It was a week before Easter a few years ago and, as tends to happen quite often, I was enjoying a cup of coffee and a good chat with my long-time dear friend Anne. You see, that year she “joined the club” when her son (the baby who won “youngest walker” on my daughter’s JDRF walk to cure team just 11 years prior) was diagnosed with Type 1.
This day, she wanted to talk about what was weighing on her mind: “Moira. What do I do about the Easter Basket?”
“Oh that’s easy,” I told her in my usual D-Mom who’s-been-through-it-all tone. “Get him a pony. A real, live pony.”
I was only kind of kidding. Because from the start, there was something about that silly Easter Basket that tripped me up, brought me to a strange level of dread and in the end, opened me up to the challenging sport we call “overcompensating.”
First of all, I do realize that today a kid with diabetes can eat chocolate eggs. And Peeps. And even those gross Cadbury Eggs (well . . . I think they’re gross anyway). But my daughter was diagnosed back in the dark ages of Regular, NPH and meal planning. So really, that first year, the idea of a bunch of candy in a basket completely freaked me out.
(An aside: the idea of the Easter Bunny as a whole completely freaked out both my kids. When I brought my first one to sit on his lap at the mall, she [ about two at the time] looked at him [which at her height was directly in his mouth] and screamed “Mommy! The Easter Bunny SWALLOWED a PERSON!” My younger, the one with diabetes, told me when she was about three, “Mom, I’m just not comfortable with all these costumed characters having access to my bedroom.” Both girls had a point.)
Anyway, I had to figure out how to make Easter fun without so much of the chocolate. I mulled it over and then did what somehow came naturally: Bought her a bike.
Yeah, that’s right. A bike, in “D-guilt currency”, was somehow equivalent to seven chocolate eggs, a line of Peeps and a chocolate bunny.
I tell that story because somehow, that first Easter “basket” in D-life launched me into a world I seem to be stuck in: the world of overcompensating for things that, if I thought about them a bit longer, might not matter so very much.
I know. I’m a good mom. I just wanted to make my daughter happy. That’s why, her first Christmas with D (back in a time when sugar free candy was not everywhere and also a time when I did not realize sugar free candy had pretty much as many carbs. Duh-oh) I spent weeks searching – on foot and on the phone – for sugar free candy canes. Never mind that my daughter hates anything minty and is not a fan of hard candy; I was going to find her candy canes so she’d have a Christmas just like everyone else’s, gosh darn it.
I never found them. Could be why she started getting Coach purses at a very young age.
So what’s a mother (or loved one or dear friend) to do? I knew, almost from the start, it might not have been a good road to go down. Mind you, Veruca Salt is kind of a hero of mine (“Dahhhhhhhhdieeeeee! I want the goose that laid the golden egg and I want it nowwwwww!”) but in no way did I want her living in my house. I loved the book “The Secret Garden,” but never did I want my daughter to become a snarling spoiled wretch in need of saving like that little boy in it. And there I was, egging her along.
I’ve tried to put it in check but I have to admit, even with her at 19 years old, I find myself dealing in D-currency. The Diaversary always involves a crazy-awesome gift and a nice dinner out (as well as a gift for my non D daughter). And even with my deep fear that what I’m doing might not be right, there I was telling a friend to do the same.
I think part of it is subliminal. We spend all this time and all these years telling our kids to just “live a normal life.” We ask them to accept the minute-to-minute challenges of life with diabetes without much complaint and without a big tadoo. Then at strange little times (like shopping for an Easter basket) it hits us. This just stinks. And we react in whatever positive way we can.
I guess in the end, if we raise our kids to act like nice people and be appreciative, it’s okay to spoil them a bit from time to time. Somehow, my daughter has not turned into Veruca and does not expect huge gifts in her Easter basket (and I’ve made an attempt to scale back. I mean, books, cute shirts on sale and some inexpensive baubles are fine too – although still more pricey that candy eggs).
As for Anne? She has always been a wiser soul than me. She laughed at my pony suggestion and then went her own way.
And put an X Box 360 in his basket instead.
D-currency. How does it add up for you?
Oh, I hear you, I hear you! We just bought our overweight 10-year-old a kayak for Easter! Even the paddle won’t fit in a basket. That’s a whole lot of Cadbury eggs and peeps, but a better investment in long-term enjoyment — and her own good efforts to trim down.
It is ok to spoil them a little bit. People asked me if we felt guilty walking past all the people in line @ Disney with our “magical” Fastpass Kyle got. “Hell no” I replied. “When they go through what he has gone through since he was 18 months old, then I will feel guilty.”
Since we also lived in the times of NPH and planning every carb, my main form of overcompensating was to tell my 10 year old that since he had to NOT EAT so many things, he could order whatever he wanted when we went out to dinner.
Lobster. Soft-shell crabs. Filet Mignon. Surf-n-turf. Eggs Benedict with out of season asparagus. Always the most expensive on the menu.
I don’t regret it. He will eat all kinds of exotic foods that my grandkids won’t even try.
But I ate a lot of side-salads.
Just have to say….love all your stories! I can so relate to the lobster story, and if there wasn’t lobster on the menu, the kids would say can we go somewhere else? The x-box story was the same for us and then games for it every time there was blood work involved. I would put money in the plastic Eggs, then stick them in balloons and blow them up. They had to butt pop them to get the money eggs out. It was more about having fun. I would get one white chocolate bunny wrapped in foil and the three kids would share it. A few pixie sticks, candy cigarettes, and wax filled bottles of koolaid and sugar free sweedish fish when I could find them. That way there wasn’t a lot of candy to go around and worry about blood sugars and they got my favorite candies from when I was a kid. I have also bought round melt chocolates and plastic molds and made my own chocolate lollipops which went over well. Melt chocolate over nuts or pretzels and break into bark pieces can be a fun thing to do with the kids. Our Rec. Dept. in the city always put on an easter egg hunt. The eggs were hard boiled and colored. No candy involved. They would put a number on some them and you would get to pick legos or some Wham-o toy or a kite, or play dough. My kids were good at finding numbered eggs, so that was always a nice Easter bonus. They did what other kids did that day.
I am so grateful that my sweet one was diagnosed in 2008 and her endo said, “Let her have M&M’s, she’s a kid!” We don’t deprive Hannah of occasional sweets and rarely use SF products. She has an excellent A1C. We teach healthy choices, portion control and model an active lifestyle for her. The Easter bunny is bringing her and her non-d brother a new pair of Rainbows along with a few sweet treats! And Moira, you rock for sharing the realities of coping with type 1 diabetes!
My 4 years old son Jacob was dx 15 months ago and has been pumping for the last 8 months. Since our endo told us it was possible for him to eat sweets moderately I don’t feel the need to use D-currency. Through all this D adventure I feel so bless for Humalog, pumps and a very reasonnable sweet little boy! ;0)
Ok, the Coach purse really resonated with me…I had a mother say, she is such a girly girl and always has such cute (Coach) purses. I said not really she hates carrying a purse but needs to have her supplies all the time so I make them as “cute” and “expensive” as possible : ) I say spoiled is ok….rotten is not!
I consider myself “lucky” that I and my family live in Ghana, W. Africa whenever Easter and Halloween roll around. I have enough trouble subduing my 10 year told T1 who has taken as gospel my mantra, “as long as she takes insulin for it she can have it.” Oy, do I wish I’d never uttered those words. My “too sweet” girl would be far harder to control if she had easy access to those amazing Peeps, jelly beans and candy corn. (Or maybe I’d just have to learn to be a better disciplinarian — I don’t know.)