12 posts tagged “parenting”

(or, how M never ceases to amaze me)

Tuesday was a gorgeous day and evening, and we'd planned to grill burgers and sweet potato fries.  There was a bit of prep involved, though (I had to make the burger patties and Rae was cutting the sweet potatoes and mixing in the spices) and M, bless her heart, was waiting somewhat patiently in the kitchen for one of us to be finished so we could go outside and play with her (she's been riding her bike and wanting to shoot hoops down at a neighbor's house).  While waiting (and asking, perhaps not quite as often as she could have, when we'd be finished so we could go outside) she got the urge for a snack.  She asked once for a piece of chocolate (we still have chocolate from V-day) and when I said not before dinner she asked for an apple, to which I of course agreed.  When she opened the fridge to get one, she saw a tupperware of sliced red bell peppers that I had left over from something last week (omelets?) and asked if she could have those instead.

Now, I know she likes red bell peppers.  It's one of her favorite things to snack on when we make homemade pizzas.  We know this because we try just about everything with her (like red and yellow onions, garlic, sage sausage and fresh shredded mozzarella when we make pizzas) because she's curious and we want her to know what stuff tastes like before she poo-poos it.  By doing this she's discovered that she really likes raw, fresh cut red bell peppers.

Back to Tuesday.  She changes her mind, asks about the peppers, to which I say, in a rather shocked fashion, Sure, sweetie, if you'd like.  She grabs them, sits right on the floor, opens up the tupperware and begins munching contentedly.  Rae is dumbfounded, and I'm smirking at M as she noms her second slice, and we go back to prepping dinner.  About half way through the tupperware M says, I sure like these red peppers.  By the time Rae and I are finished with our work, M's eaten the entire tupperware full of red bell peppers.  She pops up, actually thanks me for the snack, and she and Rae head out to shoot some hoops.

It just goes to show how much we parents do have a say in the habits our kids form.  Sure, she asked for a piece of chocolate first, when isn't candy the first thing on a kid's mind?  But when told not before dinner, she found another, healthy alternative, and was actually happy for it.

And she got her piece of chocolate as an evening snack - after dinner.

Sometimes when I eat the crunchy cereal I can't hear you saying I Love You.

- M, this morning, when Rae was dropping her off at school.

We've always told M that we are always with her, in her heart, and that if she gets sad or misses us, if she listens closely, she can hear us saying I Love You from inside.  Yesterday and today she's been sad to leave us and go to school (too much fun over the xmas holiday!), and this is what she said to Rae while they were talking about needing to go to school and work after our vacations.

Sometimes being a parent is all about the little things.  For Rae and I, teaching M about nature is one of those little things.  From an early age we told her that bugs outside are fine, and that there's no reason to kill bugs or ants on the sidewalk, that they're just working, gathering food, walking home or to work.  Same with worms on the sidewalk after a good rain - whenever we see one on the driveway or sidewalk (provided it's not already fried by the sun), we pick it up and throw it into the garden to dig back in the soil.  Now, I still have to be the one to pick it up and toss it in the garden, but she's always on the lookout for worms to save, even saying on the occasions where one is already fried when we find it, "Too bad we weren't out here earlier, Poppa, we could have saved this worm.  He's fried now."

Well, this past week I had two opportunities to share nature with my little girl.  Last Thursday, when we got back from playing at the park after school (Rae was working late so I took M to the park before dinner) it was already getting dark and the sky was a deepening blue.  As we pulled into the driveway, windows down in the car, I heard the hoot hoot of the pair of owls we have living nearby.  Great Horned I think.  Great, deep haunting hoo hoo-hoo-HOO sound.  As we got out of the car I heard the pair calling back and forth and could tell they were close.  I searched the trees and there, at the top of our tree in the backyard, above our roof line, was perched one of the owls.  It was HUGE, sillhoetted against the blue twilight.  Every time it hooted it craned its neck and fluttered its tail feathers.  I called M over and pointed it out to her, and the next time it hooted she saw it.  She was so excited to see it up at the top of the tree, and listening to it hoot.  As we were watching, the other of the pair responded, and suddenly M says, "Poppa, I see the other one!"  There, just below and to the left of the first was the mate, fluttering its tail when it hooted.  We watched them both for several moments before they flew off on large, powerful wings.  She was amazed at seeing them take flight, and wanted to chase them into the cemetery behind to see if she could see them again.  As it was getting darker and there was NO way we were going to find them in the woods of the cemetery, we decided to go inside for dinner.

