Undone

Sarah found a new game to play, and it’s based on the children’s TV show “Big Comfy Couch”. She pulls all of the books/toys/videos from their shelves and says, “Who made this mess? ME?! I better clean it up…it’s only fair!” Cute…I know. But there’s a glitch. When she cleans it up, instead of putting all of this stuff where it belongs, she sticks it behind a chair in the family room. It was adorable the first time…after about 20 times it’s becoming a lot of work - for me.

That brings me to my major annoyance this week. No matter how hard I work, nothing ever seems to be done. When I was working in the nursing world, I had tasks to do that could actually be completed. I would dress a wound, chart, report any problems, and then I would be done…on to the next task. Even if that task was, say, an enema or a catheter, I would be happy to help. Mainly because I was getting paid, people were appreciative (for the most part), and I wouldn’t have to do it over and over again.

Since I’ve been staying home with my kids, I’ve been really missing the feeling I get when I complete a task. I just don’t get the same sense of satisfaction when I finish a load of laundry, because there are usually a few loads waiting for me. When I’m cleaning the bathroom upstairs, chances are good that someone is peeing on the floor in the other bathroom. And, as I’m washing the floor in the front hall, I can be sure that one of the kids is walking through the back door with muddy boots…or God forbid they step in something much nastier.

I hope as the kids get older, keeping the house clean will get easier. By then they’ll be able to pitch in. Maybe I’ll have a chore chart stuck on my fridge, and they’ll all follow it religiously. I’ll be careful not to give indoor tasks to the girls and outdoor tasks to Ryan. (I hate it when people assume that girls should be doing the dishes and boys cutting the grass.) They’ll do their own laundry, and actually put it away. They’ll always hang up their coat in the closet and put their boots on the tray. Before going to bed every night they’ll make sure their room is tidy, and before they leave in the morning their bed will always be made.

If I really want them to do this, I should probably try doing it myself, first.

Merry Christmas To You...Oops!

I love this time of year – the beginning of the holiday season. In the first week of December we get out our Christmas decorations, each one evoking a special memory. We sing our favourite Christmas carols and bake delicious cookies and squares. It is also the time of year that people like to share their treats with friends…and when Ryan has had his only “food accidents” at school.

The first accident happened in the day-care Ryan was attending three years ago. The children were sitting down for snack and a well-meaning volunteer gave him a cookie - a very easy mistake to make. When you have a lot of different staff members and the occasional volunteer, it’s easy to overlook someone with a food allergy. I have to say that apart from this incident, this daycare handled allergies incredibly well. The week before the “accident” I attended a meeting, where I trained the entire staff to use the Epi-Pen and explained the extent of Ryan’s allergies. They posted a form on the wall that included a picture of Ryan, the foods he is allergic to, and our action plan. Unfortunately, the volunteer did not see this form. But…accidents happen, and fortunately for Ryan, this time his reaction was limited to nausea.

The second mistake was in Ryan’s JK class. One of his friends brought a tray full of delicious Christmas cookies to school. The teacher was standing on the other side of the room as the tray was being passed around the lunch table. Ryan picked up one of the irresistible cookies, and as he put it to his lips the teacher remembered he shouldn’t be eating it. She yelled out, “Ryan, NO!!”, but it was too late. He took one bite of the cookie, and after a few seconds he threw up all over himself. When I came to pick him up a few minutes later, he was feeling much better. His teacher, on the other hand, felt absolutely awful. I explained to her that Ryan is on a learning curve – he needs to learn that he can’t always eat what everyone around him is eating. This must have been a good lesson for him, because he hasn't had one since.

Relief…that is what I felt after each of these accidents. I thought it would be fear, but it was mostly relief. I was relieved that Ryan’s reactions were relatively mild – and I was also relieved that Ryan had made a mistake in the first place. For those few seconds, when he was in awe of this beautiful Christmas cookie, maybe he forgot that he is an “allergic kid”.

