal" life. At this stage, we aren't ready to reevaluate the meaning of normal. That process comes with acceptance.
3. Anger and Bargaining. We get angry at ourselves, our doctors, our bodies, even mother nature. Why should we have to suffer? Maybe we make bargains with ourselves. "If we let ourselves/our child cheat just this once, next time we'll be good." The consequences are usually enough to keep that phase from lasting very long. But if allergies are lie threatening, it can be a dangerous phase. And when it overlaps with the denial phase, or different caregivers hit different phases at the same time, it can be dangerous.
Some parents and siblings may also feel anger towards a child whose restrictions make a major impact on family life. While these feelings are normal, they should be short lived and should not cause any backlash against the child. Spouses, likewise, may feel anger towards the afflicted spouse. Again, the feelings are normal, but if they cause any retalliation against the afflicted one, outside help is needed.
4. Depression/loneliness. This phase tends to represent acceptance of the restrictions. It can be overwhelming. This is the phase where a patient, or an allergy patient's family, may withdraw. Its easier. It's safer. It's also when they need the most support.
5. The Upward Turn. At this point, there is some small success. A cake that tastes good, a compliment on some potluck dish, or the end of a successful evening out. I'll list it as separate, although it often is looped with the next two phases, and for many the first 5 appear to be relived repeatedly.
6. Reconstructing and Working Through: Depending on the food restriction,
7. Acceptance and Hope. This phase never ends. Although there will be backsliding, and occasional slips back to stages 3 and 4, on occasion as far as 2 or even back to denial (especially after feeling really well for a long period of time), once one has reached a point of acceptance, reachieving this stage seems easier and quicker each time.
Using and accepting these phases is vital to reaching a healthy balance in living with food restrictions, not just for the person affected by the restriction personally but for their close family members. There are separations and even incidents of divorce when one family member has trouble getting past feelings of denial or anger. Of course, this can increase feelings of guilt (especially for children) and depression or isolation (especially for parents dealing with nontraditional allergies and delayed reactions). A support system is vital.
Symptoms are not caused by stress. And simply eliminating a single offending food or group of foods is not always enough to alleviate all symptoms. There are remaining physical ailments (from digestive damage and malnutrion caused by years of eating the wrong foods) and there will be a variety of emotional stages. Acknowledging the grieving process is part of the road to complete healing. A wide variety of emotional feelings are normal in the course of diagnosis and learning to live with an allergy. And setbacks are normal, too.
In this time, I've seen plenty of other patients come and go along the food avoidance forums. And they all seem to share distinct traits, in shock, indignation, anger and feelings of being overwhelmed. There appears to be a cycle of grief involved in the process of food allergy diagnosis.
To that end, I've put together the following based solely on my observations as someome with no medical training, just a patient who reads and thinks. :-)
They say that there are 7 stages of grief that one must go through whenever they experience a loss. Usually this is discussed in terms of death or divorce. The process is often applied to people who live through disasters, such as fire or severe floods.
Food allergies don't exactly compare to fire, famine, or the loss of a loved one.
But they do constitute a major life change.
When you are diagnosed with food allergies or intolerances past infancy, they become a learning process. Life as you know it has changed, and favorite comfort foods may be lost. There is a grieving process to be gone through.
Few studies have been undertaken to truly study this process. And most professionals are still struggling to separate the emotional complications of medically restricted diets from those of eating disorders. Although the fundamental fear of food is the same, one side has a rational reason and the other (theoretically) has a somewhat irrational fear.
A few publications have dared to publish the deepest, darkest fears of food allergy sufferers. Most stick to the safe surface area. Wow, what do you eat? Wow, how would you survive? And of course, the heartfelt "Hurray, my life is different but it rocks, just the same."
But support groups know the truth. Newbies join online forums and dare to ask, in the safety of anonymity, 'Is this normal?'
Yes.
The stages of grief, as identified by grief counselors are as follows:
1. Shock and Denial. In the world of food allergies, this may mean not wanting to admit that the identified food really is the cause of reactions. Or that the reactions aren't "that bad". Or "Oh, well, at least I can take tomorrow off," and then take a risk. After all they "aren't as bad as some have it..."
2. Pain and Guilt. When the reality of a new style of eating starts to set in, there is a moment (or repeated moments) of panic. We think of pizza, ice cream, coffee creamer, doughnuts and other treats as necessities. How will we live without our favorite comfort foods? What will we do when we "have to" eat out?
For parents, the guilt sets in. What did we do wrong? Surely we should have been able to protect our beloved kids from the pain of exclusion. They deserve a "normal" life. At this stage, we aren't ready to reevaluate the meaning of normal. That process comes with acceptance.
3. Anger and Bargaining. We get angry at ourselves, our doctors, our bodies, even mother nature. Why should we have to suffer? Maybe we make bargains with ourselves. "If we let ourselves/our child cheat just this once, next time we'll be good." The consequences are usually enough to keep that phase from lasting very long. But if allergies are lie threatening, it can be a dangerous phase. And when it overlaps with the denial phase, or different caregivers hit different phases at the same time, it can be dangerous.
