I keep telling Fiala that she’s a genius.  She’s smart, but I am more impressed by her… emotional intelligence.  She’s two years old — just barely — and often more perceptive than any of us.  She is the sweetest member of our family, deeply concerned when someone gets a boo boo, or gets in trouble, or has a hard time with something, ready to give hugs and words of consolation, celebrating — with visible relief and joy — when the difficulty has passed.  Likewise, she notices and files away into her memory things that make people happy, and will frequently say something like, “Great dinner, Mama!” simply because she knows it brings a smile to my face, and she’ll receive sincere thanks and some lovin’ in reply.  She acts with similar kindness and encouragement to everyone.  Recently, she has started asking just about everyone, “Hi!  How are you doing?” because she has noticed how happily everyone responds to a two-year-old who is sincerely concerned with their well-being.  She is simply a gift of God to our family;  I become more and more convinced that God knows we need.  🙂

Her restricted diet gets more and more difficult to manage as she gets older.  If you’re 12 months old, and you’re eating something different than the rest of the family, you’re not that likely to notice.  But, if you’re 24 months old, and you really like eating, it becomes a source of frustration and sadness that you can’t eat what everyone else is enjoying.

Countless times, Fi has asked for a food item, only to have me respond, “Oh, Fi… I’m so sorry, but you can’t have that.  It will hurt your skin!”  or, “It will hurt your tummy!”

At lunch on Thursday, we had a similar exchange.  Fiala had her Fi-safe lunchmeat, carrots, and farinata.  She was particularly desirous of the pepperoni and cheese that others were having.  I sometimes give her a bit of sheep’s milk romano, but she really wanted a whole slice of provolone.  “No, Fi.  I’m so sorry.  This cheese will hurt your skin, honey.  And your tummy.  I can’t give it to you.”

Fiala was quiet for a while, thinking.

Then, she piped up, in a heart-achingly hopeful voice, “Cheese makes me better, Mama!”

I about laughed and wept at the same time.

Precious child.


About Karen Joy

I'm a partially-homeschooling mother of six -- 3 boys ages 19, 17 and 15 years old, and three girls: 11, 8, and 3. I like birding, reading, writing, organic gardening, singing, playing guitar, hiking, the outdoors, and books. I very casually lead a very large group of homeschooling families in the Phoenix area. I have a dear hubby who designs homes for a local home builder and who is the worship pastor of our church. I live in the desert, which I used to hate, but now appreciate.

Posted on November 13, 2010, in Allergies, Cooking/Baking/Food/Recipes, Family, Funny Stuff, Health, Medical Stuff, Motherhood, Parenting, Sad Things, Sweet stories, The Kids. Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. Oh! Sweet, sweet girl. Good logic, too! The other day I was imagining a magic scraper, like a vegetable peeler, that you could use to scrape all the allergen off of any food. I would keep one in the kitchen and one in my purse. And scrape off all the provolone for Fiala.

  2. oh how it makes my heart hurt to hear that. I wish it wasn’t so hard. My son hears the same thing, over and over. “It’s not good for you tummy”. Almost 3 years now, he’s always been gluten free, and now we are trying dairy and egg free. I just keep telling myself how much healthier he is eating than the rest of the world, how important this is for his well being. If only it could be a little easier on them… best wishes to your daughter!

  3. I can totally feel your post. May God heal her completely so she can have as much cheese to “maker her better” as she wants!

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