“Look what we have!” the booth attendant chimed, holding up a small glass bowl filled with Hershey’s miniatures. I felt a familiar wave of frustration wash over me.
“I appreciate it, but my kids can’t have any,” I replied. My three boys stood behind me, in order of height, fully aware that sweets were off-limits.
“Why not?” the woman asked, a hint of disbelief in her tone. It’s a question I’ve grown accustomed to. Perhaps they think I’m being overly strict, as if denying my children a treat is an act of cruelty.
“They have a milk intolerance,” I explained.
“Oh no! Aren’t they doing well not reaching for it? We wouldn’t want anyone ending up in the hospital!”
While that’s not quite an accurate depiction of an intolerance, I appreciated her relief that I wasn’t a tyrannical mom. But honestly, if your kid can enjoy candy, who turns it down?
I do. I say no, over and over—one “no” for each child—because here is what would happen if they had that Krackle bar: for the first six hours, they’d appear fine. Then my oldest would morph into a screaming whirlwind of chaos. “I hate you, Mom!” he’d yell, likely before launching an object at his brother.
My middle son would dissolve into a series of tantrums, refusing food, kicking the dog, and generally wreaking havoc. And my youngest? He’d just cry. Nonstop.
This same scenario plays out with gluten and food dyes. It took years to uncover their intolerances beyond milk, which was easily identified due to its early onset. As highlighted by Reflux Rebels, milk intolerant infants tend to exhibit “excessive gassiness and fussiness” along with severe reflux and other distressing symptoms.
Fortunately, my children have outgrown many of these issues, but they still deal with the irritability and fussiness that Reflux Rebels describes. Additionally, they suffer from non-celiac gluten intolerance, which can cause a variety of troubling symptoms similar to those of celiac disease. The Celiac Disease Foundation notes that this can include “foggy mind” and ADHD-like behavior.
The connection between food dyes and disruptive behavior, particularly in children with ADHD, has gained traction in recent years, with studies indicating potential links.
An unintentional exposure to milk, gluten, or food dye can derail an entire weekend. My husband and I often find ourselves exhausted, sprawled on the bed, as I lament about our children’s monstrous behavior while he reassures me that it’s just a food reaction. We’ve become adept at pinpointing the source of their distress—who knew that certain sausages contained milk?
As a result, I’ve become quite the interrogator when it comes to food. “Does that vegetable have butter? Is there milk in your scrambled eggs? Can you confirm this is a gluten-free bun?” I’m always on high alert. If I didn’t prepare it, I double-check everything. This can annoy my husband, especially when I ask about milk in scrambled eggs at a restaurant known for not including it. But I’ve learned the hard way that recipes can change, and we’ve suffered the consequences.
These intolerances mean my children miss out on many typical childhood experiences. They’ve never had a Krackle bar or a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, and they can’t indulge in M&Ms or most sodas since we avoid all food dyes. Every hamburger and hot dog lacks a bun, and Halloween is just plain disappointing—virtually every candy contains milk, gluten, or dye.
However, if they can have a treat that fits their dietary restrictions, they dive in. My kids have a fondness for dark chocolate—the type most kids shy away from. They enjoy Trader Joe’s meringues and coconut macaroons. I keep a stash of safe candies, trading them for mainstream options: organic gummy worms for the sugary kind, fresh strawberries for Nerds. I even bake safe cakes for birthday parties, ensuring my kids have their own treats while others indulge. It’s labor-intensive, but I’m committed.
People often express their sympathy, and many don’t understand why I refuse “just a taste.” My mother was initially skeptical of my parenting until she witnessed the effects of butter on Blaise. Suddenly, she understood. Others tend to argue with me, thinking that since I use the term “intolerant” rather than “allergic,” it means it’s negotiable. It’s not, unless they want to experience the aftermath of a food reaction themselves. So, please, keep your orange soda to yourself.
When we first eliminated gluten from Blaise’s diet due to behavioral issues, we discreetly informed our regular waitress not to mention it. By the end of the meal, she remarked that if that was how he behaved off gluten, she’d never serve it to him again. It was reassuring to know that I wasn’t imagining things.
Fortunately, there are substitutes for most foods—breads, waffles, sodas, and candies. Trader Joe’s even offers gluten-free and dairy-free Oreos, plus soy ice cream. Overall, my kids don’t miss out on too much.
But they can’t partake in many mainstream foods, so please refrain from suggesting them. And don’t pressure me to let them try something. Yes, a taste can have consequences. And no, I’m not a crazed mom; I just know what’s best for my kids. I couldn’t handle them without these precautions.
For more on navigating parenthood, check out our other blog posts like the one on home insemination kits. If you’re interested in research on parenting and child development, join us in research at UCSF. Additionally, if you’re pregnant or planning a family, the March of Dimes provides excellent resources for every stage of your journey.
In summary, navigating my children’s dietary restrictions has been a challenging yet rewarding journey. With careful planning, I ensure they don’t miss out on special moments, even if it requires extra effort.