Your Defining Moment

Can you pinpoint your defining moment?  I think a lot of people have this idea of what their defining moment will look like.  Or what it looked like.  But I think we all have one.  A moment that somehow changes the paths of our lives, permanently.  This defining moment can be good, it can be bad.  It can improve your life for the better, or even it could define your life for bad.  But it puts it's mark on you, and you can never look back.

I know my defining moment.  And I remember it clear as day.  My daughter was in daycare, and I had returned to work.  I had already begun to make her baby food, and I casually and excitedly informed her teacher that we were looking forward to the opening of the local farmers market in a couple of weeks.  And her teacher responded: You should check out this farmers market, my husband sells what he grows there.

Doesn't sound life altering...  does it?  It was.  This simple give and take.  This simple conversation between two people permanently changed my life.  I suppose it's something like, nature vs nurture.  And while I believe we can be predisposed to something, I find that the people around you make a far greater impact than our society grants credit towards.

This simple act, of asking me to attend a different farmers market, altered my families path for ever.  It introduced me to a much smaller market, with people who grew to know my family, who talked to me weekly.  It introduced me to people who owned farms, and had not only produce, but who could get me access to bulk locally raised beef and pork.  It changed where I got my eggs, and it opened me up to conversations about milk. It in other ways made me far more hyper aware of my food and my surroundings.

I am grateful for those people in my life.  Who have opened my eyes to a world I was fully prepared to go down, but a road that I may not have traveled without those around me.  This moment in my life, I am sure, prepared me for our family's current journey.  I already have the resources at hand to fulfill my daughters dietary needs.  I have a full network of people who not only support me, my family, my daughter, my diet, but believe in it.  Not simply because of my expanding knowledge and because of sharing this information, but because they were already firm believers that the less processing is better us.

What's your defining moment?  Are you proud of it? As long as we are still on this great earth, there is still time to have the ah ha moment, and make changes if you are not.

Have we Redefined Normal?

Prior to Sunday, June 30th, 2013, if you had asked me if my child had major behavioral issues, I would have flat out told you no.  I would have said I had a strong willed red headed Italian.  In fact, I used to joke that I had the trifecta of toddler hood, a toddler, a redhead, and an Italian.  I had fleeting moments where I just looked at her and felt like there was something that just wasn't right.  But I brushed it off, I had many other mommy friends and had seen similar challenging behavior.  I had confided in other parents, and found similar experiences.  As far as my eye could see, she was normal as compared to her peers.

But on Sunday, June 30th, of 2013, I didn't CARE what was 'normal'.  I said: "NO MORE!"

I've had a number of parents tell me 3 is SOOOOOO much worse than 2.  And I would have agreed completely.  But did you ever ask yourself why?  Well I've come to a conclusion, it isn't.  It only seems like it's the new 2.  Because it IS worse than 3.  But the age 2, hasn't changed much over the generations.  So what has changed?  In my humble opinion, in a two words, our food.  Children don't eat very much food their first year, and even into their second year.  As a parent I think you are hyper actively aware of what your child is consuming.  Carefully introducing things.  Worrying if it's enough vegetables, not enough protein, too much sugar.  But as they approach and pass 3, you start to relax.  You begin to accept that you can't control everything, and that the occasional snack or treat isn't the end all, be all.  You make the best choices that you can, and then hope for the best.

But it's that shift, that shift at age 3, that begins the behavioral degradation.  It's the food that makes 3 so much worse than 2.  And by 4, several things happen, they begin to mature, and the behavior shifts a bit, you get numb to it, or they just get a bit better at controlling themselves.

But what if this social acceptance of age appropriate behavior is not accurate at all.  What if our parents, and their parents who are walking around saying:  "I just don't understand, I wasn't like this as a child, you weren't like this as a child, we wouldn't tolerate this from children."  What if they are right.  What if we have redefined normal.  I could make a list a mile long of the individual acceptances that we should work on as a society, but behavior changes as a result of additives being unknowingly introduced to our bodies, is NOT one of them.