Wake-Up Call

I’m very glad to say that we’re all feeling better now. The flu hit our household hard – Jason was the only one that didn’t get it. Rebecca took the brunt of this illness, having a temperature over 39.6 degrees Celsius (between 103 – 104 degrees for our American friends) for four days. After a week and a half she’s starting to build up her stamina, and her trademark appetite is almost back to normal.
Seeing how brutal this virus was on our otherwise healthy daughter, I was really afraid of how it would affect Ryan. For a few days before the H1N1 vaccine was available to high-risk individuals, I was on the phone trying to find a way for him to safely get the vaccine. I was hoping that someone in town would be able to do a skin test with the vaccine to see if Ryan would have a reaction. Unfortunately, only allergists are able to do skin tests. As much as I love living in a small town, our access to specialists is really lacking. When we lived in Peterborough, we had a fantastic allergist that wanted to see Ryan three to four times per year. After moving to Owen Sound, we were referred to an allergist in Kitchener-Waterloo (which is two hours away from us), who only wanted to see Ryan when he needed to have allergy testing.
Here’s the deal – Ryan hasn’t been tested in three years. There is a good chance that his food allergies may have changed and I don’t even know for sure if he still is allergic to eggs. I hope that he’s not, but no one in their right mind would give him that vaccine without doing the appropriate tests. This was a real wake-up call for me – we really need to get this boy tested again. H1N1 will not be the last pandemic…there will be others. If we want to do as much as possible to protect him, we need to know what allergies we are dealing with.
Luckily for us, we have a fantastic nurse practitioner. She happened to call us on the afternoon that Rebecca’s temperature spiked and we were in her office two hours later. While it was too late for Rebecca to take an antiviral medication, our nurse gave me a prescription of Tamiflu for Ryan just in case he got the flu as well. This was the back-up plan I was hoping for. Sure enough, two days later Ryan’s temperature hit 39.6 degrees Celsius. We filled the Tamiflu prescription, and Ryan’s temperature was back to normal a few hours after the first dose. His only symptom of the flu was a loose cough…incredible. We may have won this battle, but now I’m preparing for an even greater one – convincing Ryan to get tested again.

I Think We've Got 'It'

Well…I think we’ve got ‘it’. I have been obsessing about ‘it’ a lot lately. Perhaps ‘it’ was circling the area looking for someone to infect, when ‘it’ saw little old me. I was telling my friend about ‘it’ (again) and she got that glazed-over look in her eye and gave the dismissive “mmm” as she turned back to read her magazine. I think ‘it’ might have felt sorry for me and wanted to put me out of my misery. But instead of focusing on me, ‘it’ chose to infect my first born. Cruel…I know. 'It' chose me next, then Ryan, and then Sarah. I don’t know if 'it' is H1N1 or some other rogue virus, but I’d just like to get ‘it’ over with.

At least we’re all sick at the same time. I don’t have to pack any lunches this week and I don’t have to rush anyone out the door with threats. We can even sleep a little bit later in the morning. (Which is helpful because Ryan had 3 nosebleeds last night and I spent the remainder of the night with Sarah sprawled across my chest.)

While we were sitting around the house, doing nothing but being sick, I learned a few things today. The first being that daytime TV really is as terrible as everyone says. We watched about ten minutes of the Wiggles on Treehouse - a show I haven’t seen in a few years. I didn’t realize that the yellow Wiggle is a totally different guy now. It used to be a goofy guy named Greg, and now it’s a broadway-ish guy named Sam. Hmm…just goes to show that if a Wiggle can get the boot, there really is no such thing as job security.

Here’s the second thing I learned today- I have poor judgement when I’m sick. I’m ashamed to say that I let a six year old watch “A Christmas Story”. I started to regret this choice after Ryan watched that poor kid stick his tongue to the frozen flag pole. (I made Ryan promise he would never do the same – or convince anyone else to do it, either.) I felt more regret after Ralphie dropped the phony f-bomb. Ryan looked at me with wide-eyes and asked, “Was that the f-word?” Thankfully, Ryan doesn’t really know what the f-word is. And …I felt total regret when Ryan laughed uncontrollably at Ralphie beating up Scut Farkus. Maybe Ryan is watching too much hockey.

Even if we do have ‘it’, we seem to be getting a little better each day. By Monday, Ryan and Becca will be able to go back to school and we might be getting a decent amount of sleep at night. Even though Ryan couldn’t have the vaccine, and the rest of us couldn’t get the vaccine in time, I think we’re going to be just fine.

Vaccine Dilemma

It’s everywhere…you can’t pick up the newspaper or turn on the radio without being bombarded with news about H1N1. Even the internet is swimming with information about this nasty virus, which seems to be hitting young people particularly hard. Although this form of flu has already sickened thousands and killed close to one hundred people across the country, people are very suspicious of the H1N1 vaccine. I can understand people’s confusion – there is a lot of conflicting information out there.

