Two weekends ago, I was dirty, sunburned, covered in eau de bug spray that only marginally worked, bathed in wood smoke, blinking ash out of my eyes, and engaged in competitive mosquito-slapping.
It was great! I was, of course, camping.
It was our second annual camping trip with a group of close friends – five families, for a total of ten kids and ten grown-ups. The kids range in age from 4 to almost 11, and they’ve all grown up together, so they’re a noisy, close-knit bunch that play at full-tilt from the time they rise until they begin to drop off around the campfire as the moon gleams and the parents laugh at old stories.
We spent two nights by a picturesque lake under towering pines on the north slope of the Uintas. The days were blue-sky gorgeous, and the nights were star-spangled and frosty cold. Camping in Utah is a joy, made better when you can split the cooking duties with other people.
We arrived Friday afternoon and left Sunday mid-day, so that meant we had five meals to deal with. After some complex mathematical calculations during our planning, we discovered that five meals divided by five families equals… let’s see, one meal per family, right? Yep. We’re purty smart.
So each family planned and prepared a single meal for the whole gang of twenty, and it made everyone’s weekend that much easier.
Because we have two allergic kids in the bunch, we make sure all meals and snacks are safe for them. The last thing we want is a life-threatening food reaction when we’re hours from the nearest hospital, so we simply ban all of their allergens from the entire campsite. All food the five families bring is free of milk, eggs, nuts, peanuts, and seafood.
Too restrictive? Not hardly. We ate like royalty!
Friday night was Susan’s fantastic kalua pork, rice, and salad, followed by a cherry chocolate birthday cake that was sinfully good.
Saturday morning was Necia’s fruit and cinnamon rolls on a stick, grilled over the open fire, along with bacon and breakfast cookies. When is breakfast ever that fun?
Lunch was a feast of Lorie’s delectable chicken salad and a smorgasbord of sandwich fixins on a variety of breads and tortillas.
For supper, Kim’s hobo dinners of beef, potatoes, green beans, and carrots all roasted in foil pouches over the campfire were delicious and really hit the spot after a hard day of fishing and Frisbee. And the roasted corn-on-the-cob was a first-of-the-season treat. Garlic bread was the finishing touch.
Sunday’s breakfast was my assignment, so I brought a variety of muffins – blueberry, chocolate chip, banana, and carrot cake – which I’d baked a few days earlier and frozen so they’d survive the trip. I also provided apple slices with Sunbutter for dipping.
All of those meals were completely free of milk, eggs, nuts, and seafood, but anyone who might have joined us would have never guessed. It was all delicious and nutritious, and there was plenty of it!
This group of friends has been close for seven or eight years now, so we’ve had a long time to get used to dealing with allergies and a long time to find delicious recipes. Each time we get together, it becomes a game for us moms to try out new concoctions. It’s fun, and nine times out of ten, it’s successful. (My chocolate chip muffins were a little too dense, but my carrot cake was a hit!)
Having food allergies hasn’t meant giving up on parties and get-togethers. It has meant we’ve come to appreciate this circle of friends (and more) who accept food allergies as a normal part of life, and who are infinitely willing to change their own cooking and eating habits for us. That is TRUE friendship.
We’re already planning next year’s camping trip, and I’m already coming up with some new muffin recipes to try. It’s the least I can do to thank these wonderful friends.
Showing posts with label best friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label best friends. Show all posts
Monday, July 21, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Friendly Faces in the Food Fight
Last week, we had our April meeting of the Davis County chapter of UFAN. It was great – six new members joined us!
The most amazing transformation takes place at meetings like this. Often, when we first arrive, we come feeling like we’re the only ones dealing with food allergies. We’ve had a rough week, perhaps. Maybe we’ve had a conflict with an in-law, a teacher, a stranger, or a neighbor. We’ve dealt with a reaction. We’ve had to explain for the umpteenth time why our kid can’t have a piece of that birthday cake, and no, we’re not just overly protective. We’ve read approximately eighteen thousand labels, give or take a million, and we’ve heard another scary story about finding food allergens in unexpected places. (“What do you mean, my new exfoliating soap uses almond shells as the abrasive grit?!”) We’ve tried to explain to yet another 16-year-old waiter that there can be absolutely no cross-contamination with nuts in our kid’s meal.