Some parents and siblings may also feel anger towards a child whose restrictions make a major impact on family life. While these feelings are normal, they should be short lived and should not cause any backlash against the child. Spouses, likewise, may feel anger towards the afflicted spouse. Again, the feelings are normal, but if they cause any retalliation against the afflicted one, outside help is needed.
4. Depression/loneliness. This phase tends to represent acceptance of the restrictions. It can be overwhelming. This is the phase where a patient, or an allergy patient's family, may withdraw. Its easier. It's safer. It's also when they need the most support.
5. The Upward Turn. At this point, there is some small success. A cake that tastes good, a compliment on some potluck dish, or the end of a successful evening out. I'll list it as separate, although it often is looped with the next two phases, and for many the first 5 appear to be relived repeatedly.
6. Reconstructing and Working Through: Depending on the food restriction,
7. Acceptance and Hope. This phase never ends. Although there will be backsliding, and occasional slips back to stages 3 and 4, on occasion as far as 2 or even back to denial (especially after feeling really well for a long period of time), once one has reached a point of acceptance, reachieving this stage seems easier and quicker each time.
Using and accepting these phases is vital to reaching a healthy balance in living with food restrictions, not just for the person affected by the restriction personally but for their close family members. There are separations and even incidents of divorce when one family member has trouble getting past feelings of denial or anger. Of course, this can increase feelings of guilt (especially for children) and depression or isolation (especially for parents dealing with nontraditional allergies and delayed reactions). A support system is vital.
Symptoms are not caused by stress. And simply eliminating a single offending food or group of foods is not always enough to alleviate all symptoms. There are remaining physical ailments (from digestive damage and malnutrion caused by years of eating the wrong foods) and there will be a variety of emotional stages. Acknowledging the grieving process is part of the road to complete healing. A wide variety of emotional feelings are normal in the course of diagnosis and learning to live with an allergy. And setbacks are normal, too.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Beauty is...
Every year, our school participates in the National PTA contest called "Reflections". Each child is encouraged to create a work of art; literary, visual, or photographic; share it with their classroom and submit it for judging.
We're always on the lookout for inspiration and excuses to get creative. So we eagerly anticipate the theme's unveiling, and then we spend September brainstorming ideas.
This year, we started working as soon as the signs proclaiming "Beauty is..." went up at the school. And by we, I mean that Ms. Bumblebee sat down to color and I tried not to complain about the crayons left on the floor, or the scraps of paper strewn across the living room for a week.
Then she said she wanted to take a picture.
Wonderful, I said, and took her to a park.
She frowned and said she meant a picture of the sign at the gas station.
Not just the sign, the hinge that holds the sign.
It makes a letter, she told me, it's awesome.
My thoughts were along the lines of a rusty hinge not being the epitome of beauty. However, out loud I told her that was fine. But, maybe we could just look around the park and see if maybe there was something beautiful there.
You might be inspired. You don't even have to plan it, I told her. Play with the camera settings, lets see if you can do black and white, or that cool color swap thing. Penguin wished out loud that her school was participating.
Bumblebee just rolled her eyes at me. And then she found an "R" hidden in tree roots.
Okay. I want to be encouraging, tree roots are definitely a step up from a rusty hinge. Penguin pointed out a knot hole "o". I mentioned that the gorgeous fountains formed an "i".
She took a picture of a crack in the sidewalk.
And a single, fallen leaf.
That was laying on a litter-strewn ground.
With a piece torn off.
Beauty is?
"We need to go to the gas station," she grumbled.
Shall we say I was a bit disconcerted and more than a bit frustrated?
But this was her project. So I encouraged her to keep snapping pictures. I didn't let her see me shudder when she tried a close up of our trash can. "The theme is 'beauty is'" I reminded her.
"I know," she calmly stated, playing with the focus as she trained the camera on the bricks of our fireplace.
"Um, at least use an uncracked brick," I said unhelpfully. She just shook her head then cocked it to the side, grinned and clicked the button.
I quietly thanked the powers that be for digital cameras and (almost) limitless exposures.
Dutifully, I helped her hook up the camera to the computer and upload (download?) photos. I opened adobe for her. I helped her figure out how to open whichever picture she wanted to for editing. And then I stepped back and tried not to think about the trash can photo.
At any rate, I consoled myself, it's unique.
She carefully edited each photo, playing with tools I didn't know we had. She smudged up backgrounds until I could hardly recognize them. She used funky cutters to trim the photos down and focus on the letter she saw.
Her vision began to manifest.
In the end, she had an alphabet of hidden letters. Including the rusty hinge of the local gas station sign, her friend's leg in flamingo-pose, a variety of rocks and tree branches and bushes. Not to mention that sidewalk crack. All lovely, viewed in the right perspective.
I discovered that beauty isn't confined to the big picture. Beauty is letting go. It's a 7 year old creating her personal vision. Beauty is listening to laughter and plotting and 'Yes!' as she discovers a letter hidden in an unexpected place. Beauty isn't simply found in the things poets write of. It isn't bigger or better. Sometimes its smaller, subtler. (Sometimes, much subtler.)
