What’s Love Got to Do With It?*

Last weekend, I was cleaning out the garage and organizing all the toys, tools, and trash.

By “organizing trash” I mean strategically placing those items the kids might give me grief about in the bottom of trash cans.

Who needs broken plastic golf clubs from the Dollar General, a fabric frisbee that has taken on a pentagon shape, or a crusty bottle of bubbles?

Not this mom!

Anyway, as I was cleaning I was reminded of a funny story from years ago.

Ian and I had spent an entire day outside playing “ball.”

Baseball, basketball, football, golf, tennis, lacrosse, kickball, volleyball, bouncy ball, paddle ball, and “Swick”.

(“Swick” is a mash-up of a game of kick ball and swinging. There is a complicated scoring system that only Ian really understands, but the rules amazingly stay consistent.)

Anyway, as we were cleaning up our yard, which looked like a ball pitt that had exploded, Ian recapped how fun the day was.

“We played baseball, basketball, football, golf, tennis, lacrosse, kickball, volleyball, bouncy ball, paddle ball, and “Swick”!

“Yeah, buddy, that’s a lot of ball. It was fun!”

“Yeah, we never do that at Dad’s. Dad doesn’t have any balls.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*What’s this title got to do with this post??

Happy Dia-versary! It’s Been One Year!

It’s been 365 days since Day 1.

No less than 2, 555 blood sugar tests.

At least 1, 460 shots.

1 trip to the ER for dehydration and ketones.

3 A1C’s that only dropped by a measly tenth of a percent each time.

It’s been a crazy hard and wonderfully bittersweet year. A year of firsts and milestones.

But he did it! We did it!

A year ago, this never seemed possible…that we’d deal with this and be ok.

We’re better than ok.

Being a mom is hard enough. Being a mom to a T1D…unimaginable.

But I’m ok.

And why wouldn’t I be?

I have a daughter who has learned to roll with the punches – both the highs and the lows – to accept the mood swings, to be flexible, to keep me on my toes, to bring laughter when we need it. She is my comic relief, my easy-going girl who truly makes my life easier.

I have parents who are willing to work around our eating schedule, make multiple rest-stops on long car trips, choose the right places to eat, make life feel normal, count the carbs, distract the kids, be quietly concerned, ask questions, make suggestions, but never push.

I have friends who give me their time and lend an ear, from miles and miles away. Friends who’ve come back to me and helped me deal with this latest season of my life. Friends who text at just the right time to bring a smile to my face.

I have a sister who provides the medical advice, the side-splitting laughter, the room to complain, the reminders to breathe.

I have a little boy who is amazingly strong in every way. His puppy dog eyes and his uncle’s charm, his sense of humor, his need to compete, his drive to win, his mad math skills.

I am a lucky mom to be given this strange gift wrapped in a beautiful package.

And someday, probably years from now, the best gift will be a cure. Until then, we will celebrate every year!

Happy 1st Dia-versary, Ian!! I love you!

Taking a Break from “Shoulds”

Today I gave myself a break…

A day to rest my ears, close my eyes, still my mind, and fix my heart.

I haven’t graciously accepted a day like this in forever.

I struggle with down time and with bring alone, yet I have a lot of it.

Usually I punish myself with “shoulds” (You know, all those things you tell yourself you should be doing) and rack myself with guilt for not being the most productive or most social person I should be (There I go with the “shoulds” again!)

But I have realized the usual isn’t working.

So when the kids left for their dad’s at 11:00, I declared this day my own.

And I quietly celebrated a break…

A break from counting carbs and giving shots

From logging numbers and breaking up fights between squabbling siblings

From the orthodontist and the bills

Today I got a break from cooking and cleaning and laundry and raindrops (Hello glorious sunshine!) and I don’t have to get up for a 2 a.m. blood sugar check.

Literally, not a spoken word since 11 a.m, unless you count talking to the cat…and the choice words I muttered when I sliced my pinky finger while getting out a lawn chair.

These “breaks” aren’t always welcome and I often waste away my time wishing for plans and conversation and counting down the minutes until they return, only to find myself frantically doing all the chores in the two hours before I pick them up.

Today I watched the garden grow and read for hours.

I ate leftovers with my feet propped up and I got some sun.

I took a long walk and I guiltlessly discovered my next project on Pinterest.

I listened to birds and the breeze and dogs and car doors and never once secretly wished it was someone coming to visit me on such an alone, but not lonely, day.