We’re tired of feeling like Don Quixote tilting at windmills all day long. Talk about feeling isolated.
Then we walk into a meeting like a UFAN chapter meeting, or we run into another mom at a soccer game whose kid is allergic, or we stumble across another parent’s blog, and suddenly we connect! There’s someone else who’s dealing with this! There is someone else to nod and say, “Yeah, don’t you hate that.” Someone else who says, “Sure, I’ve got a great birthday cake recipe.” Someone else who suggests, “Have you tried telling your neighbors this?”
We all need a friendly shoulder sometimes. I’m blessed with many good, dear, wonderful friends who’ve been with me for years and are as committed to keeping my son safe as I am. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have tough days when that brick wall has left a really big imprint on my forehead. So a friendly face is always a welcome relief.
I’m so glad we have our Davis County chapter meetings, where we know we can see a bunch of friendly faces every month. At our meeting this month, we shared our own stories and struggles, as well as our successes and ideas. We learned, and commiserated, and cheered each other on. We even compiled a list of local restaurants where we’ve had some good experiences ordering food that accommodates our allergies (which I will give to Kay to post on our UFAN website)! I left the meeting re-energized and ready to fight the weekly battles again. Thank you to everyone who came!
Bring on those windmills!
The most amazing transformation takes place at meetings like this. Often, when we first arrive, we come feeling like we’re the only ones dealing with food allergies. We’ve had a rough week, perhaps. Maybe we’ve had a conflict with an in-law, a teacher, a stranger, or a neighbor. We’ve dealt with a reaction. We’ve had to explain for the umpteenth time why our kid can’t have a piece of that birthday cake, and no, we’re not just overly protective. We’ve read approximately eighteen thousand labels, give or take a million, and we’ve heard another scary story about finding food allergens in unexpected places. (“What do you mean, my new exfoliating soap uses almond shells as the abrasive grit?!”) We’ve tried to explain to yet another 16-year-old waiter that there can be absolutely no cross-contamination with nuts in our kid’s meal.
We’re tired of feeling like Don Quixote tilting at windmills all day long. Talk about feeling isolated.
Then we walk into a meeting like a UFAN chapter meeting, or we run into another mom at a soccer game whose kid is allergic, or we stumble across another parent’s blog, and suddenly we connect! There’s someone else who’s dealing with this! There is someone else to nod and say, “Yeah, don’t you hate that.” Someone else who says, “Sure, I’ve got a great birthday cake recipe.” Someone else who suggests, “Have you tried telling your neighbors this?”
We all need a friendly shoulder sometimes. I’m blessed with many good, dear, wonderful friends who’ve been with me for years and are as committed to keeping my son safe as I am. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have tough days when that brick wall has left a really big imprint on my forehead. So a friendly face is always a welcome relief.
I’m so glad we have our Davis County chapter meetings, where we know we can see a bunch of friendly faces every month. At our meeting this month, we shared our own stories and struggles, as well as our successes and ideas. We learned, and commiserated, and cheered each other on. We even compiled a list of local restaurants where we’ve had some good experiences ordering food that accommodates our allergies (which I will give to Kay to post on our UFAN website)! I left the meeting re-energized and ready to fight the weekly battles again. Thank you to everyone who came!
Bring on those windmills!
Monday, January 7, 2008
Warming Up January Days
You know the saying:
Thirty days have September,
April, June, and November.
All the rest have 31,
Except for January and February…
Which have 80.
Ah, winter. January is only a week old, and yet it feels like it’s been here for ages. How can a winter day drag on forever, but still be so short it’s dark before you get anything done? Just my luck. I’m always wishing for longer days, 8-day weeks, and 6-week months, but I’d prefer them to be of the warmer, brighter variety.
Oh well. Beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose. (Although I’m going to work on making my begging more specific.)
Still, it’s nice to get a new year underway, even if it does have the poor graces to begin with January.
We began our new year by going to a New Year’s Eve party at a dear friend’s house. Because we all take our kids, we celebrate the new year on New York City time, set off firecrackers in the snow at 10:00 pm, and go home to drop into bed. We’re such party animals.