The second opportunity came Friday while I was mowing the front yard.  M was playing on the porch with her stuffed animals while I mowed.  As I came for a pass in the side yard a tiny garter snake darted away from my mower.  It startled me a bit, but I quickly turned off the mower and called M to come here quick.  She came running asking what I'd seen.  "A snake," I told her, "come look!"  We scooted under the hole in the fence to the backyard and there it was, about 5 or so inches long, slithering away from us.  M was in awe, I don't think she's ever seen a live snake before.  It was tiny, skinny, black with yellow stripes (this, though not as big).  We followed it for several seconds, but it was quick and we kept losing it in the uncut grass of the backyard.  Again, she was excited, and ran back to the front door to tell Rae what she'd seen.

Then Sunday M was in the front and side yard playing with her cousin who was in town.  She saw the box turtle that we've seen in the backyard several times over the years.  She was elated to show off the turtle to her cousin, all proud of herself and acting like this was just an everyday occurrence to her.  Someone has painted a pink splotch of nail polish on its back to keep track of it (this was the first time we've seen the pink, so either the mark was new or it was a different turtle that before - and I've seen a pair together, one with a lawnmower blade scuff on its back, so who knows).  M and her cousin named it Pinky the Turtle, and it was a pretty exciting morning.

So yeah, little things like turtles, snakes and owls in the backyard (not to mention the red tailed hawk from last fall), they're a big part of what makes parenting fun.  The little things - they don't take a lot of money, don't take a lot of prep time or need a big production.  That's why they're called little things.  But what they do require is for you to be on the look out for opportunities.  Pay attention to your surroundings, think like a kid, be aware things that could be new and exciting to your child.  It doesn't necessarily have to be about nature either.  I'm constantly pointing out construction equipment, police officers on horseback, or seeing a person riding a Sewgay down the sidewalk.  It's all part of our natural and built environment, and it's certainly all new to her, and fascinating and fun to see. 

Think about the last time you shared the small things with your kid, about your surroundings, about your next opportunity to share a small thing.  It doesn't take much more than being aware and open and having a kid's heart, and a desire to share.  What are some of the ways you share the little things with your child?  Let's generate some ideas and expand our opportunities to share the little things with our kids. 

Last night, M and I are out in the front yard playing Chicken Noodle Ball (the name she made up for us playing throw and kick and catch).  She's sitting on the stoop taking a break, watching me throw her purple ball in the air and catch it behind my back, when she says, "Only boys can have guns."

I stop.  (In the movie version I don't catch the ball as it falls, letting it dramatically bounce away from me, silence except for the ball crunching in the grass.)  I look at her and say, "What was that?"

M:  Only boys can shoot guns.  Boys 1, 2 & 3 were chasing each other at freeplay shooting guns.

Me:  What?  Like, real toy guns? (you can imagine my incredulity)  Boys 1, 2 & 3 were playing with toy guns in school? 

M:  Yeah (she holds up her fingers in a gun and shoots "pshew pshew") But then Miss Hoda said that guns were not allowed and took them away.  Miss Hoda and Miss Katie and Miss Gina all said that guns weren't toys and that they were not allowed to play with them.

Me:  That's right, sweetheart, they shouldn't have toy guns at school.  Guns aren't toys.

M:  Yeah, but only the boys get to have guns.

And that was the end of that.  She hopped up and we resumed playing Chicken Noodle Ball, with some Duck-Duck-Goose thrown in for good measure.

