ADHD; Food Allergies; Seasonal Allergies; and more

I am sitting here trying to decide where to start...I have learned so much info over the last few weeks it is frightening! I guess let me start with my ADHD son's diet...if you read previous blogs you will find out that he has a red dye and gluten allergy. While researching food allergies in general I learned more than I ever wanted to learn! LOL I met another mom who has an autistic son. She changed his whole diet and he has now improved so much that he would be considered a "high functioning autistic". Then my sil and I were discussing some of the changes in the autistic child's diet and she was telling me what she had learned about certain food items. Then I read this book: "Animal Factory". If you get a chance you should read it. It is an intense book about how America's food is being processed and how bad it now is for you. Anyways so after reading that book and everything else I had learned I took a step back and looked at what my family had been eating...It wasn't a pretty sight. I started incorporating more veggies and fruits (organic and local grown) into our diets. I started cutting out processed foods...I am no saint so believe there is still processed foods in my house but I am hoping to convert my family to all whole cooked foods within the next year. This will be particularly hard for them since they seem to be addicted to Mac&Cheese! I am also slowly changing over to local farm meats, antibiotics and hormone free. I also started my kids on probiotics, Fage (which also has probiotics), and vitamins, particularly the Omega 3s. The probiotics replace your good bacteria that any antibiotics will kill. If you ever have to take an antibiotic you should always take a probiotics. Fage is basically an unsweetened yogurt but much better for you than yogurt. I add honey and fruit to it for the kids. I had read lots of research that said Omega 3s are good for ADHD kids (and any child on the spectrum-Autistic, Aspergers, ADD, ADHD, etc). I want to add fish oil, zinc, magnesium, vitamin K supplements at some point since there is also research on these with the spectrum kids. So over the last 2 weeks or so I have changed our diet and I saw that for my ADHD son this has drastically improved his symptoms. He has been sleeping better, hardly any hyperactivity, and better concentration. While his physical symptoms have improved his emotional have become worse. Some of these emotional symptoms I am not even sure he had before...He acts like he has been mortally wounded when anyone touches him. He is suddenly very afraid of things he didn't fear a month or so ago. For instance: at the beginning of summer I had to constantly watch him when we went swimming because he liked to go into the deeper water (even though he couldn't swim very well). Now he is terrified of going into water above his waist-to the point where he won't even do swimming lessons. Even if I hold him and go in the deeper water he freaks out, afraid I will let go of him. As far as I know he hasn't seen any movies/shows with drownings, etc so I am not sure about this change. And it isn't even just the water -it is other things too. These are not symptoms that I have found to be linked to ADHD in any of my readings...I have seen them linked to Aspergers though...So I have started researching Aspergers. I am lucky to have a friend who has an Aspergers son and I can go to him with my questions. My son does not exhibit the necessary requirements to be diagnosed Aspergers. However I think, given that they are all on the "spectrum", just as Aspergers share some of Autistics traits, ADHD can share some of Aspergers traits. I am just wondering why it seems like these symptoms have appeared all the sudden...

Death and Kids

All the Little Things

From “The Rest of Us” by Jacquelyn Mitchard

“We were barely settled after arriving for a week’s visit with friends in Washington, D.C., when it became apparent that their nine-year-old son’s hamster, Hank, was headed for the big aluminum exercise wheel in the sky.

That may sound comic. But the situation actually was pretty grim. Like many modern kids with mobile parents, our friends’ son, Zachery, unable to have a big dog or a furry feline, transferred all that affection seeking to Hank and Nerissa, his pals in the neighboring cage on the laundry-room floor. …kids then laid …Hank…to rest under the big tree where others of his tribe had gone before him.

“This is why I resist getting my kids pets,” I told Gayle, who answered that this was actually part of why she did get them pets. We stood there uncomfortably, watching our children play in the yard. “I just don’t want to be surrounded by things that are so fragile,” I said.

“But you already are,” Gayle said.

She brought a new hamster (Nancy) later that day.

A few days after we’d left, Gayle called to tell me that Zachary began crying hard one night in bed. “It’s Hank, it’s Hank,” he said. “I can’t get over it.” She murmured comforting things, about the good times, about the end of pain. Zach seemed momentarily comforted. Then he began to cry again. What is it? His mother asked. “It’s death, it’s death,” Zachary said. “I can’t get over it.”