Anyway, the party was a “dessert party,” so each family brought a sweet treat to snack on while we waited for the ball to drop (or the kids to explode, whichever came first). This was mostly a different group of friends than those who had the Christmas party in December, but the same two kids with food allergies were invited (my son and his best friend). So for the 24 hours before the party, I received phone calls asking, “Can I read you the ingredients label on this? I want to make sure what I’m bringing is safe.”
Again, I am overwhelmed by the generosity, caring, and consideration of friends. They don’t grumble. They don’t make a big issue out of it. They don’t ignore the allergies and bring a nut roll anyway. They thumb through recipes, ask about substitutions, and try out new combinations. They view it as a chance to experiment, rather than a cramp in their style. They can’t even imagine having a party where the two boys would be at risk. To them, it seems to be just a tangible way for them to express their friendship with us.
Now that I think about it, with friends like that, even January days seem warmer.
Thirty days have September,
April, June, and November.
All the rest have 31,
Except for January and February…
Which have 80.
Ah, winter. January is only a week old, and yet it feels like it’s been here for ages. How can a winter day drag on forever, but still be so short it’s dark before you get anything done? Just my luck. I’m always wishing for longer days, 8-day weeks, and 6-week months, but I’d prefer them to be of the warmer, brighter variety.
Oh well. Beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose. (Although I’m going to work on making my begging more specific.)
Still, it’s nice to get a new year underway, even if it does have the poor graces to begin with January.
We began our new year by going to a New Year’s Eve party at a dear friend’s house. Because we all take our kids, we celebrate the new year on New York City time, set off firecrackers in the snow at 10:00 pm, and go home to drop into bed. We’re such party animals.
Anyway, the party was a “dessert party,” so each family brought a sweet treat to snack on while we waited for the ball to drop (or the kids to explode, whichever came first). This was mostly a different group of friends than those who had the Christmas party in December, but the same two kids with food allergies were invited (my son and his best friend). So for the 24 hours before the party, I received phone calls asking, “Can I read you the ingredients label on this? I want to make sure what I’m bringing is safe.”
Again, I am overwhelmed by the generosity, caring, and consideration of friends. They don’t grumble. They don’t make a big issue out of it. They don’t ignore the allergies and bring a nut roll anyway. They thumb through recipes, ask about substitutions, and try out new combinations. They view it as a chance to experiment, rather than a cramp in their style. They can’t even imagine having a party where the two boys would be at risk. To them, it seems to be just a tangible way for them to express their friendship with us.
Now that I think about it, with friends like that, even January days seem warmer.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Soups That Warm the Heart
Friday night we got together with some friends for an annual soup pot-luck holiday party. For the five families involved, getting together for a holiday party has been a tradition for many years. The soup part of the tradition is a more recent development, but it’s turned into a great idea.
There’s nothing like a cold, snowy night (which Friday was) to make the thought of five steaming crock-pots full of hot, delicious soups and stews all the more enticing.
In this group of friends we have to accommodate two kids with allergies (nuts, peanuts, milk, egg, seafood), one family that prefers vegetarianism (although they do make exceptions), at least a couple of husbands who thrive on red meat, and one diabetic (me). Sounds complicated. But as the years go on, it becomes easier and easier to roll them all into your recipe criteria.
At Friday’s party, I think we may have had the best soups to date! There was a delicious taco soup, a bean chili, a peasant-style minestrone chock full of veggies, and a steak-and-potato soup. I made a Rustic White Bean Soup made of navy beans, turkey sausage, broth, and spinach (from Diabetic Dinners in a Dash by Art Ginsberg – you mash half the navy beans, which gives the soup a creamier texture without the cream). Everything was wonderful, and everyone tried at least a small serving of each soup (some more than once). We added some dinner rolls that were milk- and egg-free, a punch for the kids made of equal parts of Cran-apple juice and ginger ale, Lorie's fabulous milk- and egg-free chocolate cupcakes, and voila! We even got the kids to stop racing around the house long enough to eat. It was that good.
