love. life.

Stopped to get gas on my way up north just now. I was staring at Isla in the backseat but the guy at the next pump must have thought my gaze went his way.

“My tattoos must offend you, but you don’t have to stare.”

Sure, he was covered. Mohawk. Punk bumper stickers. Nothing I haven’t kicked with before.

“I was staring at my daughter. So now who’s judging who?”

I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders as I finished my fill.

Not all suburban mamas are stick in the muds, dude. I think you look just fine :)

Isla thinks this girl is me. She’s constantly asking to watch “mummy and monkeys” and, truthfully, I don’t rush to correct her mistake on this one.

She first caught this original video on Much More Music (because I’m a fogie) during the rare occasion they actually played *gasp* some music videos. She loved it, wanted more and more (thank you, PVR!) and then I found this version online. Can’t say I hate the altered thus kid-friendly lyrics (again, because I’m a fogie) and I love the fact that Isla dances along and mimics their moves. 

Ah, laziness… Hoping for one of those kind of days in the coming weeks. So blessed to be busy but I’m busting it trying to maintain some balance around here!

That said, I’m so excited for this weekend’s sessions and catching up on some packing around the house. I hope everyone has a great weekend planned?! 

This is Isla in the garden. She took a handful of “eeenuts”, held them up in her hand and called out, “chippies! chippies!” She then meticulously and methodically and with care and concern went to various rocks and flat surfaces around the yard, leaving little piles of seed for them to come nom on.

It caught me by surprise because, while I’ve heard her raise her voice an octave or two in the past, this was among the first times she did it as a means of calling out to someone/something to get their attention. Let alone positively.

So freakin’ sweet. I could actually hear feel my heart reach out and grab that moment to hold onto forever. Yep, sure could :)

Earlier she had woken up from a nap sobbing and, sure enough, her sugars were low. She wouldn’t let me put her down to get anything so it was a one-handed fumble juggle through the pantry to find various fast acting sugars she’d be into. My mum was quick to come to the rescue and I just sat, stroking her hair and rubbing her back while more snacks were nabbed. Isla just sat there hunched and looked at me, trying to catch her breath and said, “mommy” *sniffle sniffle* “cookie” *sniffle sniffle*

Hi! Can you hold my chisel? Can you hold my hammer? Can you hold this piece of glass? Can you now smash that glass to pieces? Because that’s how my heart felt. OY!!!! Bittersweet, but there’s another moment it’ll hold onto for the long haul.

This is a good thing, though! Yes! She’s waking up when she’s not feeling well. She’s using her words to communicate what she needs. She’s growing. And thriving. Thank heavens.

Isla and Nathan started out as forced friends. Thankfully, they took their fate in stride and play exceptionally well together while us mamas work hard and sip on our umpteenth iced coffees of the day. They truly have become lil’ pals :)

The only problem is sharing. They’re very good at it and, when it comes to food, it’s so backwards… Sharing becomes my personal nightmare!

Acting essentially as Isla’s pancreas, I need to know exactly how much she is consuming. It’s a twisted truth how Nathan and Isla are strictly told, encouraged and monitored for NOT sharing snacks. 

Just another day in bizarre-o land, what can I say?! Thankfully and as always Kimberly has my back and we get through it one bite at a time. :)

Like this time… !

“Bedtime milk.”  “Yogurt drink.”

“Whatcha got there?”

“Yogurt drink.”

“Can Grover have some?”

“Nice try.”

*womp womp*

“Look what I can do!”

“Was that subtle enough for you?”

We ditched the camera and intervened here. :)

On my way home from a session last night, I had a good ugly cry. Fugly, even.

It was a beautiful maternity session with a stunning mama who, quite honestly, boasts the most perfect epitome of a pregnant belly I think I’ve ever seen. 

During the session, we talked back and forth about our own pregnancies. Memories flooded. During the session, my phone vibrated a few times. I quickly checked to see how Isla was doing - she had suffered a major low earlier that day and it was with an intense struggle I even went to the session in the first place. Worries flooded. 

My mum has always pointed this out -> Remember when we were all pregnant and people would say “oh, what do you think/hope/know it is?” and we would smug/sweetly say “oh, as long as they’re healthy, I don’t care.”?

And remember when they were born, the priority switched from healthy to happy? So long as they’re happy? 

I got to thinking. If I could only choose one, would I want Isla to be sick and happy? Or healthy and miserable? 

On the way home, that thought struggle and memories of idealistic pregnant times mixed with worries mixed with panic about the permanence of her condition crashed together into a big ugly cry. 

It’s not even only that Isla has special needs, it’s that she has constant needs. I’m not talking the clean diaper, changing, pick up toys variety. I’m talking the life supporting kind. 

As a result, I have become the worst kind of helicopter mama. I’m the one counting food, getting freaked out if other kids take any of hers, give her theirs. I’m the one navigating not hurting feelings when I ask someone to not put high sugar snacks directly beside her on the table or not give her treats out the cupboard without asking me. I’m the one with three heads, who worries too much, who is throwing a kink in the kiddie plan if I say Isla can’t be outside in the heat for too long. 

When I explain in person, some are amazing. (ALL of you online are amazing.) I am so blessed. Others, their eyes glaze over and I, for some reason, am the one that feels embarrassed. It’s true how when some people ask “how are things going?” they really only expect and want to hear “great, thanks! How about you?”

I feel downright melodramatic in times when I don’t feel brave and confident and capable.

Then I read a post like this one. I realize I’m reeling from the exact same things many other mamas with diabetic kids are feeling. 

If anyone has ever thought to get inside my head these days, wondering why there are days when I’m numb, days when I’m quiet, clicking here to read this is a good start. 

Now, it’s a new day so I’m on my way. Today, we move. Today, we change. xo