I’m with you, kid.”

We have had many family deaths within the last year. My oldest son had experienced the death of his great-grandfather when he was about 5 yrs old. I am not really sure if he remembered that. I don't remember him really asking any questions about it. My middle son was 2 yrs old at the time so he doesn't remember that funeral. But this last year and a half we have had 3 family deaths on my husband's side of the family. The fist death, even though it was the kids' great-grandpop, didn't seem to really faze them. This may be because it was just a memorial service since Pop was cremated. Then in May their great-great grandma died. She was about 100 yrs old and hadn't been herself for a long time. The boys didn't even really know her. But this was an actually funeral with the graveside service also. My middle son was extremely concerned that they were going to put her in this hole in the ground. He didn't understand since he had never witnessed this before, therefore we had not had to explain the burial process. Once I explained that it was just her body that was going into the ground he still was very concerned...it took him the rest of the day to accept it. Even now, he occasionally brings it up. And now we have another funeral to go to- my husband's uncle (the kids great-uncle). This time it is just the memorial service but I am dreading it. I am sure this time my middle son will have lots of questions about why there isn't a body in a casket and why we aren't burying him in a graveyard. I just am not sure how I am going to answer them. 

As I read the above short story from Jacquelyn Mitchard's book it just touched me and I thought I would share it.  

My "Different" child

This short story reminds me of my ADHD child. I hope someone gets some hope/ encouragement from it.

My Son the Warrior

Taken from “The Rest of Us” by Jacquelyn Mitchard

“Until now, we took a fair amount of pride in the fact that we could raise boys we described as sturdy but gently. Boys who could throw straight but also liked to cuddle, and who made guns from their breakfast toast only occasionally, not every day.

Then along out of babyhood came our youngest son, now rounding the curve toward age three, and we have to admit we think this boy is an alien life form.

Martin, who has been raised exactly like his brothers have been raised, sleeps with a plastic scimitar tucked into the band of his training pants. He sidles up to the couch evenings, and with a beseeching look in his almond-shaped brown eyes, says, “Mommy, may you fight me please?” He often carries two swords (spoons will do in a pinch) for this purpose. And so I sit, desultorily whacking away in a moral combat with my toddler, who crows when he lands a direct hit, “You’re dead now, Mommy. Please fall over.”

I know that Martin loves me—after all, he must depend on me to give him food since he is too short to reach the cabinet handles. But when I hear him sing his version of his favorite song, “Ol’ McDonald had no mommy, ee-ay-ee-ay-oh….” I am unsettles. And recently, he performed a Freudian maneuver that was an even greater source of consternation.

We have a children’s wooden crèche next to our Christmas tree, and we had versions of making it work in the style that French families do—you know: The Three Kings (called the “Wise Guys” by our sons) start out a few feet away from the manager and move a little closer every day throughout Advent.

Martin took an interest in the crèche this year, and I noticed immediately that every night at bedtime, Baby Jesus was on the roof of the stable.

“Why is he up there, Marty?” I asked.

“He is hiding from his mommy,” Martin explained with his customary intensity. “She always tells him no, don’t do that. He can’t stand her.”

This, I thought, is an angry young man. And I get further evidence all the time that Martin is the toughest cookie in our jar.

The other night, I was helping him put on his pajamas—an indignity he no longer suffers gladly. Taking pity on his restless cried, I soothed him, “There, there. You’re Mom’s little puppy….”

“No!” he cried. “I’m ling of the wild frontier.”

I suppose it is difficult to be king of the wild frontier and still have someone count out the carrots on your plate. Martin’s nature brings home to me again and again the truth that our sons and daughters are only passing through. At first, they are of you, born to come to your arms. Rapidly, they are with you, pausing only long enough for you to dab a few hurried strokes of paint on the canvas they are becoming—they are on their way to belonging to themselves, and then to the world. If we are lucky, they always will consider our home their harbor, but they are headed out to the open sea, almost from the first.

I sit tonight, looking at Mother Mary, her head softly bowed as she waits inside the stable for her little son to get over his fit of pique and come down from the roof. And I think of thousands of years of mothers of growing children who bowed their heads and hoped for the best, as they wondered, What child is this?”