I always love this time of year. I cannot get enough of kids dressed as Pilgrims and Indians, sitting down at their little Thanksgiving Feast, bonnets made out of construction paper falling over the girls’ eyes, and Indian vests two-sizes too big on little boys. One of my favorite things to do with the little ones I teach is sit down and ask them what they are thankful for.

It’s not as easy as you think. Some of the kids have got it – “I’m thankful for my mommy and daddy and my home.” Perfect. This kid has been well trained.

Others need a little coaxing. “I’m thankful for my Nerf Gun”.

I smile and then gently say, “It’s ok to be thankful for our toys, but remember God has given us our family and food to eat and warm homes to live in. So tell me again, what are you thankful for?”

“My family and my home and my Nerf Gun.”

Close enough.

I love this process because the kids are so honest. At four years old, they don’t own much. But they know what they do have and that’s what their thankful for. It takes a little bit of training and maturity to realize what they are supposed to say – things like family, food, and health.

Most of the time I have that maturity. I am trained to say I’m thankful for God providing us with so much, for my kids, and my husband. But on my bad days, I’m like a four year old. I want to hold up all my possessions and show everyone what I have. On my really bad days I’m not grateful at all. And on my really, really bad days I want it to be you and not me who has to have a child with diabetes.

My ungrateful heart is something I am not proud of. I have thought that something must be wrong with me to be so callous and cold. I am slowly starting to realize, however, that gratefulness is not something we automatically show up with in life. We have to choose to be grateful. And that is hard to do on some days.

So I’m going to start small. And I’m going to be honest. I know there will be days when my ungrateful heart wins and I get weepy and mad. This is a process, after all.

I will still speak the words, even if my heart is not feeling them. For I believe that just speaking the words give them power.

I will adjust my crooked bonnet made of construction paper, grit my teeth, and utter the words of thanks that are in my ungrateful heart. Because if I search hard enough, they are there.

Thank you God, for the noise of my children.

Thank you God, for the music playing, the dog barking, the drums banging.

Thank you God, for the dances in the living room with just the four of us.

Thank you God, for what diabetes has taught me.

Thank you God, that diabetes is not winning.

Thank you God, for forgiving my ungrateful heart time and time again.

Thank you God.

I hope I’m not alone in my struggle for gratefulness. Please share with me what you are grateful for and how you practice gratefulness (no four year old perfect answers allowed!)

Halloween . . . the one night of the year where kids can be anyone they dream of, adults loosen the rules and have fun, candy is abundant, and it’s ok to try to scare the little ones with ghost stories and scary masks. Not to mention all of us Southern girls get to decorate with pumpkins and fall leaves, drink pumpkin spice lattes, and pull out our winter boots (even though it’s usually about 80 degrees on Halloween here in the South, we wear our boots anyway).

What’s not to love about Halloween?

A lot, if your child has Type 1 Diabetes. The word Halloween strikes fear in my heart for completely different reasons. I’m scared of candy with no nutrition labels, parties with only pretzel sticks and M&Ms, and of course, the blood sugar highs and lows that come with a night of no routine.

Last year was the first Halloween Hugh experienced with Type 1. While I am by no means a veteran (I’m sure moms who have many more years under their belt can tell you much more), I did learn a few lessons that I would like to share. I hope this helps those of you who have children or grandchildren with Type 1, but also hope these tips apply to all parents who want their children to have a safe and happy Halloween.

Tip #1: Be Prepared

I can’t stress enough how important I feel it is to be prepared. Of course, we can’t be prepared for everything that might happen, but a little planning goes a long way. I try to print out or download candy nutritional facts to have on hand for Halloween night. JDRF has a helpful Halloween candy carb count list here.I also try to pack snacks that might be helpful if we experience some blood sugar swings. Cheese sticks and protein paks are great if Hugh’s blood sugar is high and he is craving something to eat. A 15 gram snack is helpful if Hugh is dropping low, but is not in the danger zone yet. Something with peanut butter or cheese is always a great snack. I also pack lots of water for the night. Running from house to house makes all the kids thirsty, but I draw the line at giving Hugh sugary drinks. I usually make him flavored water and every once in a while give him Coke Zero for a special treat (especially if all the other kids are drinking sodas and other fun drinks).
Planning the night’s events with your host is also very helpful. Calling a few days ahead of time to discuss what types of food will be served, what time the kids will trick or treat, etc. is not only helpful to you, but a thoughtful gesture toward your host. She/He might not have everything planned out, but at least they know you will be attending and you have thought about the night’s events. It does take a little bit of extra work to plan ahead and it can be stressful at times, but I always say it is worth it. Hugh doesn’t know the planning that takes place before an event, and he shouldn’t have to. It’s my job as his mom to take care of these things ahead of time so he can have a fun and carefree night!

