I am the first to admit that I am a bit of a food snob. Okay, those of you who know me are now laughing because I am a total food snob. :-) My bourgeoisie food tendencies run deep and began way before diabetes and are now punctuated by the constant food battles with my kid, other kids, other families, school, and generally society at large. Joy.
Now that we are well into our fourth week of kindergarten, we have been exposed to a cornecopeia of sugary and sub-par food choices in sexy packaging. Everything from vanilla shake milk (with high fructose corn syrup that is oh so nutritious) being offered in the cafeteria to PTA sponsored skate night with free sodas and ice cream sundaes and after-school fundraisers with rootbeer floats. Then there are the chocolate chip granola bars for snack along with the Shrek Go-Gurt and Capri-Sun. To be honest, if my kid didn't have this disease I would likely just eschew the battle and let him have some of this stuff. The fight would be exhausting everyday if I didn't have to do it. And although I want to run through the school halls screaming when I see candy being handed out to children for being good, I get that it is just another way for adults to show affection. Not to mention that most of us are completely addicted to the stuff. Many kids are excited to bring a special snack to school and want to have the Scooby Do fruit chews and Elmo juice boxes because it is fun.
Today while I was volunteering in Toby's class, they started passing out snack ("please let it be something he can have, please let it be something he can have...") -- prepackage crackers with cheez-whiz and Welch's grape juice (25 carbs per 6 ounces). Shit. I've started bringing Toby's own snack (so un-fun as a 5 year old) which was half a pear and cheese. As the juice was being poured in the Spiderman cups, Toby rushes up to me, "Mommy can I have some, pleeeease." Since I had just checked his sugar levels and he was 343 the answer was a sorrowful no..."but you can have some water in the Spiderman cup, honey". Tears. Big, huge sobbing tears.
I almost started crying too. God the injustice of it all! I just sat on the floor in the back of the classroom holding him while he cried and buried his little face in my shirt. I told him that he could have the crackers and cheez if he wanted along with his pear. For a moment, this was of no comfort but after a couple of minutes he smiled brushing his tears away with the back of his hand and went back to his chair. His teacher looked at me sympathetically and assured me that these big emotions only happen when I'm there for snack...not when the nurse comes in to monitor his sugar levels and give him insulin.
So it all just continues. It's an ongoing lesson in letting go, trusting, and trying to show up for my kid so he can fall apart when it all gets to be too much. And my Ego wants to be Right -- I'm Right And You Suck! You make shitty food choices for your kids! You make my life hard! It is your fault.... I can be so so small and want to throw all of my hurt at other people.
But, I'm getting better at holding my white-hot quivering ball of anger. Knowing deeply that it is not about the sugar underneath it all...it is about the world not being exactly what I want, when I want it. It's about being with my kid's pain and discomfort...as well as my own. And the big one, it's about learning how to not judge people for their choices around food or anything else. Oh right, that one is also about judging myself. :-) I'm still working on walking away from Judgment. At the moment Judgment is clinging to the bottom of my shoe like dog shit that, try as you might, you just can't clean completely off -- the nasty odor remains.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Am I good enough?
It's a slippery slope playing the "am I good enough" game as a parent. Am I a good enough mother? Have I done everything in my power to optimize my child's life: provided him with interactive and developmentally appropriate activities; friends that are diverse and engaging; schools that are enriching and loving; and of course, foods that are locally grown, organic, freshly picked by well-paid workers, and transported in vehicles that are solar-powered? Oh, I can get pretty damn tight when it comes to food and my kid.
When Toby was younger [read:pre-diabetes diagnosis] I was the mother who took nauseatingly healthy snacks to the park. The mother who felt superior to the other mothers handing out their juice boxes and individually packed gummy snacks. I was the mother who spoke loudly and firmly about the dangers of vaccinating our children and giving them processed foods. The mother who would go home at night and painstakingly make peanut butter crackers for pre-school snack (with organic sugar-free almond butter -- being mindful of those with peanut allergies -- and organic whole wheat crackers) rather than purchasing the prepackaged kind, in order to ensure that my son would remain healthy and free from the adverse effects of eating harmful foods. The mother who quite frankly believed that by being good enough I could protect my son from the dangers of life. The mother who felt like if I was organic enough, unprocessed enough, natural enough, that I would be that buffer between Toby and the rest of the world.