This morning I asked Miss Hoda about what M said.  Miss Hoda said, "No no no, they didn't have toy guns, they were just using their fingers.  M was joining them too, chasing them around.  A bunch of kids were doing it, but the three boys initiated it.  I immediately told them no, that playing guns was not allowed at school and they all stopped.  There's too much war in the world, I don't need it in my classroom.  I left Lebanon because of the war, I don't want to see kids bringing it to my classroom."

So it wasn't toy guns, but using their fingers like guns (just as she showed me out in the front yard).  And chasing and shooting each other.  I don't know what M knows about guns, and I suspect that she was really in it for the chase and tag and the follow the leader aspect, not knowing exactly what she was doing with her fingers or what guns really are (I suspect that of all the kids, really).  But I could be wrong, she might very well know.  I should ask her. 

I know kids will be kids, and boys will be boys - and I remember playing army and cops & robbers growing up - but as a parent, in this day and age, this really gives me pause.  It makes me wonder how it is that 3-5 year old kids know about guns, and shooting.  Of course they don't fully understand the implications, and they're just playing out the good guy/bad guy drama that they're starting to understand from fairy books and Disney movies.  I get that it's play, and they're exploring roles and acting them out, but why guns?  And how?  Just, where does it come from at such an early age?

I just had an interesting thought.  You know, if they were acting out bows & arrows or swords, If they were acting out some sort of white knight/black knight scenario, I think I would have less of an issue with it.  That maybe it's the fact that it was guns that bothers me, that it's somehow more real and less imaginary now days than it was back in my childhood.  I don't know, though.  Maybe it is just the violence I'm reacting to.  Guns or swords, it would have still been violence, and killing and death.  I just makes me wonder what kids that age (3-5) think, what they think they're doing, what they think happens when they shoot their finger gun or stab with a finger sword.  Of course it's just play, it's just acting roles, drama, imagination.  They're not thinking about that at all.  I guess that's what parents do - think, wonder, worry.

The final interesting aspect of this is that M thinks guns are only for boys.  I wonder where that came from.  My guess is that she was trying to join in and the other 3 boys told her she couldn't, that it was only a boys game.  If it isn't that, then I wonder what.  Maybe there's just something in her that says guns are a boys purview, and girls aren't really interested in them?

I remember M's first night terror as if it were last Friday.  It was a Friday evening about 2 years ago, Rae was at a cropping party, and M and I were having a little father-daughter evening.  She'd been in bed for about an hour when I heard her wailing at the top of her lungs.  This wasn't the fussy "I'm wet" or "I'm hungry", this was full on "something is not right".  I ran into her room and found her, eyes wide open, screaming at the top of her lungs.  I started calling to her, trying to soothe her with my voice, rubbing her tummy.  Nothing, not the slightest waiver in the screaming.  I rubbed her tummy even more, trying to get her to acknowledge me with her wide open eyes.  Nothing. 

I was growing concerned.  Here was my little girl, eyes open and awake (so I thought), screaming, seemingly not recognizing me and not settling down.  I scooped her up, held her, and the screaming got worse as she thrashed about.  I took her into the living room so I could see her (it seemed faster than trying to find the lightswitch in her bedroom), held her out in front of me, and looked at her screaming face.  I had no sign of what could be wrong, couldn't tell what hurt, all I could see was a screaming face with wide open eyes looking blankly at me. 

I held her up in the air, started screaming at her (panicked) to tell me what was wrong, screaming "what do I do, what do you need me to do!?", then holding her close, hugging, rocking, then holding her back out again so I could see her.  All the while was the blank stare and screaming.  I held her close again, kissing her all over her head and face, almost on the verge of tears not knowing what to do and about ready to call Rae when she settled down, almost as if a switch had been thrown.  No longer rigid from screaming, she melted into my arms and I held her, listening to her breathing, talking gently to her, listening to make sure nothing seemed amiss.  It only lasted a few minutes, but it seemed like a terrifying eternity.  When I put her back in her crib, I was emotionally and physically spent.  I went to the bedroom and watched the rest of a live jazz concert on PBS (it was their fund drive time).  That's how well I remember it.

