A few weeks ago, I decided to be super-healthful mom. After the painful recipe-files-clearing-out of 2010, I found a recipe for an edamame-beet salad that I’d made several years ago. As luck would have it, I had beets in the fridge, and a bag of shelled edamame, in the freezer. So I made the salad.
All three of the boy-children consumed their portions. And I was ready to call it an ‘unqualified success’ when, thirty minutes after eating it, the Gort appeared at the top of the stairs. Wailing about how badly his stomach hurt. I chalked it up to typical boy-melodrama and offered a variety of generic solutions. But he kept wailing. And, when I finally got up to check on him, he had puffy eyes. And furious red scratches all over his person.
Maybe he was genuinely in pain?
I dispatched the professor to purchase some Benadryl and did my best to placate our very itchy and unhappy child. (Whilst assessing his breathing and doing my best not to freak out.)
A dose of Benadryl and an episode of Inspector Gadget later, his eyes looked semi-normal again.
Naturally I turned to Dr. Google, who suggested the kid had had an allergic reaction. But to what? The only plausible answer was the edamame. Soy beans. Which he’d actually eaten without incident when he was two or three.
I put ‘make an appointment with the pediatrician’ on my invisible to-do list. Which is where it stayed. I’d look at the phone, think ‘need to call that pediatrician’ but somehow it didn’t happen. And then the weekend arrived and the office was closed.
And then Saturday arrived. And I was in the middle of making chili. The boys were hungry, and begging for food, so I handed out granola bars. Kashi granola bars. Because I’m super-healthful-mom, that’s why.
And….thirty or forty minutes later, the Gort was crying about his stomach. And…yet again…I thought he was just being dramatic. Until I saw his lips. Which were puffed up to twice their normal size.
The professor was first on the scene. ‘Do you think his lips look bigger than normal?’ he asked, casually, before I’d taken a look at the kid’s face. I walked into the bathroom to see for myself. We’re not what most people would call a thin-lipped family but the Gort’s bright red, un-collagened lips, seemed to occupy half of his face.
A closer look at the list of ingredients revealed the de rigeur warning label (which I’ve never even read): contains soy, milk, and sesame.
Another dose of Benadryl. Another round of close monitoring. And a child-sponsored guilt trip: ‘you need to tell mom she should look at the menu (list of ingredients) before feeding me stuff’ our oldest informed his dad. Indignantly.
I called the pediatrician’s office at 8am on Monday.