As Bumblebee said as we filled out the paperwork together, "With your imagination you can see anything, anywhere."
As I look at the images she created from the bits of real life most of us overlook, either intentionally or unintentionally, I also realize that like the old adage says, beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder.
Beauty is everywhere, if you look through a child's eyes.
We're always on the lookout for inspiration and excuses to get creative. So we eagerly anticipate the theme's unveiling, and then we spend September brainstorming ideas.
This year, we started working as soon as the signs proclaiming "Beauty is..." went up at the school. And by we, I mean that Ms. Bumblebee sat down to color and I tried not to complain about the crayons left on the floor, or the scraps of paper strewn across the living room for a week.
Then she said she wanted to take a picture.
Wonderful, I said, and took her to a park.
She frowned and said she meant a picture of the sign at the gas station.
Not just the sign, the hinge that holds the sign.
It makes a letter, she told me, it's awesome.
My thoughts were along the lines of a rusty hinge not being the epitome of beauty. However, out loud I told her that was fine. But, maybe we could just look around the park and see if maybe there was something beautiful there.
You might be inspired. You don't even have to plan it, I told her. Play with the camera settings, lets see if you can do black and white, or that cool color swap thing. Penguin wished out loud that her school was participating.
Bumblebee just rolled her eyes at me. And then she found an "R" hidden in tree roots.
Okay. I want to be encouraging, tree roots are definitely a step up from a rusty hinge. Penguin pointed out a knot hole "o". I mentioned that the gorgeous fountains formed an "i".
She took a picture of a crack in the sidewalk.
And a single, fallen leaf.
That was laying on a litter-strewn ground.
With a piece torn off.
Beauty is?
"We need to go to the gas station," she grumbled.
Shall we say I was a bit disconcerted and more than a bit frustrated?
But this was her project. So I encouraged her to keep snapping pictures. I didn't let her see me shudder when she tried a close up of our trash can. "The theme is 'beauty is'" I reminded her.
"I know," she calmly stated, playing with the focus as she trained the camera on the bricks of our fireplace.
"Um, at least use an uncracked brick," I said unhelpfully. She just shook her head then cocked it to the side, grinned and clicked the button.
I quietly thanked the powers that be for digital cameras and (almost) limitless exposures.
Dutifully, I helped her hook up the camera to the computer and upload (download?) photos. I opened adobe for her. I helped her figure out how to open whichever picture she wanted to for editing. And then I stepped back and tried not to think about the trash can photo.
At any rate, I consoled myself, it's unique.
She carefully edited each photo, playing with tools I didn't know we had. She smudged up backgrounds until I could hardly recognize them. She used funky cutters to trim the photos down and focus on the letter she saw.
Her vision began to manifest.
In the end, she had an alphabet of hidden letters. Including the rusty hinge of the local gas station sign, her friend's leg in flamingo-pose, a variety of rocks and tree branches and bushes. Not to mention that sidewalk crack. All lovely, viewed in the right perspective. I discovered that beauty isn't confined to the big picture. Beauty is letting go. It's a 7 year old creating her personal vision. Beauty is listening to laughter and plotting and 'Yes!' as she discovers a letter hidden in an unexpected place. Beauty isn't simply found in the things poets write of. It isn't bigger or better. Sometimes its smaller, subtler. (Sometimes, much subtler.)
As Bumblebee said as we filled out the paperwork together, "With your imagination you can see anything, anywhere."
As I look at the images she created from the bits of real life most of us overlook, either intentionally or unintentionally, I also realize that like the old adage says, beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder.
Beauty is everywhere, if you look through a child's eyes.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Lessons from corn
Although I'd like to say that corn is pure evil, my sensible side keeps intervening.
It isn't corn that's inherently evil. It's what we're doing with corn, nature and everything else.
To paraphrase St. someone: The love of money is the root of all evil. And hence, the quest for money is at the root of all corn. That's what it all boils down to. Money talks.
Right now, money appears to grow in cornfields across the United States.
I've learned more than I wanted to about our food system. I've discovered that the FDA is a business, much like any other. And it's run by humans.
FAAN may have made a difference for thousands, but with all their knowledge and power, they still have an awful lot to learn. I'm only one of many learning from their mistakes.
Safety nets are often made of red tape.
I've learned that there are things I don't want to know or learn. Food was supposed to be easy. You browse the grocery store, you choose new items. It doesn't bite back. You don't worry about what it's doing to your child's hormones or brain development. That's what the FDA is there for...right? Right? RIGHT???
I've learned that experts have tunnel vision. Not only do they have tunnel vision, but it's rewarded with money. And they want to stay in the dark as desperately as I do.
I've learned that women are slightly more prone to food intolerance...or maybe they just admit it more readily than men do.
And I've learned how easy, and satisfying, it is to live outside the box.
It isn't corn that's inherently evil. It's what we're doing with corn, nature and everything else.
