“Here. Blow.” Another mother gives my son a kleenex and makes a motion to her own nose which she hopes will facilitate the exchange. My son looks up at her blankly. “Blow,” she says again. “Its not good for them to have so much mucus in their nose.” The people-pleaser/health worker in me agrees instantly, and probably with more fervor than I actually feel to save some face.

Baby, it's cold outside...

The truth is, I didn’t even notice that his nose needed blowing (there wasn’t any thick oozing gunk halfway down to his lip, and isn’t that the universal time for a tissue?).

My son continues to look stunned, and finally passes the tissue lightly across his face, in hopes, I’d imagine, of putting this perplexing nose-blowing issue to rest. My son, after all, has been raised, for better or worse, in a household that rarely mandates anything besides toothbrushing and vegetables for dinner. Nose-blowing we generally leave to his discretion, unless it’s evoking a physical response of discomfort in me as the observer. Pick your battles, I say. Apparently, his friend’s mother has a different threshold.

She tries again one more time, and at this point, to diffuse the situation, which, by the way, probably has layered cultural nuances as well – she’s Ukranian, I’m American, and we’re speaking to each other in French – I start to explain on his behalf… ‘He’s not sick,’ I say. ‘His nose has been running like this since the weather got cold.’ ‘He’s got no other symptoms,’ I tack on as an after-thought. Worries about the “grippe” (aka flu, aka Swine Flu) run high here in France, and a whiff of less-than-optimal health might weed Aidan out of good company for the rest of the season.

“Have you tried a coat?” This comment is not as catty as it sounds, merely inquisitive and helpful, if not painfully obvious. I look down then at my son and realize, while I am wearing knee-high boots, heavy pants, a wool sweater, a scarf and a leather jacket, he is wearing a collared tee-shirt and a light sweater. No coat, no scarf. Thank god I remembered his socks. I fumble around in my mama-size purse and triumphantly pull out a light coat. He immediately shakes his mop of hair at me. No Way. “He doesn’t like coats,” I explain, which is true, at least this morning.

In order to bring meaning to the absolute incomprehensibility of this last remark to my new Ukranian friend, I’d have to harken back to my school of parenting that over the last year or two – and as my son crawls into my bed and arranges himself perpendicularly to maximize the space he takes up at 3am when all of my friends’ children have been sleeping gracefully in their own beds – I have called into question more than once. I belong to the ‘don’t stifle their free will’ camp, which has inadvertently turned into occasional and indefensible permissiveness. I don’t think my French or her culture will accommodate this discussion, so I let it hang in the air between us. ‘He doesn’t like coats.’ She shrugs her shoulders and gives me a smile, then bends down and carefully adjusts the buttons and zippers on her own son’s arctic-ready outerwear, just like the parents who raised me might have done thirty-some years ago.

There’s a warmth in the sudden memories of my parents that she evokes with her routine gesture of adjusting her son’s jacket, a safety in it. ‘Someone is looking out for my welfare, so I am free to play’. I wonder if I have entrusted my son with too much responsibility for these day-to-day decisions, even when issues of health may be involved. I also wonder, quite earnestly, if my son’s nose is, in fact, running for the last three weeks due to his lack of seasonally-appropriate clothing — and for a second I seriously consider if I need to give up my profession in kids health care entirely.

I have since decided to stay in my field. If a little more embarrassment on my part (and if you wonder why I say ‘more’, refer to the night I fed him chocolate eclair before bed) might glean something useful for others, well, consider this another one for the team. I’ve been thinking about the runny nose and cough that I see most frequently at this time of year in my clinic, and now wonder if the first words of wisdom I should give my clients are, “have you tried a coat?”

While it is not technically true that the change in seasons, or being too cold or hot can actually cause illness – viruses, bacteria and other invaders coupled with an immune system not up to the job do that – it does seem to be true, from as far back as eastern medical texts go, that not keeping your body’s temperature comfortable does represent an attack on the immune system, sometimes big, sometimes just small, but constant over time (a window left open at night while sleeping when the temperature has dropped too low, going too long in flip-flops (my own favorite sin), or waiting to pull the winter wear out of storage). And if something as day-to-day and easy to remedy as weather-ready clothing can make a difference, think how much difference it would make if we take our natural remedies for the runny nose and cough that are so common at this season just a little step further. Lets talk about easy ways to take those first signs of runny nose or cough, and stop them before they become part of our winter holidays.

