I’m so glad I have a resilient, intelligent child. 

My biggest fear has been her sticking to this “diet”, but I am amazed at how easily she passes up candy and treats because she is not allowed to eat them.  I was really afraid of what would happen at the temptations at Valentine’s Day and I have tried very hard not to be “that” mom that makes a fuss about the treats other kids (parents) bring in to pass out since my child can’t eat them.  But I have to admit, I was disheartened at her loot from the class party.  Of the treats from 33 other kids, my daughter netted three pencils and an eraser.  Everything else went in the trash because she couldn’t eat them (well, almost everything.  Hershey kisses went in the freezer to feed my chocolate addiction). 

I wrote down a list, which I accidentally threw away, to share what came home.  I think there were four tootsie pops, three other suckers, two packages of Fun Dip, a couple random fruit rolls ups, fruit pops, the aforementioned Hershey Kisses and other various sugar filled candies.  Fortunately, since we aren’t really sweets people, my daughter didn’t miss them.  But I felt really bad for two reasons:  1)my daughter couldn’t enjoy the spoils of a childhood right of passage, and 2)other people spent good money on those things for me to throw away.  I wouldn’t be the least bit disappointed if they “banned” treats for this reason.  I know others would be and I wouldn’t dare take that from 33 other children just for my daughter when it is easily overcome.

If you’re asking what I sent in – homemade pretzel sticks dipped in chocolate made from ingredients my daughters can eat.  And on the little treat bag I attached an ingredients list, including the brand name of pretzels and chocolate used in the event another child has a similar issue or possible allergy.  I also had to send in a substitute treat (homemade chocolate cupcakes) so she wasn’t left out of a class treat.  I’m fortunate the teachers are cooperative with her diet and allow me to keep a stash of frozen cupcakes in the freezer at the school for her to have as an alternative to the weekly class treat.

But I’m also the mom that brings her child’s own food and treats to birthday parties because I don’t know what they are going to have.  And yes, I get funny looks.  But the change in my daughter is soooo worth it.  And I know how she feels – I was always the kid who had to bring my own hot dogs to cookouts or Girl Scout events.  I have a new appreciation for my mother because of the work she went through to keep me on the diet and she did it without the numerous resources I have from Feingold.  I understand why our meals always seemed like a repetitive schedule – she knew what was safe and stuck to them.  The reaction wasn’t worth the risk.

 So far we are having luck with introducing Stage 2 foods.  Tomatoes went well, but we discovered she can’t have them frequently, so my meal planning has to take that into consideration.  It seems the overall build up of the salycilates from frequent tomatoes makes her a little nuts.  It is a trial and error game.  Apples and applesauce were OK, but I had to peel her off the ceiling with apple juice (even watered down).  We are on grapes and so far so good.  Hopefully she can tolerate grape juice – I think she’s getting tire of pineapple juice all the time.

 And call me crazy, but I have found that I enjoy cooking new meals and recipes when I have the proper time, which is limited to the weekends.  I have gotten in touch with my inner Betty Crocker thanks to this adventure.

Amy is a financial analyst for an automotive finance company and a volunteer firefighter/EMT, where she also serves as President of her fire department.  She lives in Zelienople with her husband and two girls.

I am the mother of four amazing children, two girls and two boys. My husband and I are both very much into sports, having both been college athletes. When we began having children we both dreamed of them following in our footsteps. As much as we both want them to love baseball or running, we both know that they need to decide on their own where their interests are.

Having been a tomboy and not into the whole girly thing, I was very torn when my four-year-old daughter, Elliot, asked to be in our Community Day pageant. In my mind I had villianized everything pageant were, I had drawn conclusions about what they stood for.

This being said, I have very strong convictions about letting my children become their own person, not who I want them to be. I sent in the form and the $10 entry fee and tried my best to get excited for her. The day of the pageant I dressed her in that year’s Easter dress and curled her hair. Other than some clear lip gloss we skipped the make up, and pinned on her contestant number.

When Elliot got up on the stage, her huge personality jumped out immediately at the judges. She walked confidently to the middle of the judges, jumped up and threw her arms in the air. She threw out waves and kisses and her radiant smile lit up the crowd. I couldn’t deny that this little firecracker was born to be on stage.