Accommodating allergies (and other dietary restrictions) is extremely challenging in the beginning. We all know that. But over time, you find friends and family members who are willing to explore new options because they care enough about you to make the effort. Between you, you begin to experiment and discover new recipes, good substitutions, and new ways to prepare old favorites that make them safe. Then one day you look around and realize you’ve got a safe environment for your child where before you saw only a minefield of potential disasters.
Our annual holiday get-together is a safe environment where our kids know they are welcome, they can play freely, and they can eat whatever is on the table. It just doesn’t get much better than that.
There’s nothing like a cold, snowy night (which Friday was) to make the thought of five steaming crock-pots full of hot, delicious soups and stews all the more enticing.
In this group of friends we have to accommodate two kids with allergies (nuts, peanuts, milk, egg, seafood), one family that prefers vegetarianism (although they do make exceptions), at least a couple of husbands who thrive on red meat, and one diabetic (me). Sounds complicated. But as the years go on, it becomes easier and easier to roll them all into your recipe criteria.
At Friday’s party, I think we may have had the best soups to date! There was a delicious taco soup, a bean chili, a peasant-style minestrone chock full of veggies, and a steak-and-potato soup. I made a Rustic White Bean Soup made of navy beans, turkey sausage, broth, and spinach (from Diabetic Dinners in a Dash by Art Ginsberg – you mash half the navy beans, which gives the soup a creamier texture without the cream). Everything was wonderful, and everyone tried at least a small serving of each soup (some more than once). We added some dinner rolls that were milk- and egg-free, a punch for the kids made of equal parts of Cran-apple juice and ginger ale, Lorie's fabulous milk- and egg-free chocolate cupcakes, and voila! We even got the kids to stop racing around the house long enough to eat. It was that good.
Accommodating allergies (and other dietary restrictions) is extremely challenging in the beginning. We all know that. But over time, you find friends and family members who are willing to explore new options because they care enough about you to make the effort. Between you, you begin to experiment and discover new recipes, good substitutions, and new ways to prepare old favorites that make them safe. Then one day you look around and realize you’ve got a safe environment for your child where before you saw only a minefield of potential disasters.
Our annual holiday get-together is a safe environment where our kids know they are welcome, they can play freely, and they can eat whatever is on the table. It just doesn’t get much better than that.
Monday, August 27, 2007
K.D., Food Allergy Warrior Princess
Much to my son’s surprise, he survived his first week of third grade. What’s more, he didn’t get sent to the principal’s office! I was relieved.
The first day had an interesting element to it, however. My son’s best friend is also food-allergic (to milk, eggs, nuts, and seafood), and they are in the same classroom. This is fortunate, because the friend’s mom, Kim, is also one of my best friends, and this means we can share all the classroom food issues that come up.
The first issue came up surprisingly fast.
After lunch, all the kids started coming back into the classroom before the teacher returned. One girl brought in her little carton of milk from lunch. Now, the school policy is that no food leaves the cafeteria. This is partly for food allergies, but also (perhaps mostly) to keep the carpets clean.
There’s another girl in the class, K.D., who has been a best buddy of my son and the other allergic boy since they were all about 18 months old. She’s grown up understanding food allergies nearly as well as either of the boys, and the three of them have been through thick and thin together. She and my son have always acted like siblings – they are both strong-willed, opinionated, determined to be the leader, and unwilling to back down. In other words, brother and sister in all but blood, and they’ve weathered the fights to prove it (and the teacher has already told them they can’t sit together anymore). But despite that, each of the three of them will defend the other to the death, if need be, and woe be to the person who tries to lay a finger on any of the Three Musketeers.
Guess what happened when the unsuspecting student brought the milk into the classroom. As both boys were apparently looking worried and trying to figure out what to do, their female champion tackled the problem headlong. She began chewing out the hapless milk-girl, telling her she couldn’t have milk in the classroom, demanding that she remove it and go wash her hands, and telling her the damage she could cause the stunned boys. The other girl tried to argue, but she was up against a master.
By the time the teacher returned, it was all over, and none of the kids even thought to tell her about it.