Tip #2: Offer To Bring Food

There is no better way to ensure there will be something at a party that Hugh can eat than to offer to bring something myself. I usually offer to bring pizza, hot dogs, sandwiches, etc. That way, I know Hugh will be getting some type of substantial food that will keep him full and happy (and I also know the carb count). I ALWAYS bring enough for everyone, not just Hugh. I don’t want him to be singled out as eating something different and we love to share!

Tip #3: Don’t Make it Complicated for Others

Hugh’s Type 1 diabetes is my responsibility, not others. I don’t expect to go to a party and for the host to have everything Hugh needs. Whether it is a church function, private home party, or school activity, I provide what Hugh needs to eat and drink. Of course, many people are thoughtful and ask if there is anything they can provide for Hugh. But, I usually decline and let them know that Hugh can eat most anything the other kids can eat. If he needs anything extra, I bring it.

Tip #4: Trick-or-Treat First

Most kids are eager to start trick-or-treating and I’m ok with letting Hugh trick-or-treat first and eat supper second. The reason I do this is because after Hugh eats his meal, I let him pick two or three pieces of candy for dessert. That way, I can give Hugh the insulin to cover his food and his candy all in one shot.

Tip #5: Have Fun!

Ok, I know this is easy to say, but not always easy to do. But as you are planning for Halloween, try to keep in mind that one night is not going to ruin everything. Hugh might have high blood sugar when he goes to bed, but we correct it and move on. I want Hugh to be a kid and to enjoy this special night with his friends. If that means allowing him to eat a few more pieces of candy, so be it. Halloween only rolls around once a year and I am not going to make it into a night of rules and regulations. Here in the South (and especially in Louisiana), we can turn anything into a party. Just bring together good friends, good food, and a few ghost stories – preferably told in a Cajun accent – and the good times start rolling. Diabetes or not.

Happy Haunting, Ya’ll!

I guess we’re all afraid of something. Hugh, our kind and tender-hearted boy who has had to face so many fears in his young life, can’t quite get over his fear of mascots. Even mention the word and his heart starts racing. His eyes begin to dart around looking for an escape plan. When it comes to mascots with Hugh, there is no fight or flight adrenaline that takes over. It’s simply flight – he will do anything and everything to get away.

Amelia, on the other hand, is bullish and headstrong. Don’t get in her way. (Aren’t all good Southern girls like this?) She doesn’t seem scared of much. I suspect that if she were ever confronted by a mascot, she would ball up her fist and punch it square in the stomach. Mascots, bugs, snakes, monsters – Amelia will take them on. But don’t put her in a crowded room that is chaotic and loud. Crowds are her fear, and she will cling to her daddy’s leg like a little monkey. When put in this situation, she is usually reduced to tears.

Like I said, I guess we’re all afraid of something.

Me? What am I afraid of (besides frogs and ugly shoes, but that’s another story)? I’m afraid of THE NEXT THING.

I’m not really sure what THE NEXT THING will be, but it’s big. It’s like one of those monsters that lived under your bed when you were a kid. It’s hairy, with big green eyes and yellow fangs. THE NEXT THING likes to sneak up on you when you least expect it, taking you by surprise so that you are constantly in fear of it.

THE NEXT THING, to an adult, looks a lot like failing at a new job, losing a loved one too early, cancer, an incurable disease, divorce, house fire – I could go on and on. THE NEXT THING tricks you, because once it happens and you survive the encounter, you tend to wipe your brow and think to yourself, “I’m glad that’s over. Now I can live my life”. But that’s the tricky part, you see. THE NEXT THING isn’t gone, it’s just waiting under your bed for the next attack. That’s why it is so very, very scary.

THE NEXT THING also makes you live with regret. When Hugh was first diagnosed with Type 1, one of the things I regretted was never taking him to the local cupcake store in our town. I had meant to, but I was usually too busy. I would pass by the store and think, “One day I am going to stop and take the kids in for a surprise cupcake.” But I didn’t, and then it was too late. After Hugh’s diagnosis I would pass that store, and I would berate myself for not taking the kids to the cupcake store when I had the chance. I would end up in tears over that cupcake store. Because I thought it was too late. THE NEXT THING had happened, and we had missed the cupcakes.

I’m tired of living scared of THE NEXT THING. I’m tired of saying, “When the kids are older. When we have more money. When we retire. When I go back to work full-time. When we have more space. When the house is clean.” I’m tired of missing the cupcakes.

Scott and I are cautious by nature. We like to plan and save and wait for the right time to do things. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think God requires us to be responsible stewards for what he has given us. We try really hard to do that. But I also think God doesn’t want us to miss the cupcakes.

I’m not sure how to live a life that’s not scared of THE NEXT THING. But I want to try.

I think I will start by taking the kids to get a cupcake.