Take a look around at the "they're just being boys", "They're just being kids", and start to dwell more on the "where did this come from? it didn't used to be like this." and the "where is society going wrong, we didn't have these issues 50 years ago."  There are many things that people are very quick to blame.  But it seems like as a society we are accepting of the deception that is being placed on the foods going into our mouths.  I'm not against treats, I'm not against, candy, I'm not against the conveniences of today, or needing shortcuts in our fast passed society.  I am against things that are changing my childs behavior so drastically that if seen by a doctor she would be diagnosed with ADD or ADHD and put on medication.  And even worse, I am against a society we live in that if you care enough to read your labels, you STILL can't be sure of what you're putting into your child.

So is it normal?  Is this redefinition good?  I don't think so, and I don't think it's normal.  And I think accepting it as such is doing not only our children but the future of our children's children a major disservice.

Best Daycare Ever

  

I have the best daycare ever.  No, seriously.  I do.  Managing what my daughter consumes while we are together is generally easy.  I control what comes into the house, and I am the only person who has to deal with any meltdowns over not allowing inappropriate items.  Figuring out how to manage her diet when she is outside of our home, is I’m sure where every parent begins to worry.  I am a full time working outside of the home mom.  I also have another child, 8 months old.  Effective the beginning of August, both my children are in daycare 5 days a week, from about 6:45 AM until between 4:45 and 5:45 PM.  They are in the exclusive care of someone else, for the majority of their waking hours.  And I absolutely must rely on them to help me in my mission.  

The daycare that we attend provides just about everything you could need.  Food, diapers, wipes, snacks, lunches, pull-ups.  I bring the kid, and for the baby I bring the bottles, and that’s about it.  But since we started down this path, the facility provided food has been a major obstacle.  A) Are they ‘safe’ for my daughter to consume, without regressing to our 2.5 hours bedtimes?  B) I pay good money to have all of these things included in our tuition, for many reasons, but not the least of which is to eliminate something ELSE I have to do when I get home from work in preparation for the next day. 

As we test just how much ‘non approved’ foods she can tolerate, and where I can take advantage of these benefits, and when I need to make alternative arrangements, I’ve been providing a lot of her food.  I’ve sent in approved snacks (that is easy to do once a week).  And on the days where the lunch is particularly questionable, I send in her lunch.  But that is just the daily obstacles.  As any parent with a child knows, that HARD days, are the ‘special’ days.  The day that another child’s parent brings in something for their child’s birthday, for example.  Or like the situation I encountered today, the center does something ‘special’ to celebrate the summer.

Today, at school, they brought in a Kona Ice truck.  What is a Kona Ice Truck?  It’s a traveling Italian Ice truck.  I didn’t know until I googled it myself.  2 months ago I would have been excited for the treat, and thought it a wonderful idea.  This month, I cringe.  A) Artificial colors.  B) Artifical Flavours.  C) Don’t get me started about the sugar.  

So after learning (about a month ago) about this event, I set out on my mission to ‘deal’ with this.  I actually found a company that would provide approved snow cone syrup.  So I shelled out $16+ Shipping so that my daughter could be ‘normal’ with the rest of the kids.  I spent yesterday looking to see if the order had shipped, and then I spent last night panicking because I realized TODAY was the Kona Truck visit.  And since the syrup hadn’t even shipped, there was NO way it would be here for TODAY.  So, in desperation I took an approved pear juice box, and shoved it in her lunch box.  There.  I thought.  She can dump that on her ice.  Satisfied with my diversion, I went to bed.  And this morning, my husband brought the kids to daycare.

Dutifully this morning, I e-mailed the center when I had a moment to let them know my plan.  And to EVERYONE’s HORROR… was faced with the response of:  “She saw it during breakfast, and already drank it.”