After school, Kim noticed a tell-tale itchy spot near her son’s eye, and the boys reluctantly told us about the confrontation. Kim and I asked both boys what they did while their BFF defended them. They admitted they didn’t do anything. In fact, it was clear they were both intimidated. “Why didn’t you do something?” we both asked, aghast. What had happened to all our counseling about standing up for themselves and letting an adult know when there was a dangerous situation? My son has never been one to back down from a confrontation, and certainly he’s never been shy about informing people of his allergies.
“It was girl talk… a girl argument,” he said, as if that explained it all. “I was staying out of that.” His friend agreed. It was obvious that both boys thought Kim and I were nuts if we expected them to get in between two girls having an argument. Besides, they knew their friend had the situation in hand, and if they tried to jump in, they’d just get hit by nasty female crossfire.
I know adult men who haven’t figured out that lesson yet – proof that our boys are above average in the smarts department, if you ask me.
After Kim and I sputtered maternally for a few minutes about how they need to be responsible for themselves and they can’t rely on their friend to handle every situation, we backed off. After all, an amazing thing had happened that day. Kim and I realized that we aren’t our sons’ only protectors. There are other people in this world who care about them enough to protect them.
They’re called friends.
And even if they’re only 8 years old, they make a huge difference in our lives. And we can’t thank them enough.
Thank you, K.D. We love you.
The first day had an interesting element to it, however. My son’s best friend is also food-allergic (to milk, eggs, nuts, and seafood), and they are in the same classroom. This is fortunate, because the friend’s mom, Kim, is also one of my best friends, and this means we can share all the classroom food issues that come up.
The first issue came up surprisingly fast.
After lunch, all the kids started coming back into the classroom before the teacher returned. One girl brought in her little carton of milk from lunch. Now, the school policy is that no food leaves the cafeteria. This is partly for food allergies, but also (perhaps mostly) to keep the carpets clean.
There’s another girl in the class, K.D., who has been a best buddy of my son and the other allergic boy since they were all about 18 months old. She’s grown up understanding food allergies nearly as well as either of the boys, and the three of them have been through thick and thin together. She and my son have always acted like siblings – they are both strong-willed, opinionated, determined to be the leader, and unwilling to back down. In other words, brother and sister in all but blood, and they’ve weathered the fights to prove it (and the teacher has already told them they can’t sit together anymore). But despite that, each of the three of them will defend the other to the death, if need be, and woe be to the person who tries to lay a finger on any of the Three Musketeers.
Guess what happened when the unsuspecting student brought the milk into the classroom. As both boys were apparently looking worried and trying to figure out what to do, their female champion tackled the problem headlong. She began chewing out the hapless milk-girl, telling her she couldn’t have milk in the classroom, demanding that she remove it and go wash her hands, and telling her the damage she could cause the stunned boys. The other girl tried to argue, but she was up against a master.
By the time the teacher returned, it was all over, and none of the kids even thought to tell her about it.
After school, Kim noticed a tell-tale itchy spot near her son’s eye, and the boys reluctantly told us about the confrontation. Kim and I asked both boys what they did while their BFF defended them. They admitted they didn’t do anything. In fact, it was clear they were both intimidated. “Why didn’t you do something?” we both asked, aghast. What had happened to all our counseling about standing up for themselves and letting an adult know when there was a dangerous situation? My son has never been one to back down from a confrontation, and certainly he’s never been shy about informing people of his allergies.
“It was girl talk… a girl argument,” he said, as if that explained it all. “I was staying out of that.” His friend agreed. It was obvious that both boys thought Kim and I were nuts if we expected them to get in between two girls having an argument. Besides, they knew their friend had the situation in hand, and if they tried to jump in, they’d just get hit by nasty female crossfire.
I know adult men who haven’t figured out that lesson yet – proof that our boys are above average in the smarts department, if you ask me.
After Kim and I sputtered maternally for a few minutes about how they need to be responsible for themselves and they can’t rely on their friend to handle every situation, we backed off. After all, an amazing thing had happened that day. Kim and I realized that we aren’t our sons’ only protectors. There are other people in this world who care about them enough to protect them.
They’re called friends.
And even if they’re only 8 years old, they make a huge difference in our lives. And we can’t thank them enough.
Thank you, K.D. We love you.
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