To paraphrase St. someone: The love of money is the root of all evil. And hence, the quest for money is at the root of all corn. That's what it all boils down to. Money talks.
Right now, money appears to grow in cornfields across the United States.
I've learned more than I wanted to about our food system. I've discovered that the FDA is a business, much like any other. And it's run by humans.
FAAN may have made a difference for thousands, but with all their knowledge and power, they still have an awful lot to learn. I'm only one of many learning from their mistakes.
Safety nets are often made of red tape.
I've learned that there are things I don't want to know or learn. Food was supposed to be easy. You browse the grocery store, you choose new items. It doesn't bite back. You don't worry about what it's doing to your child's hormones or brain development. That's what the FDA is there for...right? Right? RIGHT???
I've learned that experts have tunnel vision. Not only do they have tunnel vision, but it's rewarded with money. And they want to stay in the dark as desperately as I do.
I've learned that women are slightly more prone to food intolerance...or maybe they just admit it more readily than men do.
And I've learned how easy, and satisfying, it is to live outside the box.
Friday, October 09, 2009
As Halloween approaches, a reason to be Thankful...
Halloween is always tough around here.
For oldest, no dye, no dairy, no gluten. Not much sense in trick or treating!
For youngest, it used to be no nuts, but this year it's no dye (and she passed the peanut challenge! Yay! Although she claims they still smell disgusting.)
Really, there aren't all THAT many options out there.
Of course, the kids made do. And adore our yearly ritual of sorting out the candy into safe piles, and then into piles by type. Then we trade in the junk for safe candy and cheap part favors. This year, they even want to use it in experiments. (As in, how long does it take a skittle to dissolve? An M&M? Jolly Rancher?)
We even have a yearly outing to a local zoo, where various local businesses set up stations and give out non-candy items. (Flower seeds are always a big hit, and they actively seek out the Apple Juice booth. No candy, please, just the juice!)
Anyways, despite the fun it's still hard to go to school and see kids gorge on multicolored confections on the beloved sugar fest we call "Halloween". We know in our heads that junk food tastes good to your tongue, and real food tastes good to your tummy, but in practice, it's hard to pass up sprinkles and gummies and frosting. (even if you have your own delicious treat waiting.)
My oldest even watched a woman bribing her son with skittles in the library, "Just be good. Here, what color? Any color. Good boy. Now be good. Fine, another color. Any color. Come on, yummy. Choose a color. Now be good, stay with...No, come back, fine. Look. Candy! Yummy!" And thanked me for not being that kind of mom. (Thankfully, not many of us are. The kid wasn't even misbehaving, just looking at the books on the shelf.)
But when 'everyone else' is eating something that looks good, smells good, and you know tastes good; and they keep tempting you to just take a tiny taste; it's hard to say no. And it's hard to watch your kids struggle with that self control. Self control that many adults have failed to master. (Just ask anyone whose ever tried a fad diet how often they cheated.)
However, there is a reason to be grateful for forced moderation. British studies show that kids who eat an excess of sugar in their formative years actually may be at increased risk for arrest due to violent crimes. Of course, the next question is why those kids ate so many sweets to begin with. Was it a parenting issue? A chemical imbalance? Were the sweets a cause or a symptom? And was it sugar itself or the rise in the use of petrochemicals in sweets over the past 20 or 30 years? (This is purely my speculation, but clearly an avenue investigators will have to explore further, as you can see in the article.)
At any rate, maybe it will be easier to ignore those naysayers who 'tsk, tsk" and tell me that my poor kids are so terribly deprived. Not only are they missing out on sugar highs, migraines, stomach aches and mood swings, their risk of acquiring a violent criminal record is dropping.
Maybe we should celebrate.
Candy, anyone?
For oldest, no dye, no dairy, no gluten. Not much sense in trick or treating!
For youngest, it used to be no nuts, but this year it's no dye (and she passed the peanut challenge! Yay! Although she claims they still smell disgusting.)
Really, there aren't all THAT many options out there.
Of course, the kids made do. And adore our yearly ritual of sorting out the candy into safe piles, and then into piles by type. Then we trade in the junk for safe candy and cheap part favors. This year, they even want to use it in experiments. (As in, how long does it take a skittle to dissolve? An M&M? Jolly Rancher?)
We even have a yearly outing to a local zoo, where various local businesses set up stations and give out non-candy items. (Flower seeds are always a big hit, and they actively seek out the Apple Juice booth. No candy, please, just the juice!)
Anyways, despite the fun it's still hard to go to school and see kids gorge on multicolored confections on the beloved sugar fest we call "Halloween". We know in our heads that junk food tastes good to your tongue, and real food tastes good to your tummy, but in practice, it's hard to pass up sprinkles and gummies and frosting. (even if you have your own delicious treat waiting.)
My oldest even watched a woman bribing her son with skittles in the library, "Just be good. Here, what color? Any color. Good boy. Now be good. Fine, another color. Any color. Come on, yummy. Choose a color. Now be good, stay with...No, come back, fine. Look. Candy! Yummy!" And thanked me for not being that kind of mom. (Thankfully, not many of us are. The kid wasn't even misbehaving, just looking at the books on the shelf.)