Let me stop for a moment and interject.  THIS is not the fault of my daycare.  THIS is the fault of severe miscommunication (apparently) between my husband and myself.  And the poor teacher that opened didn’t even have a chance, since she hadn’t been a) warned it was in there, and b) been told it was for the Kona Ice.

At any rate, with 45 minutes until the Kona Ice truck was to arrive.  I received an e-mail from the director of the center (the names have been changed to protect my angels):

“Carol went garbage digging and Karen is en route to Basil Bandwagon (store).  See what you miss when you leave your desk!”

They were replacing my consumed pear juice box.  I sat at my desk and let a couple tears form in my eyes.  I had always known I had the support of the daycare, but this going above and beyond what I ever imagined to show their support of what I was doing, was just more than I could comprehend emotionally.  So like I said.  I have THE.  BEST.  DAYCARE.  EVER.

And tonight, I can talk to my daughter about the exciting visit from the Kona Truck, and continue to enjoy my daughter, instead of cry because I lost her over an Italian Ice.

To my daycare.  Thank you.  A thousand thank you’s would NEVER be enough to repay what you have just given our family.

The Terrible Three's

I've had this blog post in my head for days now.  And just now have had time to put pen to paper, or finger to keyboard as the case in today's society is.  Have you ever talked to a parent, and been told, or heard them say, three's is so much worse than two's?  I had.  I didn't understand it.  Then my daughter turned three.  And the terrible three's reared their ugly head.  As our family has been sailing along on this journey though, I've been struck, the healthy alter ego my daughter exhibits by eliminating these things, three's isn't so bad.  I know, I know.  She's almost 4.  But I can only imagine what the past year would have been like, had we changed her diet earlier.

And this leads me to the real bulk of my thoughts over the past few days.  What about the other parents who told me about the terrible three's?  Maybe the reason three is the new two, is because now, as our children pass toddlerhood, we loosen our grasp of control, and start to allow them 'treats', more flexibility in food choices, and really, the introduction of 'junk' foods.  Maybe the reason three is, the new two, has nothing to do with a change in humans at all, and really has to do with what is going into our bodies.

Everyone around me has shown absolute unconditional support.  And without this support I am not sure how I would have made it through the past month, or the past few years for that matter.  But I don't want support.  I want change.  Not just for my family, but for the children of America.  Where will our country be in 15 - 30 years, when the children of today are in places of power and leadership.  Is the Ritalin generation of today going to be able to lead our country into the next phase?  Will we have the most powerful leaders of the world?  Will we have scientists, and lawyers, doctors, and politicians, Nobel prize winners, and religious leaders?  Presumably the answer is yes, children of today don't lack dreams.  But what if the society that is raising them today is ignoring the impact on their potential?

If changing what you were putting into your child, would entirely alter the ability they have to achieve their innate awesome abilities, would you sit back and say: "Wow, that's interesting and amazing."  Or would you stand up and shout at the top of your lungs:  "NO MORE!".  In a society where we are involved at sickening degrees with the lives of our socialites, where there is no legal proceeding that is exempt from public opinion and outcry.  How on earth is it possible, that we are silenced with the future of the most important thing in our lives.  Any parent will tell you.  Their children, are their EVERYTHING.

I know my story is interesting, I know my changes are extreme.  I know the conversation is hard.  And food conglomerates are mighty.  I know the length and time and work involved to overcome these things.  But don't just find my story amazing.  Look at your child.  Look at the things you have accepted as normal.  As behavioral intricacies, or personality quirks.  Things you've spent days, weeks, months, years, accepting as who they fundamentally are.  And ask yourself.  What if they weren't?  What if that is NOT who they fundamentally ARE?  What if the foods bought with your hard earned money, are creating these things, NOT your child?  What if these things are the sign of a bigger problem?  What if you changed your child's diet?  What if simply removing entirely inappropriate things, or even things that seem appropriate but are impacting their entire being?  What kind of world would we live in then?  What kind of world could they lead for our grandchildren?