1. When your town’s weather changes from warm to cold, keep your child’s neck warm. Chinese medicine has long held that the neck is where ‘invasions of cold’ first enter. A light scarf is great, even before its time for parkas.

2. At first signs of a runny nose, begin a regimen of digestive enzymes, with protease. Proteolytic enzymes reduce inflammation, break down mucus, and bolster digestion – which has a big role in immunity. A couple of enzymes on an empty stomach and before bed can play a great preventative role. (In our house, we break the capsules open and put them in just a little bit of maple syrup, which turns it into a treat.)

3. If your child shows any signs of impacted mucous in his or her nose, use a salt-water nasal spray. You can make your own, by combining ¼-1/2 teaspoon of non-iodized salt with 8 oz of water and ½ teaspoon of baking soda (just use a couple of drops, its not necessary to use all 8 oz), or buy one over the counter, in spray or drop form. If you buy one over the counter, buy one without additives or preservatives, which can be very irritating. It’s important to keep the mucous soft and running out, so it doesn’t make a home in the sinuses or ears, as breeding grounds for bacteria.

4. If your child shows first signs of a cough, get your kitchen ready, with slippery elm bark powder, loquat syrup, lemons and honey. Slippery elm bark is the inner bark of the tree, that forms a gelatinous fiber when added to liquid. It has been used for

tip #6: acupressure for cough

centuries by Native Americans for cough, and is considered quite safe, even for young children. It tastes sweet, and can be placed in warm water or apple juice – usually 1 teaspoon is sufficient for a cough, or even sprinkled onto oatmeal or other foods. Aviva Jill Romm, in her book on Naturally Healthy Babies and Children, outlines a great recipe for slippery bark cough lozenges, made from two tablespoons of slippery elm powder, and enough honey to give it the consistency of dough. Then roll the dough “into a long, thin snake” and cut it into bite-size pieces, about ¼ inch thick. For children under 15 months old, try using maple syrup instead of honey, and only if they’re already accustomed to solid foods. One thing to know about slippery elm, and many cough remedies: Eastern medicine links the lungs to the large intestine – they’re considered a pair, which means the way one functions has effects on the other. The advent of this relationship is not particularly surprising if we consider that many naturally-occurring cough remedies are also constipation remedies. Don’t be surprised if stools get a little looser, although back off on any remedy if stools get consistently watery or contain a lot of undigested food.

Loquat syrup is a mentholated syrup that is readily accessible in Asian markets and, I’ve noticed lately, in health food stores. It tastes great – to kids that is, I think it is cloying sweet – and stops mild coughs almost instantly in many cases. This is also a very safe remedy for young children.

Finally, lemons are one of nature’s treasures for antimicrobial activity (ie virus and bacteria killing). A little warm home-made lemonade, sweetened with honey – which has its own antimicrobial effects, and you’ve got an ultra-effective, safe and inexpensive cough syrup. Again, for kids under 15 months, skip the honey, and try a little maple syrup instead.

5. If your child tends toward dry cough, get bananas, daikon radish and pears ready. If your child’s cough is non-productive – in other words, they are not coughing out mucus – and it sounds raspy and dry, rather than wet and croupy, try bananas, sliced and cooked into a thick stew – this is old Chinese nutritional wisdom, as bananas have lubricating properties. Also try daikon radish, grated and steamed with a little sea salt – this is great for many coughs, especially the kind that’s dry, or that seems to be making little one cranky.  Cooked pears are excellent at alleviating symptoms of a ‘hot’ cough – a cough accompanied by flushed face, fever, and sometimes, not always, green mucous – they are also great for a dry cough.

6. Finally, get your hands ready to do some acupressure and massage. For this, a picture is worth a thousand words, so I’ll refer

aidan, doing his own acupressure

you to my video clips from Mommy’s ER, which include a myriad of easy pressure points you can massage with your thumb, and points for back massage as well.

And put your kid’s coat on, honey. It’s cold out there. ☺