But when 'everyone else' is eating something that looks good, smells good, and you know tastes good; and they keep tempting you to just take a tiny taste; it's hard to say no. And it's hard to watch your kids struggle with that self control. Self control that many adults have failed to master. (Just ask anyone whose ever tried a fad diet how often they cheated.)
However, there is a reason to be grateful for forced moderation. British studies show that kids who eat an excess of sugar in their formative years actually may be at increased risk for arrest due to violent crimes. Of course, the next question is why those kids ate so many sweets to begin with. Was it a parenting issue? A chemical imbalance? Were the sweets a cause or a symptom? And was it sugar itself or the rise in the use of petrochemicals in sweets over the past 20 or 30 years? (This is purely my speculation, but clearly an avenue investigators will have to explore further, as you can see in the article.)
At any rate, maybe it will be easier to ignore those naysayers who 'tsk, tsk" and tell me that my poor kids are so terribly deprived. Not only are they missing out on sugar highs, migraines, stomach aches and mood swings, their risk of acquiring a violent criminal record is dropping.
Maybe we should celebrate.
Candy, anyone?
Thursday, October 08, 2009
Sick (?) Kids
The day started out like any other. The kids grumbling after staying up late reading and giggling. Mom and Dad grumbling because we stayed up late saying "Okay, girls, get some rest."
Penguin has missed a few days of school, and was feeling better. The plan was to push her to just give it a try. She hasn't been running a fever, which is the gold standard, you're-a-bad-parent-who-is-spreading-pandemic-flu criteria for staying home.
"I know, I can make it, I think I'm okay. I just don't really feel good."
"Fine. We can take your temperature,"
"That sounds fair,"
"...and then you are getting up from under that blanket, brushing your hair and putting socks on. Got it? Good."
3 minutes later, I'm staring a silver line that hits 102*
"Really? Really? But I don't feel that...but I'm so cold!"
Right. Cold. Fever. Go back to bed, kiddo. And Bumblebee, get UP! You're going to be late!
"Why is my sister laying down? Isn't she going to be late?"
She's running a fever. Now for the last time, get up! Get dressed! No more dilly dallying, how many times did I have to come in and tell you to settle down and sleep last night?
"But, she doesn't have to go to school? That's not fair! She always stays home. My head hurts, my throat hurts a lot and I still have to go to school this week. It's not fair!"
I hesitate, blanket still in my hand. She did mention a headache yesterday. And her eyes are a little glassy.
"Um, wait a second. Your head still hurts? Your throat hurts?"
She's getting dressed, now.
"Yes, and you still make me go to school! You don't love me, you only love Penguin!"
I have a sinking feeling something isn't quite right here.
"Should we take your temperature?"
Pause.
"Okay." Shrug. "But it won't be a fever and you're still going to make me go to school and it isn't fair!" She flops resignedly on the bed, dramatically throwing an arm over her eyes as she waits for the thermometer to do it's stuff.
A few minutes later I'm wondering if there's something wrong with our thermometer. It reads 100*
"Really? Really, really? I have a fever?" She takes a moment to process. Then breaks out in a huge grin.
And sits straight up in bed. "No school!" she squeals.
"Hey, hon," dh says from the doorway, as he tries to hide a smile, "I think I'm going to go ahead and just head in to work now. Um, have fun." Thanks.
He better not be working too late tonight.
2 hours later, both kids are up, and I hear the violin being practiced for the first time in...oh, ages. A year, I think. It probably needs to be tuned. And I don't even want to know what they did to all the stuff that used to be piled on top of it. (Wasn't it at the back of the hall closet?) But for now, I'm going back to bed. I've got a bit of a cold.
I just hope the house is still here when I wake up.
Penguin has missed a few days of school, and was feeling better. The plan was to push her to just give it a try. She hasn't been running a fever, which is the gold standard, you're-a-bad-parent-who-is-spreading-pandemic-flu criteria for staying home.
"I know, I can make it, I think I'm okay. I just don't really feel good."
"Fine. We can take your temperature,"
"That sounds fair,"
"...and then you are getting up from under that blanket, brushing your hair and putting socks on. Got it? Good."
3 minutes later, I'm staring a silver line that hits 102*
"Really? Really? But I don't feel that...but I'm so cold!"
Right. Cold. Fever. Go back to bed, kiddo. And Bumblebee, get UP! You're going to be late!
"Why is my sister laying down? Isn't she going to be late?"
She's running a fever. Now for the last time, get up! Get dressed! No more dilly dallying, how many times did I have to come in and tell you to settle down and sleep last night?
"But, she doesn't have to go to school? That's not fair! She always stays home. My head hurts, my throat hurts a lot and I still have to go to school this week. It's not fair!"
I hesitate, blanket still in my hand. She did mention a headache yesterday. And her eyes are a little glassy.
"Um, wait a second. Your head still hurts? Your throat hurts?"
She's getting dressed, now.
