Making Exceptions

I feel like I'm pretty good at being a consistent parent.  I'm mostly good at keeping the big picture in mind and making parenting decisions that will serve the kids well in their understanding of the world.  I'm not one to get sucked into a pouting face or a whining request.  I often say, "You can trust what I say, and when I say NO you can trust that I will stick to my word".  I truly believe that children feel safe when they have boundaries and they feel protected when their adults can take some of this worry off their shoulders.  If I say "No swim time if your room isn't cleaned", you can sure as hell be sure I mean it.  And they know when I say "I love you", I mean that too.

But I have also learned, mostly through their diagnosis, that I need to find a flexible spot in this hard line parenting I've mostly followed.  Where is the line of "they're just like every other kid, regardless of their medical situation", and "they require special accommodations to account for their medical situation".  It's hard.  How do I stay true to my core intention and yet be sensitive to their individual situation?  I think this holds true for any parent regardless of their "special need parenting" status because each of our children has their own "special needs", it's just one of my kids' special needs has the distinct name of Diabetes.

We're met with this decision daily, like when they may need something extra when what they "said" they were going to eat with their meal was left untouched.  We dose their insulin prior to eating, based on what they say they will eat, as this is the most effective way to maintain healthy blood sugar.  A ham sandwich and a handful of carrots should be around 35g of carbohydrates.  But, as is sometimes the case particularly with Walker, mid sandwich she may decide the ham is slimy or the mayo made the bread soggy.  So now what?  Do we make a whole new sandwich to accommodate the princess's request?  Do we make up for the missing carb with a tastier yogurt?  Or do we stick to our parenting philosophy of "what we make for lunch is what we make and if you don't like it then you'll be hungry and excited for what we have chosen for dinner", in doing so risking a dangerous low blood sugar that will inevitably follow within an hour.  See our dilemma?  We have many conversations about this, and the kids have a pretty good understanding of how dangerous this can be for their health.  As a family we make our meal plan for the week and the kids have input into what they would like for meals.  Luckily they will choose salad over pasta most nights and they know fast-food and take-out are not even an option worth mentioning (remember, I'm a parent that enjoys saying "No").  But, they are also kids who need the opportunity to change their minds, make mistakes, and learn their lessons.  With the issue of food and insulin we try to find a balance, and it's often a case-by-case decision.  Sometimes we let the carb discrepancy play out (with extreme guidance on our part), and sometimes there's no choice but to fill the carb void.  We have to choose our teaching moments with great care and pick our battles wisely.

Recently I was faced with a conflict I thought had no influence of diabetes.  You see, not every crisis in our family is the result of Type 1!  Walker was excitedly anticipating her first ballet recital  and as expected was wearing her recital costume around the house.  Somewhere along the way she lost the headband, the glittery gold headband that clearly tied the outfit together (oh, how I wish the snarky tone in my voice was clear here!).  I had said many times that I didn't think prancing around the house in this dress was a wise choice, nor did I want anything to happen to this fine frock. Of course, my words fell on deaf ears.  Fast forward to the dress rehearsal 3 days before the main event.  Much to her (but not my!) surprise, the headband was nowhere to be found.  "Oh, what a shame", "Our behavior has consequences", "Maybe next time you'll choose differently", and maybe even an "I told you so" were uttered from my lips.  I had little sympathy.  It was only a headband after all, and she would learn her lesson from this one.  I thought the issue was done.  The night before the big day Walker called me up to her room after she had been tucked in goodnight.  She was in tears, and without any probing told me what the problem was: she worried she would be the only one without a hand band and that every girl in the group had one but her.  There was one girl who lost hers but her grandmother had promised her that she would buy a replacement (I had already made it very clear that no replacements would be purchased, simply because she made a mistake).  Walker looked at me and with genuine sadness said, "Mom, I don't want to be the different one."  Oh.  Wow.  Ok, so it seems Diabetes WAS an influencer in this one after all.  We talked about how it's ok to be different, that it's often a beautiful thing, and that our differences make life interesting.  How boring if we were all the same!  She's heard it a million times.  But to this little 7 year old girl embarking on her first recital where everyone wears the same outfit and dances the same steps, being the SAME is exactly what she wants.  Every day she is the different one and her insulin pump and CGM and constant finger pokes are a visual reminder to everyone around her of just that.  I can't take those differences away, but I can certainly make a glittery gold headband.

So we make exceptions.  We do the best we can.  And we allow these things to shape our work as parents.  Parenting isn't one size fits all, regardless of if you're a Type1 mom like me or not.