Time, Money, Heart.

I’ve always had this sort of obsession with looking good on paper, both literally and figuratively. Like yeah, it doesn’t hurt to look good in your license picture. I will admit I have delayed getting a picture taken on a bad day. Let’s be honest, they always end up just terrible, regardless. It was always HAVING the license that really made me smile. I remember when I got my first job, (not on the farm) at the ripe age of 13. I remember what it was like to have my first bank book far before that, at about eight years old. I remember my first paper checks (what are those, right?). I remember my first American Express Card. I remember filling out all the paperwork. God I LOVE paperwork. This feeling of paying bills, having a passport, license, registrations, applications, credit cards, asset accounts, insurance documents, diplomas and degrees; It made me feel like a person. Equity, organization and the ability to have the means to get something done has always been my most urgent focus in life.

I am more than positive that my need for being a success on paper was derived solely from feeling like a scattered mess as a child. Having no control, as a child, made me want to be an adult as soon as possible. I grew up too fast and took everything too seriously. As an adolescent, I strived for significance far beyond my years. I craved a significance that embodied a structure and control that I was desperately seeking in my childhood.

I have always felt that if you aren’t moving forward, you are moving backwards. I procrastinate for motivation. I reach further and further than I even need to so that I can catch up with myself. I wholeheartedly believe that the most fierce competition should be with oneself.

As I grow older not much changes, except that I’m not as worried with where the next money will come from. I don’t do this because I’m delusional. I do it because I now know what matters more. I know that if I work hard as much as I can, whenever I can the money will eventually come. Just as they money comes, it will go away. That’s the lesson in life about money .. it comes and it goes. Time, however, time just .. goes. You don’t get more time.

There’s always a point to working hard, making investments and being smart with money. There no point, however, in stressing about something that you can’t control. You’ll never be able to control the price point of the things that you need or want … so if you need it or want it enough … buy it and shut up. If your family needs it or wants it .. buy it and shut up. If you have a slow day at work, remember there will be busier and more lucrative days in the future, just like there were in the past, enjoy the pace and shut up!

I am old enough to have watched people die, too many times. On one’s death bed they are never worried about that slow day at work 15 years prior or how they needed to budget a little more on certain months. They never tell you about how they regret making too much money or too little money. No. If there are any regrets to be spoken of , they are the regrets of lost time and lost relationships. Rarely is it about what they look like on paper, but more how their families and friends see them in their heart.

I have small children. I do not have all the answers. I do know that I would like my children to be motivated and determined to make something of themselves. I expect for them to learn these things about money, time and heart on their own. Far beyond what I want to teach them about the importance of education, infrastructure and success; I want them to know that it is all going to be okay. Is that hippy of me? No. (and ew, never) I believe that my kids will be far more successful if they do not hear the adults in their lives being a slave to work, time, money, price points and the constant battle to look better on paper than the day before. There will always be more money … there will never be more time.

Tis the season.

It’s that time of year again … out come the long sleeve shirts and jeans, slippers and favorite hoodies. For many kids and many parents, it is the season where people finally give you break. They stop asking what that thing on your kid’s arm is. They stop wondering what is attached to their leg. After all, diabetes is an invisible disease.

This is the time of year I’m most reminded that this disease is everything but invisible. A type one diabetic mom never forgets that their heart and sole is running around with a bomb attached to their little perfect body. I mean that figuratively, while a pump, itself IS a bomb in it’s own right and should always be thought of as such.

This disease is relentless. The days that seem to make the most sense on paper are actually the days when diabetics and diabetic caregivers are the most baffled. Being the mother of a child who is on a treacherous blood sugar battle to the death is like watching an old wooden coaster in New England. You know the one .. it’s the best one at the park, but if you stand at the right angle you can actually see it shift as the car races the tracks. It’s a wooden roller coaster, so it’s okay, right? Yeah, let’s go with that. I guess there is a difference, the people on the coaster knew full well that the coaster seemed sketchy, yet they chose to take a risk, have fun and maybe not die for that five minutes of their life. No child, no parent, NO ONE EVER chose to have type one diabetes, there’s no way to step off that death ride.

In my very specific case, my child will never know a life without this invisible disease. For all intents and purposes it is, just that, to her, invisible. Sure, she sometimes has a tummy ache. When an alarm goes off she knows she can drink a juice box (which she loves!). She gets poked with needles often and understands that she is part robot and that’s just who she is.

This baby has never had to manage her disease alone. One day I will obviously need to teach her. I imagine it will be slowly over time, easy and natural … But here’s what I was thinking … what if I don’t. Crazy, right? More than crazy? Oh for sure!

Right now, I’m the one with diabetes. She has devices on her body, but I’m the one that feels the most emotional and mental pain. I’m the one with the sleepless nights, carb counting, meal prep, bag full of medical supplies and tools. It’s all me. Maybe it is crazy .. but wanting for that to become a burden on her is not something I look forward to. She is a fighter and she’ll be okay. I know this. I would just give ANYTHING to make this disease as invisible to her as this favorite hoodie season makes it look to everyone else.

Officially official.

Ten months of classes. No sleep in Saturdays. No idea what I’m going to wear, last minute, as I gather the kids and rush out the door. A full hour and a half of sitting in a chair waiting for one kid to come out of class as the other goes in. Antisipation for costume reveal. Sock buns. Hair spray. Bobby pins. Sock buns. Sock buns. Tights. More tights. “Where are the tights?” Application of mascra and eyeliner on a squinchy, unwilling little face. Dress rehearsal. Then this day … Recital day! The day they show us what they’re made of … the day they show us what this ten months was all about. Boy did they show me! My son moved !!! (100 times the step up from dress rehearsal) Oh my gawdddd he was so cute, it hurt. A true testament to the fact that a four year old will do anything for bubble gum ice cream. My daughter though … she can dance! Not just follow some direction, look at the older kids and copy. She actually did it! On her own, with pride beaming from her little face. I could actually see her determined mind communicating, confidently, to every muscle in her body. Then the biggest moment of all … when I get to hug my little star and watch the next half of the show with her, just us (and my dad, this year 💜). She is SO happy, so proud, excited and inspired. All I can see is that she’s SO grown up. She’s watching all her friends (I’ve never met a five year old with so many friends!). She’s cheering, clapping, hollering. It’s the official start of summer. Officially! I’ve had this moment with her for three years already and I’ll get to do it again, but not enough. When did my baby get so big? Why won’t time slow down? I’m in awe of this little human. I can’t wait to see what she’s going to do next, but if we could just slow it down a bit, that would be okay with me. 💓  #tinydancer #officiallysummer #thesemagicmoments