I just finished reading a fantastic discussion called “H1N1 Myth Busters” on The Globe and Mail site (http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/health/h1n1-swine-flu/h1n1-myth-busters/article1340101/), where readers posed questions to Dr. Michael Gardam of the Ontario Agency of Health Protection and Promotion. He states that all credible data support the safety of the H1N1 vaccine. The only difference from the regular flu vaccine is the adjuvant, which helps your immune system give a better response. This adjuvant has been used by millions of people around the world. Dr. Gardam explains that the adjuvant is made of two natural fats: vitamin E and squalene, which is a compound that we produce in our bodies. So, it doesn’t seem like a big risk to me. One other aspect of vaccines that makes people nervous is the use of the preservative thimerosol. Some groups claim that thimerosol has been linked to autism – a claim that has never been upheld with prudent scientific process. Thimerosol contains a very small amount of mercury. Dr. Gardam reports that there is more mercury in a can of tuna than in a typical vaccine.

It’s a personal decision, but it seems like a no-brainer to me. The risk of taking the H1N1 vaccine for the average person is small compared to the risk of the virus itself. But we’ve got a dilemma to consider that some families don’t have to worry about. Since Ryan is allergic to eggs he has never had a flu shot before, as they are often cultured in eggs. So, we have to decide if it will be more dangerous to give Ryan the flu shot or leave him unprotected against this flu that may hit his asthmatic lungs very hard.

The way I see it, we’ve got one option - to take Ryan to a vaccine clinic for high risk individuals and ask if they can do a skin challenge before we give him the needle. I hope they won’t think I’m one of those crazy, pushy moms. I promise to be nice…

Mad Rush

Twenty years from now, I hope my children won’t remember what I was like between 8 and 9 a.m. This is the hour of the day when I morph into the maniac that is hell-bent on getting them ready for school – and getting them to school on time.

I’m in my fifth year of this mad rush – and we’re getting marginally better at it. I seem to be yelling a tiny bit less and we haven’t been late this year…yet. We put in an awful two years to get to this point, though. One morning in particular comes to mind. I had already put out Rebecca and Ryan’s clothes for the day, and Sarah was still asleep. I told the kids to get dressed while I ran upstairs for a shower. After twenty minutes I came downstairs to find that instead of getting dressed, the kids had gone into the basement and opened up a box of holiday stuff. This was apparent to me because Ryan was running around the house in his underwear and a pair of antennae-like shamrocks on his head. You know the kind…they’re attached to a head-band by springs and they bounce when you move around. I completely lost it, though it seems funny now. I can still remember how he looked when he saw me – he stopped running and was standing statue-still – except for the shamrocks bouncing up and down over his head.

To make matters worse, I was nagging at the kids so loudly that I didn’t hear a knock at the front door. As I was turning to give one of the kids the ‘hairy eyeball’ my gaze, instead, met the eyes of my neighbour, Sean. I think I might even have been pointing at him, too. I know…it was shameful to be giving threatening looks to my kids, and possibly even more embarrassing to get caught by another adult. It took me a few days before I could look Sean in the eye again.

According to my favourite parenting guru, Barbara Coloroso, nagging doesn’t work. Instead, I should let the kids feel the effects of the natural consequence of being late for school. I wonder what the principal does to kids that are consistently late. I’m sure he wouldn’t yell…and he’s probably above giving dirty looks, too. (Although I’m secretly curious how he gets his own kids to school on time.) Maybe someday I'll let him handle this little problem. But, that will have to wait until the day that I stop caring what everyone would think of ME if my kids are late for school…

Mother's Guilt

Every mother I know feels guilt at one time or another. We feel guilty for leaving our kids in other people’s care…even when going to work is not a choice, but a necessity. We feel guilty for not breastfeeding our babies…even if we tried everything we possibly could but that baby would just not latch on. We also feel guilty when our kids are sick…even if we did everything we could to keep them healthy.

At one time I felt extremely guilty about Ryan’s allergies – that I had somehow caused him to be allergic to our world. Was it because I was eating too many additives? Or maybe because we used the wrong kind of paint when we redecorated our kitchen? Should I have quit working night shifts when I was pregnant with him? Is he allergic to milk because the only food I craved was chocolate? Is he allergic to peanuts because I didn’t eat any peanuts throughout the pregnancy? If the allergies are my fault, then it’s also my fault that he suffered so much with eczema when he was a baby. And it will be my fault if he has a bad reaction…and it will be my fault if that reaction rips him away from us.