After being crowned, I knew a little pageant diva had been born. She begged me to find another pageant for her to compete in, and I did.She did two more pageants that she won. She was making friends, having fun and I was working at keeping it all what I believe is appropriate for a young girl. We don’t do swim suits, make-up, hair pieces....nothing but natural beauty and charm.

When she lost for the first time at a large, national competition, I hoped the bug that bit her was finally done, but it wasn't. She didn’t care that she had lost. She had made friends and was happy with how she performed. It was then that I realized that this was not a passing craze for Elliot, she really was my little pageant princess.

Some of you may be picturing Toddlers and Tiaras right now. You may imagine us in the living room, me yelling at her to get her routine down. Maybe you picture a closet full of over priced and under used dresses.

Unfortunately, that is what a lot of people believe pageants are about. I want to tell you now, that is not the case. Of course there are always people who go to those extremes, but for the most part, pageants are so much more than what television cameras capture and share.

For us, we have had the great honor of being involved in pageant circuits that are confidence builders, friendship makers, girls weekends, and overall great experiences. It isn’t a beauty competition. Yes, overall appearance is part of the scoring. I’m not so naive that I don’t know this. But we find pageants that have talent, and interview so who she is matters as much as how she looks. We have an upcoming pageant where points are added for bringing in items to be donated to local charities.

I encourage people to reconsider preconceived notions and don’t be so fast to pass judgment. People look at me like I’m an evil mom when they learn Elliot is in pageants. Somebody recently told me they can’t believe I “make” my daughter do pageants.

The only thing I “make” my children do is pick what makes them happy. If that makes me a bad mom, I’ll wear that title proudly!

I have been craving pizza.  I can’t tell you the last time I’ve had a nice thick cheesy, gooey, chewy slice of pizza smothered in tomato sauce and covered in veggies and cheese.  No, I’m not on a diet.  Tomatoes are not allowed in our house right now.  And while there have been nights I just wish I could order a pizza instead of cooking, I’ve been really good at resisting.

Why, you ask?  Part of the Feingold program is eliminating fruits and vegetables that naturally have a high level of salicylates in them.  There is a link to children and people who have aspirin allergies to being sensitive to these fruit and veggies high in salicylates since aspirin’s main ingredient is acetylsalicylic acid.  In Stage One, we stay with the safe fruits and veggies that are low in salicylates.  After you see the desired results, you can reintroduce foods one by one and test for reactions.  For us, tomatoes are first, since that would open the door for ketchup (Heinz is approved, of course!!), pasta sauce, pizza sauce, chili, and all things we make that includes tomatoes (the kids favorite meatloaf recipe being one of them!!).

I have been feeling unprepared to test new foods.  After finally switching to fresh dairy milk with no infused Vitamin D (which could possible contain a preservative) and making homemade frozen bread (and I’ve also found a local store that makes fresh bread and whose pan spray doesn’t contain preservatives), I feel I’m finally where I need to be with my daughter’s behavior.  And for the first time this school year, I got a note from the teacher saying what a great week my daughter had at school listening, being respectful and completing her schoolwork.  And I had a complete stranger come up to me in church and tell me what angels my daughters were and I should be proud at how well behaved they were during Mass.  Those moments make all the aggravation worth the effort.

So, I’ve introduced tomatoes.  The first night, my daughter was running circles in the house within a half an hour.  But she’d been cooped up all day in the house and had watched TV most of the afternoon.  OK, give it a few days and try again.  Second time, she was a little wonky at bed time, but was mostly OK.  The hard part is learning the difference between a reaction and typical 5-year old behavior.  Plus, if there is a reaction, it is most likely to be significant since they have not been exposed to these foods in a while.  So we’ll try again - they are on the menu again this week in tacos, so we’ll see what happens.

Christmas time was challenging as I had expected.  We went to a Breakfast with Santa at a mid to upper scale restaurant where I expected fresh I ingredients in the food.  After all, I wasn’t paying $10 a head per child for junk food.  I stayed away from the pancakes and french toast, since I didn’t know what batter they used and the syrup most likely wasn’t 100% syrup.  Sausage and bacon were out because of nitrites in the meat.  So we went with fresh fruit and scrambled eggs.  In less than a half hour, my daughter was an irrational, emotional train wreck, to the point where she ended up sitting in my lap crying for almost a half an hour.  When we inquired about the eggs, we were told they were liquid eggs, mostly likely filled with preservatives and artificial color.  Lesson learned.  Christmas Day and the day after were challenging because I’m sure somewhere in all the food that we ate in those days, something was not approved, combined with the pure 5-year old adrenaline on Christmas Day.  But it passed.

