Nearly two months into Gage's rotation diet, the symptoms continue to grow, worsen, and rear their ugly heads. I've had reservations all summer feeding him particular foods--knowing that I was feeding him things for which he tested positive; however, the list is so long that we have no choice. The momma lion in me knows that when his behavior norms do an about-face, there are bigger issues brewing under the surface that cannot be shrugged off as 'just acting like a typical 3-year old.'
I've crammed my brain back into the studies of allergies and rotation diet, all in the grand scheme of things so that we may also avoid any eosiniphilic esophagitis issues, the mother beast of all Gage's health woes. Thus, I must accept and embrace that we, the Cables, will be that weird family: the one whose kid packs fruit for a birthday party, who asks one million questions to the server at any given restaurant, the one who other moms will talk about--call weird, obnoxious, and annoying... and the one that friends and family will hate to invite over unless I do all the cooking for Gage.
I'm pouting with the rain today and will roar with the sun tomorrow because at least in the world that matters, our son will be healthy, will be happy, and will have the best of what we can offer him. I might need some tutorials from Emeril, himself, and will need to actually figure out how to even find things like kamut, spelt, and other odd grains (let alone how to cook with them). But, this is the way we roll. And every day we all get out of bed again and roll--weird or not.
No comments:
Post a Comment