I like to quietly test the kids blood on the weekend without waking them so they can sleep in if they choose. This morning was no different for a Sunday. Sneak in, prepare the meter, ever so gently find a hand and sneakily steal some blood from an unsuspecting finger. They rarely wake up- I’m a blood sugar ninja dmom- you’ve probably heard about us…
Except , this morning, I had one of those moments when I looked down at my teenage boys hand in mine and thought of all the tests before this one. All the times I had held his hand while he slept. How that hand is growing and growing and growing. It’s been twelve and half years or so I’ve been poking these fingers.
This morning isn’t a different day, not an anniversary day, the blood sugar number wasn’t good or bad, high or low, he’s not sick or having a growth spurt. The summer heat hasn’t changed his insulin requirements sending me into tail spins of how to figure out new ratio’s.
It’s just a normal abnormal morning.
It’s just a small moment of normal abnormal that makes me so thankful to hold that growing hand.
