Mommy Fail

When you have a kid who requires an epi pen on hand at all times for life threatening food allergies, AND who avoids the stomach trouble of eating gluten, AND who can't advocate for himself because of autism and language challenges, here is what you do:

• Triple your grocery bill. 
• Shop at at least three stores a week.
• Order from specialty stores. 
• Never let people provide food to your kid that you didn't send along. 
• Communicate urgently with teachers and aides about this. 
• Stockpile special treats in your freezer for parties, etc.
• Watch what you eat yourself for fear you might kiss him or leave your water glass where he might use it and then endanger his health. 

Here is what you do NOT do. 
Not unless you want to burst into a fit of tears with uber mommy guilt:

Forget that there is a very big, special celebration to mark the second to last day of camp, and only send in a regular, healthy lunch for him.

His sister told me about it, about all the goodies she had while her brother had none. And when my overtired and enormously guilt-ridden tears vaulted down my face like the American Olympic gold medal champions, this is what happened next:

The rooster climbed in my lap to tell me not to worry about it, that he would like to "kiss my nose" and "cradle me like a baby." And he reminded me, "Mommy, you put a chocolate chip cookie in my lunch today, remember? It was good, I ate it. I am happy with you. It's okay!! You pack good lunches."

When you have a kid who requires an epi pen on hand at all times for life threatening food allergies, AND who avoids the stomach trouble of eating gluten, AND who finds a way to comfort YOU when you have a mommy fail, here is what you do:

Find every nut-free, gluten-free candy and treat in the world to put in tomorrow's lunch to celebrate the last day of camp and the best Rooster in the whole entire world.

I'm sorry, Rooster!!! I LOVE YOU.