This is the guilt that held us back from trying for a third child. We were lucky to have one healthy girl…and we were finally getting a handle on all of Ryan’s medical concerns. At the beginning of our marriage we had dreamed of having three children, but I couldn’t imagine dealing with infantile eczema again – watching another baby suffer the way that Ryan did. So, we were gently closing the door on baby number three when fate stuck its foot in the door.

Rebecca was five, and just about to start Senior Kindergarten, when my husband accepted a job at a new company. We had six weeks to sell our house, buy a new one, and move to a town over three hours away where we had no friends and family. It was a stressful time…but we did it. And to add to the stress, a few weeks later we were surprised to find that I was pregnant.

After Sarah was born, I was paranoid that she would develop allergies. I was sure that every spot that formed on her skin would turn into eczema. I convinced myself that every runny poop meant that she would become allergic to milk. I was bracing myself for the guilt I would feel for having a second allergic child.

Sarah is now two years old and I’ve stopped obsessively looking for signs because she’s not allergic to anything yet. I am so grateful that Sarah came to us…not only because she’s a great kid…but because she lifted some of the guilt from my shoulders.

What Are We Supposed to Feed This Boy?

We had a fairly good idea that Ryan would develop food allergies from the time he was a few months old. So, we tried to follow all of “the rules”. He had only breast milk for the first six months and then we gradually introduced him to foods least likely to cause reactions…the same things most moms do when they are starting their babies on solid foods. And since I was breastfeeding, I even cut out peanuts out of my diet and reduced my dairy intake. I tried, but I couldn’t give up chocolate…I am only human!

When Ryan was about ten months old, I gave him a piece of the cheese that I was shredding for Rebecca. I’m not sure what I was thinking…it was just automatic. And I should say that it wasn’t a slice of cheese…it was a shred of cheese…a teensy little shred. After eating it he started to throw up….instantly. That totally freaked me out. Luckily, he didn’t get wheezy and there were no other symptoms of anaphylaxis, but I took that as a warning sign. As much as I would like to deny it, this boy was going to have severe allergies.

For the next couple of years we kept Ryan away from some of the common pediatric food allergens: milk, peanuts, soy, egg, wheat, and citrus. He ate meat, vegetables, some fruit, and arrowroot cookies – lots of arrowroot cookies. We eventually found substitutes for the foods that we enjoyed so that he could eat something similar. If we had pizza, we would make him meatballs and spaghetti. If Rebecca was having ice cream, Ryan could have gelato. If we were having birthday cake, Ryan would have a rice krispy square decorated with sprinkles. You have no idea how many birthday cakes I’ve ruined because I tried to follow recipes that were dairy and egg free. Ryan didn’t like them…and neither did the rest of us.

When Ryan was about to enter nursery school I talked to our doctor about getting Ryan tested so that we would know exactly what he was allergic to. So, when Ryan was almost three, we went to see an allergist. First, they did the skin test. Ryan sat on my knee facing me, so the nurse could poke his back six times with the lancet dipped in the pediatric allergens. The nurse left the room for a few minutes, and when she came back her reaction almost floored me. Her jaw dropped and she said, “What are you going to feed this kid?” Just the response I was looking for…great. They also did the RAST test, which is a blood test measuring the allergen-specific IgE antibody. Combined, these tests showed that Ryan was severely allergic to peanuts, milk, soy and egg. I was terrified…even though I had expected this, I was scared for what this would mean for Ryan – if we are not careful, his next bite might be his last.

Three years later, Ryan is thriving. We’ve had a few “accidents” with food, but his strongest reactions are vomiting…and that’s all. He carries his epi-pen with him wherever he goes, and at school he has a student volunteer that watches him at lunch in case he has a reaction when a teacher is not close by. I’d love to get him tested again, but he still remembers the skin test and blood work that he had to do last time. Maybe when he’s seven I can convince him to do it…just in the small hope that he might have outgrown one of his allergies. And if Ryan does outgrow his allergies he says the first thing he wants to eat is ice cream and chocolate…that’s my boy!!

Hard Work

It’s been almost three years since we moved to Owen Sound…three years since I quit my nursing job in Peterborough. It was an ideal job for me. I was a visiting nurse with a community agency that has a self-scheduling philosophy. We worked in small teams and could manage our own schedules and caseloads. I worked two evening shifts per week and then one weekend per month. It was a great way to keep my skills current, yet stay home with my children most of the time. I could work at my own pace; take my time and do treatments and procedures the way we were trained. No short cuts. I felt great at the end of my shifts.

