I did it. I swore I wasn't that mom.
But I did it anyway.
Oh yeah, Conan. Yes I did.
My youngest called me at snack time from school last week and said, "You're not going to like this mom. I'm 404."
And yes he was right. I did not like that. Usually I would say, "Ok. Just correct it and we'll see where you fall at lunch."
Not that day. Not last week.
Instead I said, "What happened? What did you do?"
I know what your face just did. Reading what I said. You're face did this...
Told you I said it.
He sat silent for a minute and then said, "I know! I don't know what happened."
"Did you bolus for breakfa..."
"Yes." he interrupted.
"Ok. Just correct and we'll see if it takes."
When I hung up I knew what I did.
I could feel it broiling my conscience.
I kept shuddering and shaking my head thinking about what I'd done.
It bugged me all day, until I picked him up from school. When we had a minute alone in the kitchen I spoke with him about how awful I felt. I told him I knew that the number wasn't his fault. I knew that diabetes throws us numbers like that, if it didn't he would have diabetes in the first place. I told him I felt awful for making it seem like it was his fault, that even if he didn't bolus for breakfast it would have been ok, because things like that happen sometimes. No one is perfect, right?
And he hugged me and immediately forgave me. Even though I'm pretty sure it completely rolled off his back when it happened in the first place.
But I'm glad I said something regardless.
Because I made a mistake. And I owned up to it.
Even those of us with the best of intentions...those of us who know the harm words have...those of us who fully understand, or TRY to fully understand the mental toll of Diabetes...even we can mess up.
And that's ok, I think.
As long as we're honest about our mistakes. And sincere.
Kids can smell sincerity a mile away, just as well as they can smell insincerity.
I often wish I were the perfect mom who knew all the perfect things to say to make it all better all the time. I know such a mom probably doesn't exist, so in the mean time...
I'll keep apologizing.
And hope in the process of raising him I don't completely screw him up.