The battle is making me weary.
My armor is dented.
My weapons dull from constant wear.
My will is nothing to be depended on.
One minute I'm running into the fray, our battle cry screaming from my tonsils.
The next minute I'm curled up in a ball hoping no one notices me.
I'm going through the motions...dripping with emotional defeat, but not giving up to the numbers.
I beat every one of them. One number at a time. But I can't help but wish that the numbers would be whisked away...flushed...cured.
For now and for always they continue to swirl around my brain. The parade of numbers marching ever forward.
They are constant. No break. Ever.
Emotional roller coaster much?
But as I do the night check and see those sleeping faces...consumed in peace. It is fuel for my soul.
Those faces keep me sane. They make the battlefield seem like only a bad dream.
It is their laughter that frees my guilt.
I will keep moving forward. I will keep blogging my way through the emotions of it all.
I'll zig and zag my way through the number minefield and I'll find safety in our ratios.
I can do this. With my boys by my side...I CAN and will do this.
Self affirming pep talks help. Writing it out makes sense of it all.
This my friends is what you get after the 10:00pm check with three boys who are low.
Sometimes I just need to talk my way out of the tears.
This will wrap up day 4658 or our diabetic life...and day 26 of National Health Blog Posting Month.
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