Loser Lunch Table

With competitive, ridiculously stubborn, and obnoxious parents, my poor son doesn't stand a chance. He needs to be fun, popular, and with a perfect quarterback name like Brody, I expect to see his name splashed throughout Sports Center. With a super athletic husband and my high calves, he is bound to be super athletic and cool...right? Of course, in our eyes, at 15 months he is perfect, fit to be king of the town, and will end up being a super star at a Division 1 college where we will tailgate, make great memories, and live vicariously through his fun. No pressure of course!

Well...my "perfect" husband and "perfect" son do share one little not so perfect commonality. They are both allergic to peanut butter. Since the first time my husband took at bite of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich around age one, he broke out in a rash. His mom tried one more time and the reaction worsened so he has never tried the stuff since. Can you imagine going through life without a Reese cup or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? I sure can't.

So, when I told our doctor about my husband’s allergy, she told me to stay away from nuts until after my son turned one. After my sons first birthday, we had him allergy tested and the test came back with very high allergic numbers to nuts. So...we have stayed away from the nut butters in this house. I still indulge in my regular snack of peanut butter and apples but the men...then tend to stick to grilled cheese and waffles. My entire family, Brody's babysitters, and about anyone who will listen to a first time mother ramble, knows that my son has a nut allergy. You can only imagine my shock and freak out when my mom shoved a peanut butter Christmas cookie in my sons mouth last weekend at a party. She blames it on the fact that the cookie was died pink so she didn't realize it was peanut butter. I say, any cookie that has those fork marks and a Hershey's Kiss topper is obviously a peanut butter cookie. I don't care what fucking color it is. After I flipped out and watched my sons lips swell up like Will Smith's on the movie Hitch, I poured Benadryl down his throat and within 45 minutes, the lips were back to normal. What a scary situation.

The next day was Christmas Eve so I explained the entire scenario to my family. As I shared the story and the fact that Brody IS allergic to peanut butter, my middle school aged cousin just looked at me with a "sucks to be you" look on his face. "What Aiden??" I questioned, knowing he had something to say. "Well," he said "Brody is going to have to sit at the loser lunch table. The kids with food allergies have a separate lunch table and it's really pathetic and there is only like one or two of them there. It sucks." WHAT?? Not my son. The quarterback of the football team. He sits at the cool lunch table. WTF are you talking about??

Apparently, with all the food allergies out there today, there are now segregated lunch tables in schools. Let me tell you...this did not make me happy. I walked right into his 15 month doctors well visit today and flat out asked my pediatrician if my son was going to sit at the loser lunch table and what I could do about this. I'm sure she already thinks I'm insane since when she asked me if he was walking/climbing I responded "Yes, he's a fucking crazy man." I used the F word at the pediatricians’ office. Don't judge me until you're a mental working mom with a 15 month old son who literally doesn't stop moving, pulling hair, smacking, laughing at you, or trying to climb on and jump off furniture.

So...as I drag this post on and on, let me get to the point. My perfect, insanely popular, athletic, and desirable son might have to sit at the loser lunch table one day. Soak that in people, because it is not an easy thing for this pushy, mental mom to digest.