That night I told Rae all about it when she got home, and she said "oh yeah, they're called night terrors, we were just talking about it at work the other day".  So I remember doing a bit of online research (don't recall anything specific, though a quick google search provided this site) and reading in a book we already had and just some talking to other parents.  I thought it weird that more parents resources (online or magazines) and even pre-birth classes didn't at least mention them.  Having never heard of them myself, they were indeed pretty terrifying.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago.  M starts waking up in the middle of the night with bad dreams.  She'll hollar out, maybe in her sleep, but by the time I'm in the room she's awake and sobbing and wanting up right away.  A few times, however, when I get in the room she's thrashing around with a blank stare on her face and realize she's in the midst of a night terror.  I know better now than to try and touch her, pick her up or stroke her to comfort her.  I might call to her, gently, but for the most part I'm just there to make sure she doesn't hurt herself (or me, as I don't usually get too close).  It had been a while since M had had any night terrors, so the first one, paticularly loud and violent, had both Rae and I out of bed.  The clarity that comes from the adrenalin rush of being pulled from sleep from a kid having night terrors is amazing, and we knew right off what it was.  Since then, there have been two others.  It helps that we know what's going on, but only just.  It's still hard to fall back asleep.

Finally, last night M was complaining that she hurt, that she ached - her shins, her ankles, her elbows.  Putting the pieces together - the moods during the day, the night terrors and now the aches, we realize that she's going through a farily significant growth spurt.  We've experienced this package of symptoms every 3-6 months and have gotten used to it, but it's always a surprise of sorts when it's been a while between spurts.  Again, it doesn't make it all go away, but it sure is reassuring to understand what's going on.  We're going to try and keep things low key at night for a while (moreso than usual) and see if that helps us through the current phase.

Posted without any backstory right now, because I think the letter says everything it needs to provide proper context. The letter accomplishes two things: one, gets it onto paper and out of my head so I can let it go; and two, says our piece rather suscinctly and emphatically.

Dear Mr. Boss of the Daycare :

I am writing on behalf of [Rae] and I to express our disappointment as well as our appreciation surrounding a recent incident involving our daughter, M. As you are aware, M had an accident while playing with some fellow students that resulted in a serious bump on her head. Without recounting the entire incident, M approached both teachers in the room at the time, Jennifer and Heather, to tell them she was hurt, and both failed to adequately check her over, care for the serious bump on her head, or comfort her.

As you would expect from the lack of attention, neither teacher filled out an incident report. It was only at M’s recounting of events to Ms. Eva that evening that Ken was able to begin investigating what happened. [Rae] and I talked with Ken Thursday morning at school, and he called me again that day to keep me informed of what he was discovering, from viewing the video and interviewing the teachers. He and I talked again this morning during which he showed me the video. The video, along with Jennifer’s account of events, corroborated M’s story.

I understand from talking with Ken this morning that Jennifer has been told that she did not follow procedures and that a written reprimand has been placed in her file. Further, that he would be talking about the incident again with Heather, as it appears she may have been less than forthcoming about what happened. It hardly needs to be said that we expect a verbal and written reprimand to be given to Heather as well.

[Rae] and I are extremely disappointed that something like this has happened. We chose to send M to [your center] 2.5 years ago because of the professional nature of the staff, the nurturing values that permeated the center, and the child-first concern that everyone shared. It is beyond us how two teachers could pass off a crying child in obvious need without so much as a hug. Disappointed and upset is hardly strong enough to convey our feelings.

