I always thought having kids made you a better person – you learn patience and selflessness, you realize you share a common bond with much of the planet, and you finally realize how much your parents put up with. Raising a kid with a physical/mental challenge is supposed to make you even more saintly.
I have not noticed this. Raising a toddler with T1D has made me cranky, thin-skinned, and even more OCD than before. It has, however, put me in touch with my inner bad Santa:
- Luke complains that his site/set is itchy and hurts, but I won’t change it, because this one actually WORKS.
- I give him extra helpings of dessert, because by God – my kid may have diabetes, but he CAN have sugar!
- Easter turns into a cascade of presents, because God knows – my kid doesn’t need the extra sugar!
- I play the D card in a restaurant in order to get
mymy child’s dinner brought quickly.
- Luke gets to stay up late and watch TV while sucking down apple juice (hello, BG 50) from a bottle/stay up late dancing to the Gorillaz (hello, BG 329)
- The Dex beeps, but I ignore it to catch the end of Breaking Bad/snooze for another 30 min./finish a blog post/ahem
Come back August 5 for this week’s Sugar Bolus giveaway – Not Dead Yet!