Spent a fun-filled day at a park for a family reunion yesterday. I loved watching you run, slide and play with all your cousins. The only problem was the array of desserts and chips just within your little arm's reach. Thanks to Mom and Dad's hawk-like eyes, disaster was averted--all except for one Cheeto and one tortilla chip (you have quick hands!). Because it was a potluck, mostly everything was homemade, which meant we had to play the carb-guessing game. I think we guessed pretty close and everything turned out. I expected your levels to be low following all the running and activities of the day. You fell asleep on the way home and I tested you once we got home. 415? What?! Immediately I thought you had sneaked a cookie, and maybe you did. I'll never know! What baffles me more is that only a few hours later, at bedtime, you were down to 76. I've never seen such a sudden drop! What does that mean? How will I ever keep up with your changing levels? Ugh.
Like I said, Kendra returned from girls camp last week. The camp had a theme of "We can do it" and used Rosie the Riveter as a sort of mascot for the week. I've always loved what Rosie stood for in history, the courage of the women during WWII astounds me. During camp, the camp leaders talked about the figurative war the girls fight every day between forces or good and forces of evil. The theme gave the girls courage to choose the right in all they do. I had the opportunity to go up to camp every evening and participate with those inspiring girls.
I have been feeling so weak, so incapable of tackling the big D-word with you, my little 2-year-old. I have often found myself discouraged, but you know what? I think this theme carried me through this second week since your diagnosis. For the first time, I feel like we really CAN do this! You, me, Dad and the huge support system we have surrounding us. We really CAN fight this war against diabetes and WIN! I know it! That thought alone has given me a lot of courage. In fact, today seemed so routine that I almost forgot you were diabetic. Your brothers and sisters have been romping and playing and grazing on food all day like they usually do on Sundays. More than once I've had to catch myself handing you something to munch on just like everyone else, but before I let discouragement seep in again, I catch myself. And remember. The old normal is transforming to the new.
So, I hope this message will resonate forever in my heart and yours and anyone else who struggles each day with diabetes (or anything for that matter). I know I will have my off-days, I expect it, but for the most part, let's help each other knowing that indeed WE CAN DO IT! Okay my little T?