Holidays don't hold the same appeal for our family as they used to. For me, growing up and going to holiday dinners was so much fun and so full of good 'soul' food. I've never been one to turn down good food so I relish in all the smells, spices, and tasty dishes. I've always loved mashed potatoes, turkey, and pecan or pumpkin pie. So it's unusual now to look at Thanksgiving or other holidays that revolve around a big meal as more of a chore than a delight. Chore a bit because of the traveling. Chore a bit because of the transition for Ewan. Chore a bit because of the social aspect that Ewan finds absolutely painful. Chore more than a bit because of the food issues.

My life before eosinophilic esophagitis was a life full of milk, cookies, cakes, cooking desserts, and looking forward to every holiday dinner. My life post eosinophilic esophagitis is a life contemplating ingredient lists and allergy complications. As I said to someone else with severe food allergies, big family get togethers that revolve around food just don't hold the same appeal that they used to.

For Ewan, holiday get togethers just aren't his cup of tea. I've tried the past few years to bring these two worlds together with as much playing, reading, practicing, and modifying as possible. But unfortunately, these two worlds just don't seem to match up. The ASD aspect rejects the social nature of the holiday, small talk with family, fluttering from grandma to grandma to aunt to cousin. The Eosinophilic aspect rejects the table and the dinner full of milk and eggs. The textures and smells are so far out of Ewan's league that he may never fully appreciate broccoli casserole even if it's made with fake cheese, soy milk, and egg replacer!

Another problem with Thanksgiving is that it falls directly into the middle of Ewan's worst allergy seasons. I can only assume it is dust related and if you all think I can get of dust, you must believe I really do own a magic wand. Ewan's Thanksgiving outfit generally involves a nebulizer. I pack our bags for an overnight trip to my sister's house and Ewan's medications and breathing treatments get their own suitcase. It's hard to enjoy the holiday when your eyes are red and swollen, the constant cough gives you muscle cramps, and the voice is so hoarse you can barely talk.

Thanksgiving used to be my favorite holiday of all. Mostly because everything about the holiday is food related. Turkey. Good. Sweet Potatoes. Good. Pie. All good. Now, I still look forward to Thanksgiving but I generally don't cook anymore because the smells are too strong in the house for Ewan to handle. We generally show up after the food has been cooked and the smell isn't as knock you down strong. I eat with relish and excitement, but I still feel the stares of everybody as Ewan does his own thing. I still hear the, "What's he eating, why isn't he eating with everyone else, doesn't he need more than fruits and the veggie tray?" Ewan is generally on such overdrive that hunger doesn't kick back in until the following day. It's hard to accept that a child doesn't eat the same way as the rest of the family. It's hard to accept that the child doesn't eat with the family. So much culture and tradition is passed down through food and holidays that we feel a child is missing an integral part of their heritage if he or she hasn't taken their respective seat at the table.

It's a difficult transition for our family. I don't want to take food out of the picture, not at all, but finding another focus besides the table has been an exercise in futility thus far. As Ewan gets older, I'd love to create a new tradition for us. Sure there is a table full of turkey, potatoes, and pies for the rest of us, but then we're off to a movie or a game or we have a Wii tennis tournament! Someday, someday, I will balance all of these needs and traditions and create something that works for our family. All of us. I want Ewan to find meaning in holidays like Thanksgiving that goes beyond the turkey and the table