I’ve been missing my job a lot this week. I miss the clients – how happy they were to see me and how grateful they were for my help. I miss the days that seemed to flow so smoothly that it really felt that I was on the right path. I miss the moments that I was in the right place at the right time. Like the day I had a feeling to see a certain client at the end of the day instead of in the morning. When I arrived, his wife was just beginning to have symptoms of a stroke. I also miss my managers – someone in my corner to tell me when I was doing a great job. Almost like cheerleaders. I sure wish stay-at-home moms had cheerleaders.

I miss my old job most when I’ve had a rough week with the kids. This was one of those weeks…and it seemed to drag on forever. Ryan developed a sore throat last Friday, so we were up more than normal for a few nights as his chest began to tighten up. Then Rebecca started to get sick on Sunday with a really runny nose and dry cough. And you would think that being housebound might mean the house would be tidier. Nope…it’s actually even worse than normal. To top it all off our computer stopped working this week. I hope we get it fixed soon…we’ll have a mutiny on our hands if the kids can’t feed their WebKinz.

Ahhh…but it’s finally Friday. Jason has the weekend off and we’ll be able to recover from our week from hell. I’ll be able to clean the house tomorrow with everyone’s help…hopefully with minimal nagging. And my little cheerleader, Sarah, has just tucked her dolls into bed – kissing them softly on the forehead and whispering “I love you”. Maybe I won’t go back to work after all…

Being Short

Ryan is small for his age – he’s at the very bottom of the boys’ normal growth curve. Being an allergic child may have a small part in that, but his genes probably play a greater role in his stature. You see, I’m only 4’ 10” tall – and almost every branch on our family tree is littered with small people. I never really thought it was a big deal – to be honest I sometimes forget that I’m short. That is until an average-sized ten-year-old stands beside me.

So, what bothers me about being short? It’s a royal pain having to get a stool to reach the second and third shelves in our kitchen cabinets…and trying to reach the upper shelves at the grocery store is impossible. If there’s nobody looking I take a page out of Amy Roloff’s book and climb up the shelves to reach what I need. (Amy is the mom on TLC’s Little People Big World – I love that show. That is until Rogers took away my free channels…damn you, Rogers!) I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ve adapted to being short. It’s not such a big deal for me anymore. Apparently, it’s a bigger deal for short men.

Last week I watched Howard Goldberg’s documentary: “S&M: Short and Male”. It was a fantastic, humorous look into how short men fare in our society – and it totally freaked me out! According to the experts featured in this doc, Ryan will have his work cut out for him. They claim that women are hard-wired to choose tall mates. He better stay cute, otherwise he’s going to have a hard time getting dates. He’s also going to have to work harder to earn a living…because a man’s annual income increases $1,000 per inch of height. Heck, even 99% of sperm banks in the US have a height requirement of 5’11”.

What made me really upset is that instead of being supportive of short boys, some parents are giving them potentially dangerous hormone injections and even going so far as having their legs broken and putting them in traction for 3 months so they can gain two inches of height. Is it really that important? Come on…

So, as Murphy’s Law would have it, my two daughters are going to be of average height like their dad…and Ryan will most likely be short like me. I don’t know who Murphy is…but I’d like to give him a swift kick!

Asthma

Ryan was born the week after Hallowe’en – which is one of my favourite holidays. When I was hugely pregnant with him, I dressed up as a pumpkin and I sure didn’t need to use the crinoline to look round. Another benefit of having a baby near Hallowe’en is that you have a ready-made birthday party theme. Hallowe’en parties are the best – and when you mix it with a birthday party you get presents! Awesome.

One drawback of having a baby in the fall, however, is that they will be developing right in the middle of cold and flu season.

When Ryan was born, my daughter Rebecca was two and had just started going to nursery school a few mornings a week. She thrived at ‘school’…along with every virus known to mankind. We were all sick a lot that fall, and caught a particularly nasty bug after Christmas. Ryan’s cold started out as a runny nose, but gradually his chest got wheezy and it didn’t get better with time. Luckily, we had already been bringing Ryan to a Nurse Practitioner. I called her in the morning, and within a few hours we were sitting in her office. She assessed Ryan and called a paediatrician who agreed to meet us at the emergency department before he started his rounds.