On the other hand, the way Eva and Ken took an immediate concern to M’s telling of the event, and the thoroughness with which Ken pursued the matter, has gone a long way in reassuring us that M is indeed in good hands. You can imagine my emotions as I watched the video this morning, and what it took for me not to fume at Ken for this failing; yet his professionalism, his frankness with me in addressing the situation, and willingness and ability to take immediate actions to redress the situation were enough to show me that everything that could be done was being done. As he said, it is very unfortunate that it happened at all, but the best thing we can do moving forward is to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

In closing, thank you for creating an atmosphere at [your center] that would not allow this incident to be swept under the rug. I can imagine other centers where it would have been easier to discount the pleas of a three-year-old as, “eh, kids will be kids”. Instead, your supervisors were concerned and empowered to take charge of the situation and take action. Despite the unfortunate blemish, you can be proud of the way your supervisors handled the situation. Rest assured that [Rae] and I are happy that M enjoys going to [your center] for school, and enjoys learning from Ms. Hoda, Ms. Katie and Ms. Gina.

Thank you for your attention,

Here is a rather though provoking article in Wired Magazine about gamers having kids and how they themselves might navigate monitoring their own kids' game playing.

Gamers like me have spent years railing against ill-informed parents and politicians who've blamed games for making kids violent, unimaginative, fat or worse. But now we're in a weird position: We're the first generation that is young enough to have grown up playing games, but old enough to have kids.

So it turns out that, whoops, now we've got to make sober calls about what sort of entertainment is good or bad for our children. And what, precisely, are we deciding? I started making calls to my gamer posse find out.

We will all face pressures like this, from eating candy (the current challenge in our house) to makeup and clothes to iPods and cell phones - those peer pressures and society pressures that barrage kids from all directions, for which us parents must navigate the nos and maybes and house rules and face the fits and tantrums and but so-and-so's parents let her....  A non-parent or even a new parent might think that such issues wouldn't be until the kid was in kindergarten, but in the age of daycare at 3 months, it starts as soon as they become aware of each other - thumb sucking, chewing with their mouth open or talking with their mouth full of food were a few of the early ones for us.  Then it was pushing/hitting, throwing things at people, and believe it or not swearing (not that she knew what she was saying, but merely mimicking something she heard one of her young classmates say).

We've got a phrase my wife and I already use on our soon-to-be three year old - we don't do that in our family. We explain how the particular behavior isn't going to be tolerated by either of us, why we think it's wrong (and that's an important part, so it's just not us saying no, but that it's hurtful, disrespectful, or rude, what have you), and that there will be people who do it, but they shouldn't and we just don't do it.  It's worked pretty well.  There have been many times, at the mall or a restaurant, where M will see a kid (or even an adult) behaving "badly" and she'll tell us, "Look, that person shouldn't do that, we don't do that in our family."  And sometimes she'll even say why it's bad, "He should cover his mouth when he coughs, he's spreading germs and going to make people sick." 

So, she's understanding that there is good behavior and bad, what we expect from her, and that the rules aren't the same for everyone, just those in our family.  We know it's really sunk in when she admonishes us for something we don't do in our family, and hey, a rule is a rule.  (What's really fun is when she says it to her grandparents, or her cousin *grin*)

My loyal readers know that we've had some interesting steps recently on our family spiritual journey.  Last weekend, on my trip to Chicago, I listened to a podcast from Speaking of Faith, a show that airs on our NPR station on Sunday mornings.  Last November, they had a show on The Spirituality of Parenting.  Host Krista Tippett discusses with guest Rabbi Sandy Sasso about all of the various ways parents can explore and nurture the spirituality in their children, from whatever faith tradition the family may have (or not have).

More and more people in our time are disconnected from religious institutions, at least for part of their lives. Others are religious and find themselves creating a family with a spouse from another tradition or no tradition at all. And the experience of parenting tends to raise spiritual questions anew. We sense that there is a spiritual aspect to our children's natures and wonder how to support and nurture that. The spiritual life, our guest says, begins not in abstractions, but in concrete everyday experiences. And children need our questions as much as our answers.

Ms. Tippett: Talk to me about prayer with children and how you think about the forms that might take and what it means.

