Anti-Cookie

I wasn't always against cookies. Quite frankly I love the things myself. What I'm against is the use of food for the holidays... all holidays. Why is it that a Valentine's party at school includes cookies? How about that end of the year party? Or the Christmas party?
Why do we reward our children with food?? Why do we celebrate with food? Is there a reasonable explanation as to why we can't have a few games, do a craft and send the kids home with a smile on their faces without cookies or juice for that matter (that's a whole other blog post in itself)?
As we get close to the end of the calendar year, we enter the Christmas season. I absolutely LOVE Christmas, but I don't love the food. From nut rolls, to peanut butter fudge to cookies, cookies and more cookies. They are evil, I tell you!!!
Some of you may think I've fallen off my rocker, but I want to take you into the day in our lives when cookies became the devil. Some of you lived it with us. Some of you will still think I'm crazy. That's okay guys. We live our lives differently because of that day. 2 years ago this week, we came a little closer than we ever dreamed of coming to losing our sweet Owen-- all because of an innocent moment. We excitedly prepared for Owen's final preschool Christmas program where he would stand in front of the room with his classmates, his friends, and sing in that adorable little off key voice we so adore. The room was packed, as it always is, and the moment came for the kids to sing their songs. It was a wonderful performance (short as always, but just the perfect length for preschoolers and their families). With a one year old (at the time), the performance ended at just the perfect time. Time to change the diaper. So, I took diaper duty and went to the bathroom to change her diaper while my hubby took the boys to get some cookies in the fellowship hall.
It seems time stood still after that. I walked into the fellowship hall to see my boys all sitting at a back table eating their cookies and laughing together. What happened next will forever be engrained in my brain. My brain registered it and reacted before I ever realized what was going on. I saw my Owen eating a cookie that traditionally has peanut butter in it. Even though the warnings were posted and the parents were reminded, I knew what I was seeing!! Wade said I became a mix between a crazy woman and a super Mom all of a sudden. I don't even remember putting the baby down or where she was during all of this. All I remember is slapping that cookie out of my child's mouth and hand and whipping out a Benedryl to shove in his mouth at the same time. I looked at Wade and said, dial 911 and immediately went to find Ms. Julia. I needed to know if I was overreacting or if this cookie had indeed contained peanut butter.
She stopped the festivities and asked who made those cookies. We verified within a matter of seconds that they did, indeed, contain peanut butter. I don't remember who stayed with Alec and Sofia, but we took Owen into the hallway to monitor him and wait for the paramedics. I know that his airway can close quickly, so I started to have him repeat his alphabet to me to keep him talking. He seemed okay, but each reaction can be different. We weren't aware of how serious it really could be, even in that moment. I remember feeling overwhelmed and held at the same time. The staff (who were probably the ones watching the other kids, truth be known) were wonderful and so very helpful. The paramedics arrived to tell us that while his heart rate was elevated, all of his other vitals were fine. They recommended we watch him and said the best thing would be for him to vomit to get it out of his system. If only we knew...... If only they knew........
Within 5 minutes of them leaving, Owen vomited, which was the worst thing that could have happened (we found that out later). It was yet another sign of anaphylactic shock that we were not aware of. He suddenly seemed worse. Rather than call the paramedics again, we opted to stop at the neighborhood fire station prior to going home. The other station's paramedics said he would be fine, but we couldn't shake that feeling that something was just wrong about the whole thing.
We stopped and were told the exact same thing. His heart rate was elevated but the rest of his vitals were fine. Take him home so he can rest and monitor him closely. We knew we were in for a long night. I know Wade called someone when Owen and I were in the station house to prepare them should we have to go to the hospital (I can't remember who it was to be honest). We went home and Owen complained of being hot (another sign we weren't aware of). I stripped him and sat with him on the sofa. Wade kept looking at us, and I could tell he was really worried. I looked at Owen at one point and realized he was so covered in hives that I didn't have a clue where one began and another ended. It was time to go to the hospital. We found out once it was all said and done that Owen's body reacted from the inside out. His organs were attacked first. We hadn't given him his epipen because we were under the assumption that if we could avoid that it would be better for Owen. We were wrong.. so very wrong. We now know the process is to shoot him first, give him Benedryl and call 911. We know that we insist he goes to the hospital every single time because we can't tell what is happening on the inside. He could have died that night. He doesn't remember a lot from being at the hospital, but he does remember that darn cookie!

So this story brings me to my original thoughts. Cookies, they are evil for our house. They scare all of us. Owen is scared to the point of panic attacks lately. I try to be easy going, but I tend to be quite high strung as a general rule. The next few weeks, we have our first experience back at the same preschool with the cookies. Nothing against the staff or the school, but we are opting out this year. We aren't ready to face those memories or take that chance again. But the cookie exchange for dance and the Christmas party at school still loom on the horizon. The cookies for the school party aren't going to be acceptable, so I am working with our awesome friend and PTA President Cherie to come up with a solution. I also have an open dialog with his dance instructor and the owner of the studio regarding that one.  I end this with my questions. The ones I know Mom's all over the country have to ask every single day... the ones that I've been battling with for the past 6 years of his 7 year life.. the ones that weigh heavily on my heart each day as I pray I see him again at the end of the day healthy and safe.
I want to know why I have to do this? Why is it that my "special needs" child is an after thought? Why is it that our society accepts celebrating EVERYTHING with food? Why can't we just accept the comment, there is no food being brought in for this celebration and be done with it? Why can't we just understand it's someone's life on the line when we don't change our habits? Why does it have to be my son?