I still remember how the doctor looked when he said, “Ryan has eczema and asthma…in all likelihood he will develop food allergies as well. The writing is on the wall”. I wasn’t overly shocked…after Ryan had developed eczema I had been researching the subject like a fiend and understood that eczema, asthma, and food allergies were often linked as a “triple threat”. The paediatrician decided to admit Ryan for the night so they could stabilize his breathing. I barely held back the tears as I called my husband. Jason left work immediately so that he could look after Rebecca. In my heart, I knew Ryan would be fine…but just the thought that my baby was sick enough to require hospitalization felt awful. We were already dealing with his crazy skin condition, but now asthma. I didn’t even want to think about food allergies...

Through the night Ryan was treated with pediapred (a form of predisone used to treat children and infants with inflammation problems) and ventolin with the nebulizer. While I absolutely hated spending the whole night at the hospital, Ryan was a trooper. Even through his nebulizer treatments, he would look up at his nurse and smile at her. The water vapour made clouds around his little face and he sounded like Darth Vader behind the mask. Ryan responded well to the treatments and we went home the next morning with inhalers in hand.

At first Ryan hated taking the inhalers with his aerochamber mask. It must have felt terrible to him. He would hold his breath and try to wriggle away from the mask; even with my nursing background it felt wrong to be holding a foreign object so tightly over my baby’s face. With time we both became more comfortable with this new routine. Some days were easier than others. For a few days after Ryan was discharged from the hospital, we had to slowly wean him off the Pediapred. This medication came in the form of a horrible tasting liquid, and it was a true Battle Royale to get Ryan to take it. We had to restrain him so that we could get the syringe into his mouth, but he would scream and cry so much that he would eventually throw the medication up. At one point I just couldn’t take it any more. I started sobbing, handed the syringe to Jason and fled to another room. Listening to him choking and crying from the other room wasn’t easier. After 20 seconds I returned, grabbed the syringe back from Jason and said, “Let me do it!” Poor Jason…not only did he have to deal with a sick baby, but a nut-job of a wife as well.

There was only one other time that Ryan had to be admitted to the hospital. His asthma only flared up when he caught a cold, so as soon as his nose started to run we would ramp up his treatment to prevent an asthma attack. And though the Pediapred never became easier to administer, we did enjoy its benefits. Not only did it help to make his lungs more patent, but it made the eczema much more manageable – for a day or two, anyway.

Now if we could have just gotten some sleep...

Dirty Doula

I’m going to stray from the topic of allergies for a moment because we’ve been dealing with a delicate issue at my house for the last few weeks. It’s hard to talk about our dilemma in public because it’s something that most people like to keep private. So here goes…it’s about BM’s. And I don’t mean Big Macs or Brian Mulroney – I’m talking about poo.

My toddler Sarah has decided that she doesn’t like to poo. I’m not sure why, exactly, but she spends a lot of energy trying to hold it all in. Maybe she doesn’t like the physical feeling…or not having control over her own body. Or maybe it’s because she’s our last child and she senses that when she is toilet trained we are free and clear! At this point, I don’t really care why because I’m just plain sick of it.

It’s almost like Sarah has two distinct personalities. That’s right – I’m living with the Two Faces of Sarah: pre- and post-poop. While she’s holding in a BM she looks like the girl from The Exorcist. She drops onto the floor on her hands and knees, contorting her body in any way possible to slow that peristalsis down. Sarah doesn’t seem shy about this poop-stopping dance – she does it almost everywhere…on the floor beside the dining room table (where our dinner party guests are seated), at the top of the slide at the park, or even in the middle of the automotive aisle at Canadian Tire. It’s getting to the point that my oldest daughter, Rebecca, will say, “Mom…she’s doing it…AGAIN!!”

You can imagine that after a day of these performances, her body is really ready to get rid of this waste. So, when she finally has to give in and poo, it takes a lot of work. It’s similar to birth…Sarah gets red, sweaty and does a lot of grunting and yelling. That would make me the doula, because she chooses to do it all when she’s sitting on my lap. Not quite the pretty picture of motherhood that you see on the formula cans, is it?

Ah…but when the deed is finally done Sarah is herself again - dancing to Hannah Montana, playing hide-and-seek with her brother and sister, and singing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Tar”. I’m hoping in a few weeks this lovely stage will be over. For now, I’ll just add doula to my ever-growing lists of motherly duties.