Ms. Sasso: Well, I actually think it's very important, but I also know it's very difficult. I don't think it's easy to pray, and I say that as a rabbi. I have forms that I can conform to and say, but what does it really mean to speak a prayer of your heart? But I do feel that it's very important to pray with children, mostly because our children are so bombarded with noise and activity and there's very little time for silence and reflection. We do know that of all the questions that teachers ask children, teachers answer 80 percent of them, because we abhor vacuums, we don't like silence. And I think in moments of quiet and silence, children give us a glimpse of their souls. So what would it mean, for example, at night when our children are going to bed to sit with them and reflect? And wouldn't that also be a prayer? And I think sometimes people say, "Well, really, we don't know what to pray." And I often say, "Well, ask children if they would tell you a prayer from their heart." And then children are usually very clever and they say, "I don't have one." So my response is, "Well, would you mind listening while I say a prayer from mine?" And I think that provides an example of what does it mean to say deep words. I don't think it has to conform to any traditional structure, although sometimes a traditional structure makes it easier.

Ms. Tippett: Helpful, yes.

Ms. Sasso: It's helpful because you say, "OK, I don't know what to say, but I've got something." But I think you just say what's in your heart. Name your hopes, name what your grateful for, name your fears. That's a prayer.

At the end of the conversation, Sasso talks about the importance of having a community to help support parents in encouraging and nurturing the spirituality of children.  So many points in it rang so true to me and to our reasoning for joining Eliot Chapel and introducing M to the Eliot community.  It really pulled together many of the thoughts Rae and I have had over the months leading up to going to Eliot.

Ms. Tippett: All right, let's say — and I think that this is a situation that is not really uncommon these days. Let's say there's a young couple, religion has maybe not been too much a part of either of their lives and has not been part of their courtship before their marriage. They have children, they don't have kind of their native traditions to draw on, and then as they try to think about how to nurture this part of their child's life, they are not in agreement. I mean, they don't have a vocabulary for figuring this out or figuring out how to address this in their child. What would be your best rabbinical advice?

Ms. Sasso: I would suggest just explore your roots, just give it a chance. See if there might not be something there. Become part of the community where people talk about these issues. Just like there are other parenting groups that you talk about, you know, "How do I get my child to go to sleep?" How do I — you know, all these other really, you know, compelling issues when you're a parent. Talk to other people who share your common spiritual values, who live a life that you value. I think, you know, we have all kinds of mentors for our children. You know, we have music educators. We have, you know, coaches in sports. We might look for spiritual mentors. Who are those people that live the kind of life that is gracious and compassionate and kind and loving and courageous? Those are the kinds of people we ought to be talking to to see how we might share that kind of life with our children. And then, of course, you know, there are — I wouldn't say — there's no book that is an expert book. There are no answers to these really big questions. I think that's what everybody's afraid of. You know, "Oh, I don't have the answer" and, you know, "There are people who've thought about this for so many years." That's not what's important. There are no absolute answers. There are questions, and there is the conversation, and there is the journey.

I think if you can take the hand of your child on that journey, you not only enrich his or her life, you really enrich your own. Children open windows for us, or can crawl through windows that we can't crawl through, and they open part of our life that maybe has been dormant for a long time.

Here's a site I came across that really seems fun and informative for parents, kids and teens.  Clicking around, there seems to be a little gap in the target audience between newborns (info for new parents) and, say, 7 or 8 year olds.  Still, it looks like a good resource (from what little I've looked around) and thought others might appreciate hearing about it.

kidshealth.org

I'm curious, though.  Do you think sites like this have value?  Do you think kids find these sites and visit them and use them on their own?  Do you think sites like this get promoted in schools?  How would kids find this?  Or their parents for that matter?

So someone read my blog and asked, "Why is Red 40 such an important issue?  What has it ever done to you besides turn your tongue red when you eat a piece of candy?"  It was said in jest, but I realized that many here on vox (I think people still read this) don't know about M's allergy to it, and what a pain in the butt it is, and how little is known or recognized about the potential adverse effects of the nasty stuff.