"Yes, and you still make me go to school! You don't love me, you only love Penguin!"
I have a sinking feeling something isn't quite right here.
"Should we take your temperature?"
Pause.
"Okay." Shrug. "But it won't be a fever and you're still going to make me go to school and it isn't fair!" She flops resignedly on the bed, dramatically throwing an arm over her eyes as she waits for the thermometer to do it's stuff.
A few minutes later I'm wondering if there's something wrong with our thermometer. It reads 100*
"Really? Really, really? I have a fever?" She takes a moment to process. Then breaks out in a huge grin.
And sits straight up in bed. "No school!" she squeals.
"Hey, hon," dh says from the doorway, as he tries to hide a smile, "I think I'm going to go ahead and just head in to work now. Um, have fun." Thanks.
He better not be working too late tonight.
2 hours later, both kids are up, and I hear the violin being practiced for the first time in...oh, ages. A year, I think. It probably needs to be tuned. And I don't even want to know what they did to all the stuff that used to be piled on top of it. (Wasn't it at the back of the hall closet?) But for now, I'm going back to bed. I've got a bit of a cold.
I just hope the house is still here when I wake up.
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
Pot of Gold...the Leprechauns can Keep it!
Here's a pot of gold that I'd rather skip.
http://www.ontariocorn.org/classroom/potgold.html
But it does give a good picture of what we're up against. Those of us who are uncorny by choice, or necessity. Can it really be safe to depend on one crop for such a diversity of things? Sure, it's great that we *can* use it for a variety of options. But really, there needs to be a variety of sources. And they need to be disclosed.
No wonder the dietician took a look at my list, and told me to give up. Some days I'm tempted, but I have 2 amazing kids to raise. And I just can't do it from bed, nor do I want anyone else doing it. There's already too much that I forgo for the sake of the damage corn and gluten have wreaked on my body.
"Life is Like a Box of Chocolates". Full of corn.
Luckily, I'm selective with my chocolates. :P
http://www.ontariocorn.org/classroom/potgold.html
But it does give a good picture of what we're up against. Those of us who are uncorny by choice, or necessity. Can it really be safe to depend on one crop for such a diversity of things? Sure, it's great that we *can* use it for a variety of options. But really, there needs to be a variety of sources. And they need to be disclosed.
No wonder the dietician took a look at my list, and told me to give up. Some days I'm tempted, but I have 2 amazing kids to raise. And I just can't do it from bed, nor do I want anyone else doing it. There's already too much that I forgo for the sake of the damage corn and gluten have wreaked on my body.
"Life is Like a Box of Chocolates". Full of corn.
Luckily, I'm selective with my chocolates. :P
Saturday, October 03, 2009
Overheard from the yard:
"I'm tired of playing at your house. We can only play outside. Your mom spies on us. The snails crawl on us. The sun shines on us. I want to play at my house. Where we can go anywhere and do anything we want. And nobody will even care."
Any guesses as to why they're in MY yard?
"I'm tired of playing at your house. We can only play outside. Your mom spies on us. The snails crawl on us. The sun shines on us. I want to play at my house. Where we can go anywhere and do anything we want. And nobody will even care."
Any guesses as to why they're in MY yard?
Penguin: "Mommy, where's the Taj Mahal?"
Me "Um, India, I'm pretty sure."
Penguin: "Yeah, that sounds right. It's where they bury people, right?"
Me "I thought it was more of a Cathedral."
Penguin: "Whatever. It's one of those grave thingys."
Apparently she was trying to describe the Sistene Chapel to her sister. It's like the Taj Mahal. You know, a Grave Thingy.
We don't get out enough.
Me "Um, India, I'm pretty sure."
Penguin: "Yeah, that sounds right. It's where they bury people, right?"
Me "I thought it was more of a Cathedral."
Penguin: "Whatever. It's one of those grave thingys."
Apparently she was trying to describe the Sistene Chapel to her sister. It's like the Taj Mahal. You know, a Grave Thingy.
We don't get out enough.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Go Judge White!
Yeah!
This article came through my inbox. And I must say, I'm proud of my native San Francisco Bay Area heritage today, as apparently it is in the SF BA that common sense regarding genetically modified seeds seems to be actually happening.
I don't want GM sugar beets. Or alfalfa.
And I don't think anyone else does either. Remember that beets can be used to make white sugar. Which, although my husband is currently avoiding, is a very tasty part of our otherwise limited diet.
Genetic modifications have been linked to the rise in corn allergies in the 80's. (Think Starlink scandal.) It hasn't been mainstream long enough for true long term affects to be documented and studied. However, we do know that once it's out there, it's impossible to withdraw due to drift and pollination issues. Now that GM plants have been introduced to the world, they are infiltrating the rest of the crops.
It's like a bad science fiction movie. Except we're actually living the intro.
This article came through my inbox. And I must say, I'm proud of my native San Francisco Bay Area heritage today, as apparently it is in the SF BA that common sense regarding genetically modified seeds seems to be actually happening.
I don't want GM sugar beets. Or alfalfa.
