“We’ve got something extra for you!” the booth attendant chirped. My gaze fell on a small glass bowl filled with Hershey’s miniatures, and I felt a familiar wave of frustration wash over me.
“I appreciate it, but my kids can’t have any,” I replied, glancing back at my three boys, lined up like soldiers, fully aware that they were ineligible for the sugary temptations.
“Why not?” the woman inquired, as if I were a villain in a candy heist. Perhaps she thought I was a strict nut who relished denying my children treats. Honestly, I get it—who really says no to a Krackle bar?
I do. I say no, no, and no again for a reason: if they were to indulge, it would lead to chaos. My oldest would morph into a screeching whirlwind of rage, hurling insults and objects alike. My middle child would spiral into a series of tantrums that would rival any Broadway show, refusing food, seatbelts, or basic decency. And my youngest? Just imagine a non-stop fountain of tears.
This scenario extends to gluten and food dyes. It took us years to pinpoint these sensitivities, with their milk intolerance being the first red flag since infancy. As the Reflux Rebels point out, milk intolerance can manifest in a range of distressing symptoms, including fussiness and severe reflux.
While they’ve outgrown many of those issues, the fussiness and irritability linger. They also grapple with non-celiac gluten intolerance, which presents symptoms similar to celiac disease like brain fog and hyperactive behaviors. The connection between food dyes and behavioral problems in kids, especially those with ADHD, has gained traction in recent studies, making me even more vigilant.
A slip-up involving milk, gluten, or dye can turn our weekends into an exhausting marathon of meltdowns. My husband and I collapse on the bed, drained, as I lament the monstrous behavior of our children while he assures me it’s just the milk. It’s such a familiar pattern that we can often trace it back, even discovering that German sausage contains milk—who knew?
I’ve become that mom—the one who interrogates waitstaff about every ingredient. “Does that veggie dish contain butter? Are you certain these scrambled eggs are milk-free?” My husband rolls his eyes at my relentless questioning, especially when I’m in a restaurant known for never serving milk in their eggs. But I’ve learned the hard way—recipes can change overnight.
These intolerances mean my kids miss out on typical childhood experiences. Krackle bars? Never tasted. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups? Off the table. M&Ms? Not a chance. Halloween is especially disheartening; every candy seems to be loaded with the forbidden trio of milk, gluten, or dyes.
So when they can indulge, they do—just not in the usual treats. They have developed a taste for dark chocolate, the kind that most kids shy away from. They adore Trader Joe’s meringues and coconut macaroons. I keep a stash of safe candies and often trade them for more mainstream options: organic gummy worms for their sugary counterparts, real strawberries for Nerds. I even bake special cakes for their birthdays, so they have something delicious while their friends dive into the “real” stuff. It’s a labor of love, albeit a bit of a headache.
People often express their sympathy, asserting how sad it is. And no, they can’t have “just a taste.” My mother used to think I was overreacting until she witnessed the aftermath of Blaise eating butter—her skepticism vanished in an instant. Others try to debate my decisions, knowing that since I say “intolerant” instead of “allergic,” my kids aren’t in immediate danger. But if they want to parent my children for the next two days, then sure, let’s talk about that orange soda.
When we first removed gluten from Blaise’s diet due to his behavioral challenges, our favorite waitress discreetly took note of his dietary needs. At the end of the meal, she remarked that if this was how he behaved without gluten, she’d never offer it to him again. That moment felt like a small victory in my ongoing battle.
Fortunately, many substitutes exist for the foods they can’t have—gluten-free bread, dairy-free ice cream, and even gluten- and milk-free cookies. My kids don’t miss out too much in the grand scheme of things.
So please, don’t offer them mainstream snacks. Don’t pressure me to relax the rules. A small taste could lead to chaos. I’m not a strict mom; I’m just a mom who understands what my kids need to thrive. If I didn’t, I’d be lost in the chaos.
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In summary, navigating food intolerances can be a challenge, but with careful management, it’s possible for kids to enjoy their childhood without feeling deprived. It’s about finding alternatives and understanding what works best for them.