First post

Okay, I give in. I'll try out this whole blogging thing and see how it goes. It's not as though I have copious amounts of free time to write, but what the heck, right?

Halloween is looming. A candy-filled, costume-clad delight. The kids cannot wait for trick-or-treat, a night I both look forward to and dread. I love the costumes, going from door to door, exclaiming over the kids in the neighborhood, and that naughty feeling you get from being outside wandering around at night. What I don't enjoy is the constant worry of possible allergic reactions. Reese's peanut butter cups, Reese's Pieces, Snickers, Almond Joy, Peanut M&Ms... Nuts, nuts, everywhere, but so little candy my children can have. Don't get me wrong, one of the pros of food allergies is that they just straight out CAN'T eat much of the loot they'll gather. (That means more for me after they're in bed.) So while that takes childhood obesity and rotten teeth out of the picture, it also mandates an on-hand Epi-Pen Jr - just in case.

So much in society revolves around food - birthday parties, holidays, going out to eat, traveling.... All involve the presence of food and/or needing to eat. This means that at every turn in life, my children are reminded of what they can't have, of how they are different than most other kids. With allergies to peanuts, tree nuts, milk, eggs, wheat, sesame, and others, they are denied the freedom of grabbing a cupcake at a birthday party or a quick snack at a friend's house or getting something from the ice cream truck. They stand aside, watching the other kids putting things in their mouth with abandon, without a worry, without the threat of a life-or-death situation. This separates them from their friends. It is a constant reminder that they are different. And it is already bringing the question - "why?" A question that I can't answer for them.

This past May, Chris and I went on an Alaskan cruise. A cruise that I earned as a Supervisor with Usborne Books. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity - I should have been on cloud nine! Instead, every time someone asked me "Are you taking the kids?" it made me sad. Can you image taking two children with food allergies into the middle of the ocean and trying to feed them? Cruise ships don't exactly cater to special orders. Mental images of Dominic gasping for breath and turning blue-purple as the ship radios the coast for a helicopter that may arrive too late.... So no, we didn't take the kids.

Next April, we'll be going to Rome. My soon-to-be-earned trip is again a sense of pride and excitement for me, but also bittersweet. I imagine the incredible experience it would be for Dominic and Francesca- a different country, ancient ruins, another language, people who can pronounce my daughter's name, an airplane ride, new foods to try... and then reality hits. Oh yeah. Food. That's kind of important. So how do you say in Italian that my son could die if any butter sneaks into his food? Looks like Chris and I will be alone again. Don't get me wrong, a romantic week in Rome with my husband is definitely not a bad thing! It's just the lack of choice in the matter that makes my heart ache.

As the kids get older, I hope they will be able to experience more, to do more, and to take care of themselves along the way. Until then, I continue to hope and pray that perhaps they will someday outgrow these allergies, these limitation, these unfortunate circumstance that limit their experiences and put them on the outside of their circles of friends. In the case of trick-or-treat, well, I guess we'll go with the trick.