Happy Birthday, Little Man!
You’re turning three, little man, and you have already spent more than half your life dealing with the risky business of T1 with as much panache as a toddler can muster. (Is there a word for crossing the nadir of living with T1 longer than without it? The Pancreatic Dixon line? The Latitude of Langerhans?)
You’ve got it down – the sleeping through finger sticks at night, holding still while we fiddle with your pump (not easy for a boy who jogs while brushing his teeth and appears as a blur in most pictures), and pop in new sets (well, hey – you hold still more frequently now). You giggle when we put a cotton ball in your diaper.
Typical toddler, you’ve found ways to turn T1 to your advantage. “Mom, the Beep Beep says I need juice,” you lie, waving the Dex (you don’t yet know enough about numbers to fake them, but that will come!). Bed time rolls around, and even though blood sugar’s fine, you declare, “My bandaid’s [set] not working – change it!”, hoping to stay up late, have a few M&Ms, and watch a bit of TV. (Seriously – a needle poke is worth all that?) You haven’t figured out the nuclear option yet – refusing to eat after a hefty pre-bolus – but I’m sure we’ll get there.
What amazes me most of all is that, despite the blood sugar roller coaster T1 has put you on, you’re still a sunny, good-natured kid. When blood sugar swings high, way beyond anything I’ve experienced post-Thanksgiving dinner, or way below a missed lunch that turns me into something out of 28 Days Later, you get a little glaze-eyed but keep right on burying trucks in the sand or climbing up the slide for the 20th time. Like your dad, you love people and sometimes seem determined to invite the whole world into our house (including the outdoorsmen and pharmaceutical entrepreneurs working the street corners of our ‘hood), which is going to help you share the burden of this crazy disease. Having a touch of your mom’s OCD probably doesn’t hurt, either.
I’ve always been a bit in awe of kids who, despite whatever physical challenge or trauma in their lives, are tough enough to remain sunny-side up. I never thought I’d have the privilege of being parent to one.
Happy birthday, little man!