No, My Kids Really Can’t Have That

home insemination Kit

“We have something else here,” the lady at the booth chimed cheerfully. I glanced down and spotted it: a little glass bowl brimming with Hershey’s miniatures. My heart sank a bit.

“No, I saw it,” I replied. “My kids can’t have any.” They stood behind me in a neat line, from the littlest to the biggest, fully aware that the answer was a resounding no.

“Oh no! Why not?” she inquired, as if expecting an entertaining explanation. Perhaps she thought I was just a strict mom refusing to indulge my poor children.

“They have a milk intolerance,” I explained.

“Oh dear! Aren’t they good for not reaching for it? We don’t want anyone ending up in the ER!” That’s not quite how intolerances work, but I appreciated her concern. After all, what kind of parent says no to candy?

I do. I say no, and no, and no again — one for each child, because here’s how a single Krackle bar would unfold: for about six hours, they’d seem perfectly fine. Then, my oldest would morph into a screeching tornado of chaos. Not talking, mind you — screaming. “I hate you, Mama!” would echo through the house as he lobbed something at his brother’s head, probably a rock.

My middle child would dissolve into tantrums. No, he wouldn’t eat that PB&J. No, he wouldn’t buckle into his seat. No, he wouldn’t stop kicking the dog or tormenting his siblings. And the youngest? He would just sob. And sob. And sob.

The same story plays out with gluten and food dyes. It took ages to pinpoint their issues, particularly the milk intolerance, which was the most obvious, manifesting as “excessive gassiness and fussiness” among other delightful symptoms, as noted by Reflux Rebels.

They’ve outgrown many of those symptoms, but the fussiness and irritability remain. They also deal with non-celiac gluten sensitivity, experiencing symptoms similar to celiac disease, including “foggy mind” and ADHD-like behavior, according to the Celiac Disease Foundation.

The connection between food dyes and poor behavior, especially in kids with ADHD, has raised concerns in recent years, with studies suggesting a possible link.

An accidental exposure to milk, gluten, or dye can derail an entire weekend. My husband and I end up sprawled on the bed, me lamenting that our kids have turned into little monsters and him reassuring me it’s just the milk. We can often trace the chaos back to a specific source — who knew that German sausage contained milk?

I’ve had to become a tad overbearing. I ask about everything. Do those veggies have butter? Is there milk in your scrambled eggs? Does my kid’s meal have any dairy or wheat? Are you sure this gluten-free bun is safe?

I’m always on high alert. If I didn’t make it, I have to double-check, which sometimes annoys my husband, especially when I ask about milk in scrambled eggs at a restaurant that never uses milk. But I have to be cautious; I’ve seen recipes change mid-week, and we’ve faced the consequences.

These dietary restrictions mean my kids miss out on many typical childhood delights. They’ve never tasted a Krackle bar or a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. They can’t munch on M&M’s or gulp down most sodas (we avoid all food dyes just to be safe). Every burger and hotdog comes sans bun, and Halloween? It’s a total drag. Every single candy contains either milk, gluten, or dye.

So, when they can have something, they devour it — often. They love dark, rich chocolate, the kind most kids turn their noses up at. They adore Trader Joe’s meringues and coconut macaroons. I stash safe candies and swap them for the mainstream options: hippie gummy worms for regular gummies, fresh strawberries for Nerds. I even bake safe cakes for every birthday party, so my kids have their own treats while the other kids dive into the real deal. It’s a hassle, but it’s worth it.

Yes, it’s unfortunate, as many people love to point out. And no, they can’t just have “a taste.” My mom thought I was overreacting until she witnessed Blaise’s reaction to butter. That was a wake-up call for her. Others tend to argue with me, thinking because I say “intolerant” instead of “allergic,” it’s up for debate. It’s not; unless you want to deal with my kids for the next two days, keep your orange soda to yourself.

When we first removed gluten from Blaise’s diet due to his behavior issues, we quietly informed our regular waitress not to mention it. At the end of the meal, she remarked that if this was how he behaved off gluten, she’d never let him have it again. I was grateful that someone else recognized the difference and confirmed I wasn’t losing my mind.

Fortunately, there are substitutes available for most foods — breads, waffles, sodas, and candies. Trader Joe’s even offers gluten- and dairy-free Oreos and soy ice cream. All things considered, my kids don’t miss out too much.

But they can’t have a lot of mainstream foods, so please don’t offer them. And don’t pressure me to let them try it. Yes, a taste can hurt. And no, I’m not being overprotective. I just know what’s best for my kids. I couldn’t survive the aftermath if I didn’t.

If you want more insights, check out this other post on home insemination kits. It’s a great resource for anyone looking into similar topics.

In summary, navigating dietary restrictions can be a tough journey for parents. While it can feel isolating to deny your kids certain treats, understanding their intolerances and finding safe alternatives is crucial. It’s about ensuring a happy, healthy childhood, even if it means missing out on some mainstream experiences.