Managing Eczema - What Worked for Ryan

All right…let’s get down to the nitty-gritty. When Ryan’s eczema was at its peak, this is what worked for us:

1. Wearing clothing that breathes well – it’s easy to find baby clothes that are 100% cotton. No polyester, fleece, or wool. My struggle was finding socks without polyester – Ryan’s ankles were always covered in eczema! Overheating can be a trigger for eczema – so don’t overdress your little rashy one.

2. Sunlight – Ryan’s eczema was always better in the summer because we made sure he had about 15 minutes exposure to the sun every day. He loved lying in the backyard on a blanket with just a diaper on.

3. Moisturize – We bathed Ryan once or twice daily in a warm (not too warm – it depletes the skin of moisture) bath. As soon as we took Ryan out of the tub I would pat his skin down gently with a towel and put a light moisturizer on immediately. This helps to seal the moisture from the bath into the skin. Ryan’s skin was so dry that he could sit in the tub for 15 minutes and not get wrinkly toes! Our favourite moisturizer was the Aveeno Baby unscented lotion. Sometimes we used just plain old olive oil to keep his skin moist, as well. Here’s the trick - if your moisturizer is too thick (or if you apply too much), it might not allow the skin to keep cool. I found that overheating was a major trigger for Ryan’s flare-ups.

4. Food Triggers – Finding food triggers can be hard. My paediatrician told me that I would probably never clear up Ryan’s eczema just by omitting certain foods from his diet. Here are the some common pediatric food allergens – nuts, milk, soy, egg, wheat and citrus. Since I was breastfeeding Ryan I avoided milk and nuts. Well – except for the odd Reese’s peanut butter cup…nobody’s perfect.

5. Laundry Tips – We used Tide Free – it’s unscented and dye-free. I also added ¼ cup of vinegar to the rinse cycle – someone suggested that it helped get rid of the extra detergent from the clothes. I have no idea if it helped…but it certainly didn’t hurt. For Ryan’s clothes we used no dryer sheets…shocking, literally.

6. Dust Mites – Some people’s skin can be sensitive to dust mites, so it’s a good idea to keep your baby’s room as clean as possible. This was my short-fall. How can you possibly keep the house immaculately clean if your baby is itchy and does not want to be put down!? We covered Ryan’s mattress with a plastic covering – I even duct-taped the zipper closed to make the cover air-tight. Vacuum regularly and keep your pets out of the baby’s room. Wash the baby’s bedding frequently in hot water.

7. Medication Regime – Set up a medication regime with your health care professional. This was our regime: A) When the skin was just dry and a little bit red we used a simple moisturizer. B) If the skin became cracked we used Fucidin (an antibiotic cream), and if this cracked area was exposed to dry, wintry weather we used a Vaseline-based antibiotic ointment as an extra barrier. C) When the skin became more ‘angry’ looking – red around the cracks and oozing just a bit we would use Fudicin – H (which had a small amount of hydrocortisone cream in it). I would use the hydrocortisone based creams for a max of 5 days – it causes thinning of the skin and is less effective if used for a prolonged period of time. We would also visit our nurse practitioner and paediatrician quite regularly. Sometimes you need a fresh set of eyes to assess the situation!

This is what helped for Ryan…luckily after he turned one his eczema became less of an issue. And that’s when the food allergies began…

Word of Advice...Don't Give Any!

People love babies – to the point that it’s hard to navigate a grocery store with a baby in your cart. Complete strangers will stop to admire and talk to little ones. It makes complete sense – we’re hard-wired to love them. Unfortunately, people also love to make comments and give advice…really stupid advice.

Now picture me walking through a grocery store with baby Ryan in my cart. The photos I posted of Ryan were on his good days – we didn’t take pictures of him on the bad days. Anyone peeking into Ryan’s infant carrier was surprised to see his face – which sadly looked like ground beef with eyes and a nose on some days.

We heard a lot of advice – I don’t really remember most of it. What I do remember, unfortunately, is the advice that had undertones of “you’re a terrible mother”. This was a good one: “You should bring that baby to a doctor!” Seriously… Not only were we on first name basis with our beloved paediatrician, we were also funding our pharmacist’s trip to Bermuda with all of the creams and ointments Ryan needed.

Here’s another question that I loved: “Did you roll your baby in poison ivy?” Oh yes…life with a toddler and a newborn is not nearly exciting enough. Let’s roll the baby in groundcover to spice things up a bit! Please…

I think the most interesting advice was this: “Have you tried rubbing pee on your baby’s skin?” Ummm….NO. Apparently, there used to be some urea-based creams that had some effect on eczema. Maybe it’s me, but it just sounds wrong to pee on a baby.