So why the Red 40 crusade?  Well, the first answer is a selfish one (don't all crusades start out that way?), and that is because M is allergic to it. 

M's history with the stuff
Part 1 - where we discover Red 40 in children's  OTC medicine

We discovered it around her 18-month check up, when her doc said it was okay to switch from the infant medicines (typically dye-free) to the relatively cheaper children's medicines (all full of artificial colors and flavors).  So we went right out and bough children's Tylenol, Motrin, PediaCare and Benadryl.  Shortly after she got a cold, and we started giving her the new meds.  By the end of the day we noticed a rash, and having had allergic reactions to things myself, I recognized it right away for what it was - an allergic reaction - to something.  So, we gave her Benadryl to counter it, and the rash only got worse.  Got her in to the doc and ran through everything that had transpired in the last 24 hours and he finally deduced that it was the dye in the meds causing her hives.  He said it's rare, that he's never had any kids exhibit the allergy before, but that was what he thought it was.  We switched back to the dye-free infant meds and the rash immediately went away.  And so, we discovered M's allergy to Red 40.

Part 2 - where we discover that Red 40 shows up when you're not expecting it

After that we were conscious of the Red 40 issue but only in so much as it came in medicines.  We didn't really think about it being in anything else because we tended to eat pretty healthy, didn't have any candy or colored/flavored drinks in the house, and she just never exhibited any more symptoms.  Then, around her birthday last year, we were eating lunch at Applebee's and M really wanted a smoothie.  Not a shake, but a smoothie (we'd been making fresh berry and yogurt smoothies at home).  They came back with what amounted to a red slushie, and not thinking anything of it we let her have it and she drank the whole thing down.  In a matter of an hour she was red, full of hives from head to toe and very uncomfortable.  We got her on Benadryl and I knew immediately what the culprit was.  I googled grenadine and red 40 and found that grenadine is pretty much Red 40 and corn syrup (that's why she slurped the whole smoothie down).  After a couple of doses of Benadryl the hives were gone and she was back being herself again.  Now we began to be a bit more aware, giving things away like Jell-o and cool-aid.

Part 3 - Where we discover Red 40 shows up in prescriptions too

The drop that finally broke the damn happened over the holidays.  The day we were ready to head to KC, M complained of an ear ache.  Luckily we got her into the doctors that morning, and sure enough, she had her first ear infection in over a year (she'd had tubes, but they'd fallen out a month or so ago, and she had managed to avoid any infections until this one).  Doc prescribed her Amoxicillin (most people, whether a parent or not, remember 'the pink stuff'), and we filled it at the corner Walgreens and we were off and running.  Two doses Friday.  Two more doses Saturday, and by mid-day we notice a little rash.  Last dose Saturday night, another dose Sunday morning, the hives are worse and she's itching and really uncomfortable.  It hits me like a ton of bricks, and why we hadn't thought about it I don't know (I think because we were so focused on getting out of town), but we realize there has to be Red 40 in the Amoxicillin.  Call up the local Walgreens and sure enough, it's in there.  After calls back home to her doc (after a 10 minute conversation with the nurses on the exchange, because they wouldn't believe M is allergic to Red 40) and more back and forth between doc and a local Walgreens, we finally get a new prescription for a medicine that doesn't have Red 40 in it.  To the tune of $40.  By Sunday night the hives were gone, but M hated the new meds.  Eh, we thought, such is the price for having a Red 40 allergy.  Within 2 days and lots of internet research and a few phone calls, I find out that doesn't have to be the case.  (Gotta love cliffhanger endings, don't you?)

So that's our Red 40 history, the beginning to an ongoing story.  There's so much more to the story, but for now I'll end it with that.  I think it'll be more helpful to break up the next few parts of the story into different topics on the off chance people who are affected by Red 40 get around to reading this and want to be able to make heads or tails of things.