When I was little I had two best friends. This was great because they were both radical and we played tea party like Queen Liz wouldn't even beleive. But there came a day when these two besties decided for some grade-school reason to become enemies, and it was very sad. Well, that's kind of what's happened with two of the loves of my current life, too.
Last Friday, because neither the veganism nor the fancy-dancy prescription formula seemed to be working, Dr. Allergy said, "eh, fuggedaboutit". So, though frustrated at not solving the Mystery of the Big Red Spots, we all did a happy dance about returning Little One and I to our favorite foods- breastmilk for Her and ice cream for me. Oh Ice Cream! How I'd missed you!!
Sadly our dance was interrupted by a string of events involving Little One's face resembling the after-effects of a bar fight, calls to doctors, pacing about, lots of scratching and howling on Little One's part, and plenty of trying not to Freak Out! on ours.
We think....it was the ice cream. The melty one I was holding while I foolishly carried it, Her, and both doggies out where old ladies distracted me with their endless questions and yappy lap dogs.
We think this because when we had more ice cream the next day,
Little One very deftly manuevered Herself into a contorted position in which her little hand swiped some double-fudge and stuffed it in Her mouth. Despite our quick wiping and scolding action, seconds later She had Goldie Hawn lips and hives all over her mouth and hand. Our unintentional experiment seems to have led us back to square one.
Oh Ice Cream! Why?! Whaaaaah-haaaahaaahaa-hyyyyyy????? How could you initiate an attack on my Little One? Apparently my two sugary little friends cannot peacefully coexist after all. Bummer. However, unlike before, there is a clear winner in this feud. Despite today's hives, fevers, and fussy-cranky-pantsness, Little One wins. Sorry, Ice Cream. You are SO not invited to my birthday party.
Last Friday, because neither the veganism nor the fancy-dancy prescription formula seemed to be working, Dr. Allergy said, "eh, fuggedaboutit". So, though frustrated at not solving the Mystery of the Big Red Spots, we all did a happy dance about returning Little One and I to our favorite foods- breastmilk for Her and ice cream for me. Oh Ice Cream! How I'd missed you!!
Sadly our dance was interrupted by a string of events involving Little One's face resembling the after-effects of a bar fight, calls to doctors, pacing about, lots of scratching and howling on Little One's part, and plenty of trying not to Freak Out! on ours.
We think....it was the ice cream. The melty one I was holding while I foolishly carried it, Her, and both doggies out where old ladies distracted me with their endless questions and yappy lap dogs.
We think this because when we had more ice cream the next day,
Little One very deftly manuevered Herself into a contorted position in which her little hand swiped some double-fudge and stuffed it in Her mouth. Despite our quick wiping and scolding action, seconds later She had Goldie Hawn lips and hives all over her mouth and hand. Our unintentional experiment seems to have led us back to square one.Oh Ice Cream! Why?! Whaaaaah-haaaahaaahaa-hyyyyyy????? How could you initiate an attack on my Little One? Apparently my two sugary little friends cannot peacefully coexist after all. Bummer. However, unlike before, there is a clear winner in this feud. Despite today's hives, fevers, and fussy-cranky-pantsness, Little One wins. Sorry, Ice Cream. You are SO not invited to my birthday party.
What kind of ice cream was it? If it was chocolate, it could be chocolate she is allergic to and NOT ice cream in general. I read somewhere that babies should not have chocolate until close to their 2nd year.
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