It gets better. I know that. I’ve been told that. I’ve read that. But right now, we’re trying to solve a riddle with no answer at the back of a puzzle book. Over the past month, the Allergy Babe has had an increase in her eczema, worse diapers, and is more difficult at meals. She now refuses to eat foods that she would a month ago, or chews a mouthful and then spit it out.
Today we saw her pediatrician, who recommended we cut out soy for 7-10 days, and see if her symptoms improve. If we have to add soy to the list of allergens, that means extreme limits on any baked goods and other menu options. Soy milk is a milk substitute, and margarine, our butter substitute, is also usually soy based. I’ll have to invest in palm fruit oil to bake with, which is about double or triple the price of butter. In addition, the greatest source of calcium in her diet comes from soy milk. This means even more research and creativity in the kitchen.
Up until now, I’ve tried to remain positive and treat this as an adventure. However, if the list continues to grow, we worry that she will not outgrow her allergies. Despite this worry, some reports indicate that up until the age of two there may be an increase of allergies before they start to lessen. So, while it is very frustrating to be coping with a picky eater with major food limitations due to allergies, we just have to keep pushing past this. Hopefully the latest riddle gets solved, fast, and we can continue to move forward.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Restaurant dining
We attempted something that brings fear to us, but is normal to most parents. We took the Allergy Babe into a restaurant and gave her food provided by the restaurant.
While we could completely isolate ourselves from outside food experiences, we were traveling and attending a weekend filled with family events. And most of the time, family=food. This particular time it involved a mostly uncontrolled environment for us.
About one week prior to the dinner, I spoke to the restaurant manager who indicated that they had served people with food allergies before and should be able to handle it. They had special sanitary wipes to take care of the highchair and table area, and could prepare her food separately. When we arrived at the restaurant, I immediately sought the manager out and we discussed everything again. She made sure to talk to our waitress in our presence, and she also talked to the cooking staff.
How did the evening go? Well, it didn’t help that the Allergy Babe didn’t get a nap earlier in the day. She also wanted to run around the restaurant. And that would be the source of our stress that evening. I actually wasn’t overly concerned about feeding her dinner, which was a plain chicken breast cooked in vegetable oil in its own pan, plain baked potato, and steamed broccoli. The stress was that she would grab something from the table, touch an area we hadn’t cleaned with sanitary wipes, or pick up something from the floor. In addition, our extended family was warned not to come in contact with her if they ate something unless they washed up after, and we couldn’t be entirely sure everyone got that message or would remember it later.
So, after a few walks outside with Daddy, constantly asking for “Mommy, Mommy” and “up, up, up”, we tried dinner with her in Mommy’s lap. She had a lick of chicken, and about a teaspoon of potato. At which point, “down, down, down” was requested and denied, with resulting cries. Alas, it was not meant to be and we soon left. Thankfully, though, the food wasn’t the problem.
While we could completely isolate ourselves from outside food experiences, we were traveling and attending a weekend filled with family events. And most of the time, family=food. This particular time it involved a mostly uncontrolled environment for us.
About one week prior to the dinner, I spoke to the restaurant manager who indicated that they had served people with food allergies before and should be able to handle it. They had special sanitary wipes to take care of the highchair and table area, and could prepare her food separately. When we arrived at the restaurant, I immediately sought the manager out and we discussed everything again. She made sure to talk to our waitress in our presence, and she also talked to the cooking staff.
How did the evening go? Well, it didn’t help that the Allergy Babe didn’t get a nap earlier in the day. She also wanted to run around the restaurant. And that would be the source of our stress that evening. I actually wasn’t overly concerned about feeding her dinner, which was a plain chicken breast cooked in vegetable oil in its own pan, plain baked potato, and steamed broccoli. The stress was that she would grab something from the table, touch an area we hadn’t cleaned with sanitary wipes, or pick up something from the floor. In addition, our extended family was warned not to come in contact with her if they ate something unless they washed up after, and we couldn’t be entirely sure everyone got that message or would remember it later.
So, after a few walks outside with Daddy, constantly asking for “Mommy, Mommy” and “up, up, up”, we tried dinner with her in Mommy’s lap. She had a lick of chicken, and about a teaspoon of potato. At which point, “down, down, down” was requested and denied, with resulting cries. Alas, it was not meant to be and we soon left. Thankfully, though, the food wasn’t the problem.
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