And I don't think anyone else does either. Remember that beets can be used to make white sugar. Which, although my husband is currently avoiding, is a very tasty part of our otherwise limited diet.
Genetic modifications have been linked to the rise in corn allergies in the 80's. (Think Starlink scandal.) It hasn't been mainstream long enough for true long term affects to be documented and studied. However, we do know that once it's out there, it's impossible to withdraw due to drift and pollination issues. Now that GM plants have been introduced to the world, they are infiltrating the rest of the crops.
It's like a bad science fiction movie. Except we're actually living the intro.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Dishwashing
It's something you take for granted.
You know, especially when you have a working dishwasher. Sure, it's a pain. But, you rinse off the worst of those dishes, fill up the little cache, and close the door. Push the econo setting, and you're good to go. By the time you're done with the days errands, or have a good night's sleep, the dishwasher will be full of clean shiny dishes.
And all of them will be safe for you to eat off of.
They won't make you sick.
Unless you have a corn allergy.
If you do have a corn allergy (or other unique situation), that steam that erupts from a freshly finished dishwasher when the door is opened is misleading. Sure, the dishes are sterile. But a fine residue remains. This residue leaves the dishes spotless, without little water marks. Makes them easier to clean later. Is perfectly harmless to humans.
Unless, of course, you happen to have the aforementioned corn allergy.
I had found a safe dishwashing detergent. I'd argued my way through a few manufacturers, with that whole "Well, you aren't supposed to eat it..." discussion, and settled on Kirkland signature powdered dishwasher detergent. The Costco guy was very helpful. Very kind. He called and checked on everything, taking a list of suspect ingredients.
And then, 2 years later, they simply stopped making it. And the new "Environmentally friendly" version lists citric acid as a key ingredient. Citric Acid, as many of you know, is notoriously connected to corn allergy reactions (regardless of whether or not any protein remains.)
I don't know about you, but eating is enough of a gamble for me. I don't need to be afraid of the soap I stick in my dishwasher, too.
So I'm off to seek a safer alternative. Especially since we're now completely out of the "old" detergent. And the friendly Costco guy has yet to respond to me emails about the new stuff...
Hey, maybe it is "Just Stress". Stressing about coming in contact with surprise corn (and the subsequent surprise 6 week recovery period) certainly doesn't help.
You know, especially when you have a working dishwasher. Sure, it's a pain. But, you rinse off the worst of those dishes, fill up the little cache, and close the door. Push the econo setting, and you're good to go. By the time you're done with the days errands, or have a good night's sleep, the dishwasher will be full of clean shiny dishes.
And all of them will be safe for you to eat off of.
They won't make you sick.
Unless you have a corn allergy.
If you do have a corn allergy (or other unique situation), that steam that erupts from a freshly finished dishwasher when the door is opened is misleading. Sure, the dishes are sterile. But a fine residue remains. This residue leaves the dishes spotless, without little water marks. Makes them easier to clean later. Is perfectly harmless to humans.
Unless, of course, you happen to have the aforementioned corn allergy.
I had found a safe dishwashing detergent. I'd argued my way through a few manufacturers, with that whole "Well, you aren't supposed to eat it..." discussion, and settled on Kirkland signature powdered dishwasher detergent. The Costco guy was very helpful. Very kind. He called and checked on everything, taking a list of suspect ingredients.
And then, 2 years later, they simply stopped making it. And the new "Environmentally friendly" version lists citric acid as a key ingredient. Citric Acid, as many of you know, is notoriously connected to corn allergy reactions (regardless of whether or not any protein remains.)
I don't know about you, but eating is enough of a gamble for me. I don't need to be afraid of the soap I stick in my dishwasher, too.
So I'm off to seek a safer alternative. Especially since we're now completely out of the "old" detergent. And the friendly Costco guy has yet to respond to me emails about the new stuff...
Hey, maybe it is "Just Stress". Stressing about coming in contact with surprise corn (and the subsequent surprise 6 week recovery period) certainly doesn't help.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Life with a corn allergy has opened my eyes to a lot of things in this world. I knew that the food supply was less than perfect, and that the Standard American Diet really was a bit SAD. However, I thought it was "normal". There were government agencies in place to take care of us.
In the end, it really couldn't be that bad.
But now...Well, now I wonder. There's corn in this, and that, and yes, even that. Eggs, still in the shell, aren't even safe if they've been washed in a corny solution or if the chickens they came from were fed xanthophylls. And yet the FAAN still says that they are not advocating for the corn allergic community because the FDA does not consider corn a true allergen.
My daughter's migraines have introduced me to the world of petrochemicals...an area I'd like to keep my head in the sand regarding. The doctors caution that there aren't a lot of studies to back up what they, and I, are seeing. But there's no doubt that blue dye makes my daughter pale, pained and nausous. And there's no doubt in my mind that artificial coloring may play a part in the increased 4 A epidemics.
Anyways, while I've always known there were problems in the world, now I'm forced to do something about them. And I thought I'd make a list for those who have it in the back of their mind that they'd like to do the ubiquitous something, they just feel too overwhelmed to know where to start.
