There are few things in life that actually bother me. Moms are all so judg-y of each other these days and I, truthfully, try my best to live above all of that. From mom’s who let their kids walk around with soda cans to mom’s who put their toddlers on leashes (cough cough – ME), everyone has their reasons for doing something or other with their kids…and who am I to judge? I don’t know why my child being in public with his Diabetes “on display” bothers me so much sometimes. He didn’t do anything wrong, I didn’t do anything to cause his disease… what am I so worried about?
The stares. The hushed voices and sidelong glances as I prick my son’s little finger to check his sugar. The “pity” stares from other moms who don’t have a child with a chronic, life-threatening illness. Or the shocked faces of parents watching me give my 15-month-old a package of Smarties or a fistful of cotton candy to keep his blood sugar from getting too low. The rolling of the eyes and curious glances as I put a belt/fanny pack around my little toddler’s waist to make sure his Dexcom doesn’t go out of range while he runs around.
I’m happy to explain why I’m doing any of these things to anyone who might ask. I welcome the questions and the chance to explain that I’m not the bad parent I appear to be. Give me the chance to explain why I’m openly and urgently pushing sugar into my son’s fist and quite literally down his throat if needed. It’s not to keep him quiet during karate or to stop him crying on a car ride. It most certainly isn’t because that was my morning or afternoon snack of choice. The belt I put around his waist when we are out isn’t to hold MY phone or any of his little toys that he simply cannot be without. Sometimes I want to scream when I hear the reasons people come up with as to why I do what I do with My toddler. However, I urge the curiosity and actually enjoy the conversation surrounding my son’s extremely rare type of Diabetes and wish I’d always get the opportunity to answer questions and educate.
Sometimes, I just get the urge to scream “HE’S DIABETIC! I’M REALLY NOT A CRAP MOM!!!”