I hope I don’t sound too bitter. Please remember that I was hearing all of these comments under the haze of sleeplessness. This could also account for the fact that I remember these advice-givers as having crazy hair, red irises, and really sharp teeth. But, they were probably just regular folk trying to help.

Do you want to hear the comment that finally made me cry? One older man looked at Ryan and said, “Oh…you look familiar. My son had eczema like that when he was a baby. He’s fine now.” And for one split second I saw some light at the end of our tunnel.

The Itchy Infant

In a few months Ryan will turn six. I look at his baby pictures (and the few minutes of video footage we actually had time to tape) and find it hard to remember him being that small. That is, until the other day when I was walking down the street. I saw a woman carrying a baby (about 9 months old) who had socks on his hands and incredibly rashy cheeks. The moment that I saw him I was overcome with sadness for this poor little boy and remembered how hard it was to have a baby with infantile eczema.

Ryan’s skin was sensitive from the time he was a few weeks old. It started out as a terrible case of cradle cap. Out of the blue, it seemed, he looked like he was wearing a scabby hat that eventually covered his eyebrows and started to travel down his cheeks. When we finally got that under control, it was as if the rash popped up in different places – his cheeks became inflamed and he started to get a red, patchy rash on his chest and in the creases of his elbows. This is when the itch started. Poor Ryan – it breaks my heart to think about how it must have felt for such a little baby (about 4 months old) to be so uncomfortable all of the time. He would grab at his cheeks or try to rub them on his sheets so that they became even more inflamed. We had to put socks on his hands so that his face wouldn’t be covered in scratches. The creases behind his knees must have been itchy as well because when he was awake (which sadly for us, was most of the time) he would constantly be rubbing his foot behind the opposite knee. He looked like a little cricket trying like crazy to make a sound, his legs going a mile a minute.

At bedtime the itchiness seemed even harder for him to handle. When his eczema was at its peak he would wake up every 45 minutes. Fortunately for Ryan, breastfeeding helped to settle him…unfortunately for me breastfeeding was the ONLY thing that worked. We went for weeks with Ryan constantly waking up though the night – I was insanely tired. I don’t remember much from that time except that I cried…a lot. We were trying everything we could to help clear up the eczema but nothing seemed to work for long. I felt completely helpless. I was so stressed that I lost 20 pounds…I looked fantastic, but wouldn’t encourage anyone to follow that no-sleep weight loss plan.

During the day it was much easier to distract Ryan from his constant scratching. His older sister, Rebecca, was a never-ending source of entertainment. She was three when Ryan was most affected by eczema. Even though she adored her brother, she would often ask me to put him down so that I could play with her. Many people know how hard it is to care for a toddler and an infant at the same time…try to imagine caring for a toddler and an infant who needs to be held all of the time.

How we managed through this time, I will never know. I guess it was just love for this guy, and that despite his itchiness he still had a special twinkle in his eyes and an infectious smile on his little rashy face.

Introducing Ryan.

Ryan is a loveable kid. When he walks onto the school ground he constantly has kids giving him hugs and high-fives. His kindergarten teacher commented that he has a hard time getting his work done because everyone wants to talk to him. Ryan is very small for his age, has a great laugh and has crazy cowlicks that make his hair stick up in three different places. I like to tell people that everyone has an internal rhythm – and Ryan’s is Mach 3. He talks fast, eats fast, and can’t walk – he only runs. He’s a head shorter than everyone on his soccer team, but he’s right in the middle of the pack and won’t back down from any opponent.

It’s hard to believe that when he was five months old, he was rashy from head-to-toe and had to wear socks on his hands constantly. You see, Ryan is an “allergic child”. He has severe food allergies to milk, soy, eggs, and peanuts. He also has asthma, and is a survivor of infantile eczema. I’d say that our whole family survived Ryan’s infantile eczema! Ryan lives with his dad - Jason, his mom - Laura (that’s me), and two sisters – Rebecca and Sarah.

It seems that more and more children are dealing with allergies now. Our nurse practitioner has 2 babies on her caseload right now with severe eczema, and Ryan’s allergist in Peterborough claims that every week he diagnoses a new peanut allergy. When Ryan was a baby I felt so isolated and wished I had someone to talk to that was dealing with the same struggles. So if you know someone with an allergic child, let them know about this blog! Have a seat and let me tell you all about living with Ryan…with allergies.