And other days I wonder how to get a grip.

There are days, when I worry about the BoyChild constantly.

I worry about whether he will have a meltdown at school. Whether he will make it through the afternoon. Whether we will be able to eat dinner. Whether that particular piece of food contains corn syrup. Whether someone will douse themselves in perfume that will set him off at the grocery store. Whether he will poke someone at basketball practice thereby causing them to fall and hurt themselves.

A great day at our house is if he manages to go all day without having an outburst, crying jag, hitting someone, inappropriate talking, kicking someone or a melt-down of some kind. We don’t have many great days. Most of them are just so-so.

Some days I feel like I have a handle on it. Other days I don’t have any idea what’s going on.

We’ve removed a bunch of foods from his diet; he doesn’t eat wheat, corn, dairy or rice. Some days I think we’ve got a pretty good handle on his diet. I actually think it’s time to try moving stuff back INTO his diet to see if he can tolerate them.

Other days. I don’t know. He gets foul gas. He appears to be bloated. He seems more agitated than others. But then you know, if I had foul gas and was bloated, I’d probably be agitated too.

I’ve identified some things which he may never be able to eat. Corn syrup, for instance. It is wicked. I don’t know if that also applies to corn on the cob, frozen corn, pop corn or corn chips. Those are things we probably need to try. But for now. We’re not eating them

Everytime it seemed like we’d get a handle on his diet, it seems like something else begins to be a problem. The doctor tells me that is what they call “unmasking.”

Now that we seem to kinda sorta have a handle on his diet, his sensory issues seem to be looming larger.

I feel like I’m playing that game. The one where the moles pop up and you are suppose to hit them with a big hammer. Except when you hit one hole, the mole pops up in another.

Basketball practice and basketball games are a particular challenge. The gym where we play basketball and practice really is one of the seven levels of hell. It is loud. There are buzzers and whistles going off all the time. People are shouting. I leave there and my teeth are on edge and my brain feels like it’s vibrating in my head. And though he wants to play, I’m not sure he can yet handle the environment. I’m thinking we my need to give it up. I know. It’s only been three weeks but three weeks of hell is more than enough.

I read all these books. It makes suggestions on how to handle children like the BoyChild.

“When you take him to the grocery store, let your sensory sensitive child push the cart.” I read that and wonder how that works? When we get in the store, and the BoyChild begins to go into sensory over-load, the last thing I want to do is give him a WEAPON.

I talked to his OT last week. She said they’ve been talking about his “engine” and how it feels; is it in over-drive, is it normal, is it slow? She says we need to ask him how his “engine” is when he gets over-loaded. We’ve tried that. Sometimes he looks at us like we’ve lost our minds; that sort of “what’cu talking bout Willis” look. Other times he tells me he doesn’t have an engine. And still others he tells me his engine is asleep. Uhm. O.K. I’ll have the Huz report back to the OT.

They recommend 30 minutes to an hour twice a day of physical activity; particularly upper-body activity and before school would be good too. “Take him to the park and let him run around and play” says the OT. It’s 21 degrees outside today. Who exactly is suppose to go outside with him?

And let me do the math. He has to be at school at 8:30. And if we did 45 minutes of physical activity that takes us to 7:45. And to keep it simple, we’ll say we can get to a nice park in 15 minutes. Which we probably can’t but we won’t go there. That takes us to 7:30. And we gotta get back. That’s another 15 minutes so we’re at 7:15. And we have to get up and get dressed and get our teeth brushed and our face washed that takes another 30 minutes. So now we’re at 6:45. And we need to eat and that can take as much as 30 minutes. So now we’re at 6:15. And that doesn’t take into account that we have to get up and we have to get ready and I have to go to work and the GirlChild has to go to school Gaaaahhhhh!

You want to know pathetic? We’ve been walking to the high school that’s not far from here. And we run. And when I get tired of running? I found a pole! A really heavy metal one. I have him go get it and bring it to me so I can look at it. Then I have him take it back. We found some chairs. I don’t know why they are just hanging around outside the building. I have him move them. “No, really honey, I want to sit in THAT corner with the chair.” And I make him move all three of them. So I’ll have a choice. But I can’t do that everyday. And the Huz can only do so many things in a day.

And there really isn’t a point to this. Just some days I think I need to get a grip and other days I wonder how.

Technorati Tags: Food Allergies, Allergic children, Feingold Diet