Of course the most important step is to simply make a choice. Where are your values? What do you want to change? The second is to look at where your money goes.
The fact of the matter is, if you agree that there is too much corn in our food supply, the only way that it's going to change is if you stop buying corn. You don't have to do it like I do. You don't have to be corn Kosher. But you can choose the bread without high fructose corn syrup, or corn starch, or cornmeal.
Avoiding petrochemicals is even easier, and you won't run into a corn growers association's PSA trying to convince you that petrochemicals are not only safe, but actually nourishing. Most people will be on your side. They either find food colorings to be harmless but probably not good, or they think they're a necessary evil. Something you can't do anything about.
But we can do something. In Europe, parents refused to buy food for their kids that had been colored with questionable additives. And guess what? Companies like Walmart and Kraft did something. They took the additives out of the food.
If they can do it for European kids, they can do it for Americans.
If they can do it for petrochemicals, they can do it for corn. (It might take a little bit more work, and a bit more economic adjustment, though. There's a dietary revolution coming, whether we like it or not. For our grandparents, the revolution took society into the world of "clean" processed, industrialized canned food. For our children or grandchildren, it will be a return to gardening and local farming. There's just no way that our world can survive if we continue this lopsided industrial farming approach.)
So, choose the better brand even when it costs a small amount more. And write to your favorite brands to tell them why you did or didn't choose to buy them. They will probably respond with a form letter and coupons (Which is a good enough reason to write, sometimes) but if they get enough feedback asking for change, they'll change.
There you go. Two semi painless steps. Buy what you, the consumer, want to have available. Merchandisers follow Darwin's laws...Use it (buy it) or lose it.
What do I think is the most important goal?
Full disclosure. I want to know what's in everything I put in my body, from farm fresh produce to the excipients used in blood pressure medication. Chemical breakdowns are nice, but they don't tell me sources and they don't give the American people the info they need to make informed choices. In a world where we can't logistically each farm our own land, slaughter our own meats, and grind our own grain, I don't think knowing whats in the products we buy is too much to ask.
In the end, it really couldn't be that bad.
But now...Well, now I wonder. There's corn in this, and that, and yes, even that. Eggs, still in the shell, aren't even safe if they've been washed in a corny solution or if the chickens they came from were fed xanthophylls. And yet the FAAN still says that they are not advocating for the corn allergic community because the FDA does not consider corn a true allergen.
My daughter's migraines have introduced me to the world of petrochemicals...an area I'd like to keep my head in the sand regarding. The doctors caution that there aren't a lot of studies to back up what they, and I, are seeing. But there's no doubt that blue dye makes my daughter pale, pained and nausous. And there's no doubt in my mind that artificial coloring may play a part in the increased 4 A epidemics.
Anyways, while I've always known there were problems in the world, now I'm forced to do something about them. And I thought I'd make a list for those who have it in the back of their mind that they'd like to do the ubiquitous something, they just feel too overwhelmed to know where to start.
Of course the most important step is to simply make a choice. Where are your values? What do you want to change? The second is to look at where your money goes.
The fact of the matter is, if you agree that there is too much corn in our food supply, the only way that it's going to change is if you stop buying corn. You don't have to do it like I do. You don't have to be corn Kosher. But you can choose the bread without high fructose corn syrup, or corn starch, or cornmeal.
Avoiding petrochemicals is even easier, and you won't run into a corn growers association's PSA trying to convince you that petrochemicals are not only safe, but actually nourishing. Most people will be on your side. They either find food colorings to be harmless but probably not good, or they think they're a necessary evil. Something you can't do anything about.
But we can do something. In Europe, parents refused to buy food for their kids that had been colored with questionable additives. And guess what? Companies like Walmart and Kraft did something. They took the additives out of the food.
If they can do it for European kids, they can do it for Americans.
If they can do it for petrochemicals, they can do it for corn. (It might take a little bit more work, and a bit more economic adjustment, though. There's a dietary revolution coming, whether we like it or not. For our grandparents, the revolution took society into the world of "clean" processed, industrialized canned food. For our children or grandchildren, it will be a return to gardening and local farming. There's just no way that our world can survive if we continue this lopsided industrial farming approach.)
So, choose the better brand even when it costs a small amount more. And write to your favorite brands to tell them why you did or didn't choose to buy them. They will probably respond with a form letter and coupons (Which is a good enough reason to write, sometimes) but if they get enough feedback asking for change, they'll change.
There you go. Two semi painless steps. Buy what you, the consumer, want to have available. Merchandisers follow Darwin's laws...Use it (buy it) or lose it.
What do I think is the most important goal?
Full disclosure. I want to know what's in everything I put in my body, from farm fresh produce to the excipients used in blood pressure medication. Chemical breakdowns are nice, but they don't tell me sources and they don't give the American people the info they need to make informed choices. In a world where we can't logistically each farm our own land, slaughter our own meats, and grind our own grain, I don't think knowing whats in the products we buy is too much to ask.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)