Sunday, November 21, 2010

J's Day.

J turns 13 today…and if you haven’t noticed from my previous “twelvish” comments…I’m not having an easy time accepting it all.

You see in my eyes, J is still that little scrawny baby boy who was just diagnosed. Yes, he has grown. Yes, he is smart and funny and amazing. But, despite all that…he is still my child.

Well, WAS still my child.

Now he is my teenager.

I had a hard time adjusting with him taking over his diabetes care. It was a long process, but he is now pretty independent in almost all he does. I finally agreed to give up counting his carbs for him…but how in the heck can I agree to let him give up his childhood?

He is sitting on the couch next to me right now, and I am marveling how he became this young man. I spent so many years taking care of him, attending closely to his every need…and now, he doesn’t need me as much anymore. He is independent with his school work and with his diabetes care. He can bathe himself, make his own breakfast and pick out his own clothes in the morning. He doesn’t need the help my other little boys do.

He is growing up. I can’t stop it…and like I said, I am surprisingly conflicted about the whole thing.

When M turned 13 I thought it was the coolest thing. But J turning 13 just seems like he has jumped into a portal that will take him to adulthood.

Ummm…nope, not ready for that.

I know a lot of mothers who read this wonder how you will ever give some of the D care over to your child. You wonder how you will let go. It isn’t easy…but somehow life goes on, and these things inevitably happen. Even if you are not cognizant of the immediate changes…change happens anyway.

J went on a campout last weekend with the scouts. As I was schooling him on all the things he has to do for his care he stopped me in my tracks…

He took me by the shoulders and said, “Mom! Mom! I can handle this. I’ve grown up. I know what to do.”

And he was right. He did handle it. He did know what to do.

I’m proud of who he has become. I’m thankful that he is here with us. When he was diagnosed at 8 months old, we almost lost him. Every birthday is a blessing…

There are just so darn many of them, you know?


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