Why I hate goldfish

In a word, a food allergy parent is vigilant.  Early childhood is full of cuteness.  The kids are adorable, the clothes are darling, the artwork precious.  Even the snacks are cute.  And that is where the danger lies.

Doo do.  Doo do.  [Okay, so I can’t accurately type it, but please imagine the theme from “Jaws” here.]

Goldfish.  Not the awesome pets that swim around bowls and blow bubbles.  I fully support those guys.  I am talking about the fish-shaped crackers that taste like fake cheese and are ubiquitous in the world of preschoolers.  They hide in the car seat of a carpool mom’s SUV.  They take on crumb form to fill the deep recesses of your neighbor’s stroller.  If you see a refillable snack cup, the odds say it contains a school of goldfish.  They are EVERYWHERE.  And I understand why.  They are bite-sized and convenient.  A quick snack that’s not sweet.  They come in a variety of flavors and colors.  And they even “smile back.”

They are also made with milk.  Every.  Single.  Flavor.  (The makers of goldfish couldn’t even cut us a break with the pretzel flavor?!)  This is where the scariness lurks.  And this is why I hate goldfish. 

Cow’s milk is the most common food allergen in the US.  True, it doesn’t get the coverage that the peanut does, but it can still mess someone up.  All allergens can and do every single day. 

Whatever a person is allergic to is a danger.  Period.  End of sentence.  It doesn’t have to be among the eight most common allergens.  Even if you think it is a funny thing to be allergic to or you’ve never heard of someone being allergic to that before.  It doesn’t matter.  I’m not doing this for attention.  This is not a game.

My child could die.

I’ve created this blog as a corner of the internet where those of us in the food allergy boat can relate to one another, trade ideas, and support each other.  I also hope it can help with the learning curve for parents of the newly diagnosed.  I am a mom and often times on this blog I may use the word “mom” as a general, concise way to refer to any caretaker of a child with food allergies.  I mean no harm.  I want only good things for every allergic person, and everyone out there who educates his or her self to help someone with food allergies is doing a good thing.  You have my respect, and I mean no offense when I use the word “mom.” 

As I type this, we are months shy of the 10th anniversary of my oldest son’s first anaphylactic reaction.  I’ve lived in this world for awhile now.  I’ve learned a thing or two along the way.  And I’ve felt a whole lot of feelings about this subject over the last decade.  I want you to know you are not alone. 

Let me be clear, I am not a medical professional.  I am not a mental health professional.  I have no accreditation that deals with food allergies in any manner.  Please just think of me as a mom who struck up a conversation with you in waiting room of the allergist’s office. 

And please don’t be alarmed when you hear me ask my son to step away from the goldfish.