Sunday, January 9, 2011

Her wish...

There have been so many changes in my life in the last six months. So many. Too many. And I am just now feeling like I am getting my head wrapped around things in my everyday life. I am starting to feel like I am not so clouded when it comes to single parenting or being alone. Tonight, I stayed in without the girls...I went to Central Market earlier and got food. I opened a bottle of Malbec, made a delicious butter lettuce salad with tomato, feta, garbanzo beans, olive oil, salt, pepper, and sesame sticks. I made penne pasta with a bacon, tomato, basil and garlic sauce. I have a cherry pie in the oven cooking as I write. And yes, I am home alone. And it's wonderful. I am finally OKAY with needing a break. I am not Superwoman.

I have done so much thinking in the last couple of weeks that I am exhausted mentally. As a working mother of two very active little girls, one being diabetic, my days and nights are full. There is not a lot of time to unwind. When they go to bed, I am still up doing finger checks, calculating insulin, etc. It would be SO easy for me to be a very grouchy, very negative, very difficult person to be around. The way I see it though, I have a choice. I have a choice to let diabetes run my life or to let it be a part of my life. I choose the latter.

Lily made a wish this weekend. We passed a that clearly was not meant to throw money in but hey, I let them anyway. She played with her penny, twisted it around in her fingers, closed her eyes, and said "I wish for a cure." Then, she threw it in. Most children would wish for a toy, a trip, a play date, etc. My daughter, my innocent 7-year-old little girl, she wished for a cure for diabetes. This is not the first time that I have heard her make this wish...and it won't be the last. And let me tell you, it will never get easier. I have just learned to not let my girls see my heart breaking with each word. I have learned to suck in a deep breath, pat her on the head, and say "Let's eat" like it's any other wish. Then, I sit down at the table with a multitude of needles, insulin, alcohol wipes, calculators, log books, lancets, monitors, etc. while the waitress politely looks away while I test Lily. It's second nature to us. It's a lifeline. Do I choose to feel sorry for us? Sometimes. Do I choose to let it ruin my day? Never.

The way I see it...with any parent who has a child with anything health-related whether it be allergies, autism, cancer, ADD, ADHD, dyslexia, heart disease, name it...there are 24 hours in a day, 60 minutes in an takes me all of 5 minutes in one hour to manage her diabetes. The 30 seconds it took for her to throw that penny in were awful, heart-wrenching seconds. The other 50 minutes of our lunch were fun. If I CHOOSE to not look at MY situation this way, in tiny increments of our life, then I will go crazy. I will be depressed. I will spend my time obsessing over trying to change something that I have ZERO control over.

So, I have spent quite a lot of time lately thinking about the choices I have made regarding how I feel daily, how I choose to live my life, how I choose to treat others even when I am having a terrible day...I choose to accept that this is what I have: a beautiful family made up of two of the most beautiful, creative, challenging, lovable, affectionate, smart, funny little girls, one of which takes a little more time to manage but the alternative is unbearable. I have realized that I am deserving of a break at times. I am not a super mom. I am a human being. I need to refuel. I need to have time to myself. I need to be around people that are positive and happy in their matter what comes their way. So, I have my day, I hear the wishes, I come home and refuel...I write to get it off of my chest...and I move on to tomorrow. What other option is there anyway?


  1. Oh Lily J wishes the same thing. And yes Kim you deserve break! Have a glass for me! Xoxo

  2. You've got it right.

    Last time Liam (4) made that wish, I noticed a small sign next to the fountain that said the money in the fountain goes to Children's Medical Center, where he was diagnosed and hospitalized.

    Gut punch, right?

    But we have to get up and go on to enjoy the other 55 minutes in the hour, right? Best of luck, and dinner sounded awesome! Enjoy that wine!

  3. Yep...everything you said. That is how I try to deal with it all now. The first year and a half was hard. Now I am doing WAY BETTER!.

    I didn't realize Joe and Lilly were the same age.