As I become increasingly emotional about the child I realize I never knew, and in love with the child I realize I have, because of no medical change at all, simply removing things that were fighting with her natural abilities, I am heartbroken.  Make no mistake.  It is not for myself, or my daughter, or my family.  Because for us, I am over joyed.  I am heartbroken for all of the other children.  Because the food is still being bought, and made, and served to children.  I am heartbroken for the children who could be the next Nobel Laureate, but may never even have a chance, because their head is so scrambled, and their parents are so accepting.  Let's not accept that this is ok, or normal.  Please, share my story, please look at your own children.  While I believe we should accept who our children are, and absolutely accept their limitations, what I have seen makes me sick to imagine what we are accepting as truth which is really just chemical warfare on our children's bodies.  Find out who our children really are, so they can soar to heights even beyond what we can begin to imagine.

What was it like for her?

Most of my posts have been about my own observations, research, and experiences.  However, there is another person involved in this situation.  My daughter.  She is about 3.75 years old.  And more heartbreaking than realizing how dreaded I had become towards her, has been realizing what it must be like, have been like, to be inside of her, and young enough that you can't articulate the problem.

The first time I began to question what it is like for her, was when she tried to ask for Jelly Beans.  We had a reasonable conversation about why we couldn't have it.  She wasn't out of control over the issue either.  She was handling it pretty well.  Until she tossed herself (not in a fit, more in a careless 3.75 yo way), onto the couch and said:  "They don't make me nervous anymore."  My literal response was: "Did they used to make you nervous?"

Some people speculated that she was repeating things that she had heard my husband and I talk about.  But I assure you, at no point, had we used the word nervous.  From our perspective, nervous she never was, hyper, out of control, anxious, maybe.  But not nervous.

Since then we've crossed paths with bad foods many times, and stolen from another Feingold parent has been the phrase:  "Bad Mood Food".  I felt silly at first.  But it rolls off the tongue better with time, and she seems more accepting when she understand the opposition is not to the food itself, but to the behavior that it elicits.  I now have a growing pantry of foods, and special treats that I will gladly trade for ANY of the bad mood foods.  IE ->  Don't eat that PEACH...  here, have chocolate pudding instead!!!!  Yea, not something I would have EVER told you I would utter a month ago.

But what has left my eyes wide, are not the number of times I've told her a food is bad mood food but the other things I've heard.  Like after her bad reaction to peaches, I overheard her in the kitchen, where she found the bowl of forbidden fruit, and was uttering her own particularly funny comments:  "I love you peaches, peaches mmmm you're sooooo gooooooood".  A 3.75 yo love affair with peaches.  But she didn't eat them.

Or when we show up places with snacks/food in tow and she proudly tells people she has HER food, it's SPECIAL food.

But even more, was when I heard her say:  "I have my own food, it doesn't make me CRAAZZZYYYY *rolling her eyes around in her head*"

And then I had the saddest conversation.  As we passed a Dunkin' Donuts.  Which had long been a treat she and I partook together particularly on Saturday Mornings.  Her favorite, a donut, with pink frosting, and sprinkles.

Daughter: I want a Donut
Me:  No more donuts, they aren't good for us.  They aren't good for Mommy, and they aren't good for you.  They are Bad Mood Foods.
Daughter: No they aren't, they make me HAPPPYYYY *making funny faces of love towards the ceiling of the car*
Me:  You miss donuts?
Daughter:  Yes.
Me:  Maybe some weekend this fall we can talk to Daddy and we can make donuts at home from scratch.  Would you like that?
Daughter:  Yes, and then they wouldn't make me CCRRRAAAZZZYYYYY *rolling her eyes around in her head*  Just happy.  Donuts, mmmm, they would be pink, and they would make me happy.

Tears built up in my eyes.  She's 3.75 years old.  For her to know all of these things, how must it have felt inside of her.