Then the challenge to plan a Feingold friendly birthday party for my now three year old.  Having a party somewhere was out of the question since all the food would be questionable, unless I made it and brought it all myself, which I wasn’t up for.  So we roasted chickens, with homemade mac ‘n cheese, green bean casserole, potato salad, rolls, deviled eggs, and homemade banana cake with whipped cream cream cheese frosting (yes, I had to whip the cream myself.  No Cool Whip here).  All Feingold friendly.  And delicious.

So for now, I’m working with tomatoes.  After that probably apples since that would include apple sauce, which they love in their lunches.  Then other fruits like strawberries, grapes and blueberries, all favorites with them, which would also mean I can go back to jam on their sandwiches, instead of just PB without the J.  Bananas are starting to get a little old and cantaloupe and honeydew are expensive this time of year.  Pears and pineapples are good for their lunches.

Slow and steady, that’s the course for us.  I can live within these parameters if it means a happy, well-adjusted, even-keeled child.  I’ll just have to sneak pizza on my lunch hour.  What time is it?  I’m hungry……

Amy B.  is a mother of two girls, ages 5 and 3, who is following the Feingold program to help control hyperactivity issues in her 5-year old daughter.  Amy was on the Feingold program as a child when it was first introduced in the 70’s and knows its success first hand.

Amy is a financial analyst for an automotive finance company and a volunteer firefighter/EMT, where she also serves as President of her fire department.  She lives in Zelienople with her husband and two girls.

Editor's Note: Carrie is not a mom, but she is a daughter, a sister and a heck of a writer. When Carrie turned in this blog post for a class assignment I thought it was beautiful. With so many children diagnosed with Autism, including some of your kids, I wanted to share it with the PittsburghMom community. I hope you will welcome a non-mom into our 'home'. Heather

By Carrie Potter

My brother Ben is autistic. Despite this "handicap," I think he is the most wonderful person I know.

He's very observant, kind, shy and intelligent; he's the only one in his class that can read on their own. And he doesn't look like he has any kind of a problem. With dark, curly ebony hair, startling blue eyes and near perfect skin, Ben looks like a dream.

His dream, however, is to be his favorite character-- Peter Pan. Ben never wants to grow up.

And the great thing is that Ben can have this dream--he doesn't have to grow up.

I think I've always overlooked his autism. He was diagnosed when we were both very young (Ben was in preschool while I was in Kindergarten). I always knew he was special, but when I was little I thought he was putting on an act. I remember crouching outside of Ben's room listening to him play, waiting for him to break out of his act.

The act never really broke.

Knowing that Ben was different from everyone else naturally made me a bit over-protective of him. If any of my friends treated him with the slightest disdain, they were not my friend anymore. If anyone used the word "retard," my heart would chill and I'd lash out at anything human that moved.

The epitome of my big sister neurosis was when Ben and his class were in the Middle School talent show.

You know those events that you can remember everything about? You can recall exactly what you wore, the smell and colors of the place? This is one of my moments.

The Life Skills class was performing a signed version of the song "Don't Laugh At Me." They wore white gloves and black clothes, and with the black light shining on them, it looked like floating Mickey Mouse hands.

He was so excited to perform. Ben was my biggest fan when I performed--he couldn't wait to do his own performance.

As my brother and his classmates flew threw the song, the students seated behind me started to narrate the song.

They shouted several derogatory comments, mocking Ben and the rest of the class and laughing at their effort.

I was so sickened that I couldn't even turn around to scold the students.

But Ben never knew.

All he remembers about that night was that people clapped at the end of their song.

That performance is a metaphor for Ben's character; he pays more attention to everyone surrounding him than he does for himself.


And now he's going to be Homecoming King for his high school. A senior girl organized the voting so that Ben and his friend could reign over the senior class during Shaler's homecoming parade.

"Everyone has to bow down to me," he said with a mischievious grin on his face. "I'm the King."

He placed his hands on his hips, like he was thinking happy thoughts and then fly away to his own Neverland.

Carrie Potter is a Senior Print Journalism Major at Point Park University