A well-meaning family member said to me yesterday, "You know, I read that children get childhood diabetes because of all of the high fructose corn syrup in their diets." She looked at me, as if to suggest that I somehow played in role in Toby's illness. The hot rage the welled up inside of me was like bile from the pit of my stomach. I wanted to lash out at her and scream, "DO YOU THINK I WANTED THIS FOR MY KID?! I WAS THE MOTHER WHO DIDN'T GIVE HER KID SUGAR!" I wanted to make her feel all of the pain and agony of drawing blood from my little boy 4, 5, 6, 10 times a day. I wanted her to feel my deep envy of other mothers who can drop off their children at school knowing that they won't have a seizure from being too low or too high. I wanted her to tell me that I was enough for my kid, that it wasn't my fault -- rather than feeling blamed for his illness.
Of course, the truth is that I am enough. Whether we eat processed foods or not. I have been guilty of holding tightly to my superiority in order to somehow carve out a safe place from which to judge others. The corner that I backed myself into has not served me well and being on the other side of that superiority is painful. My family member's judgment was really my own looking down at me with accusing eyes. She was likely just trying to provide me with information to help me understand an incomprehensible illness in our lives.
And, in the first 17 months of Toby's diagnosis I was quick to jump on the bandwagon of any possible cure. The long, distinguished, and occasionally ridiculous list includes: homeopathy, acupuncture, acupressure, NAET, cranio-sacral, vaccination detox, Indian herbs and tinctures, flower essences, medical food supplements, a strict no dairy diet, a strict unpasteurized dairy diet, low carb diet, positive affirmations, and a Native American healer who exorcised the evil spirits from his little body. Like any parent, I was willing to do anything to heal my little boy. And, I also felt somehow that my worth as a mother was tied to Toby's health. If I was good enough, he would not have diabetes. It sounds ludicrous to even say it aloud but it is true.
Today, I find myself in an uncharted territory of my life. I find myself loosening my vice grip on my world and trusting that my precious little mind cannot possibly know how to manipulate the world in order to keep me or my kid safe. I am opening more and more to the possibility that Toby is perfectly Toby with or without diabetes and that his health is not an outward reflection of my worth as a mother. I am also coming to understand that even if he were miraculously healed today (which I still firmly believe possible) he is still in a human body that lies prey to the physical troubles of life -- if not diabetes then cancer, injuries, RSV, you name it. We live in finite bodies which cannot be sheltered from the world in which we live. Often these bodies are our greatest teachers when we pay attention to what they have to tell us.
As I continue to wrestle with my ego who wants to be better than others, I find that the voice of my heart is becoming louder and clearer everyday. I am able to find compassion for myself and sometimes lay down that grand ruler with which I use to measure my worth and value as a mother. Stepping away from that ruler, just a bit, I can laugh of my mistakes or my social mis-steps. I can feel into life just a bit more, relax, and have compassion with myself. During these brief, but lately more frequent moments, I can feel like I am enough for me kid.
When Toby was younger [read:pre-diabetes diagnosis] I was the mother who took nauseatingly healthy snacks to the park. The mother who felt superior to the other mothers handing out their juice boxes and individually packed gummy snacks. I was the mother who spoke loudly and firmly about the dangers of vaccinating our children and giving them processed foods. The mother who would go home at night and painstakingly make peanut butter crackers for pre-school snack (with organic sugar-free almond butter -- being mindful of those with peanut allergies -- and organic whole wheat crackers) rather than purchasing the prepackaged kind, in order to ensure that my son would remain healthy and free from the adverse effects of eating harmful foods. The mother who quite frankly believed that by being good enough I could protect my son from the dangers of life. The mother who felt like if I was organic enough, unprocessed enough, natural enough, that I would be that buffer between Toby and the rest of the world.
A well-meaning family member said to me yesterday, "You know, I read that children get childhood diabetes because of all of the high fructose corn syrup in their diets." She looked at me, as if to suggest that I somehow played in role in Toby's illness. The hot rage the welled up inside of me was like bile from the pit of my stomach. I wanted to lash out at her and scream, "DO YOU THINK I WANTED THIS FOR MY KID?! I WAS THE MOTHER WHO DIDN'T GIVE HER KID SUGAR!" I wanted to make her feel all of the pain and agony of drawing blood from my little boy 4, 5, 6, 10 times a day. I wanted her to feel my deep envy of other mothers who can drop off their children at school knowing that they won't have a seizure from being too low or too high. I wanted her to tell me that I was enough for my kid, that it wasn't my fault -- rather than feeling blamed for his illness.
Of course, the truth is that I am enough. Whether we eat processed foods or not. I have been guilty of holding tightly to my superiority in order to somehow carve out a safe place from which to judge others. The corner that I backed myself into has not served me well and being on the other side of that superiority is painful. My family member's judgment was really my own looking down at me with accusing eyes. She was likely just trying to provide me with information to help me understand an incomprehensible illness in our lives.
And, in the first 17 months of Toby's diagnosis I was quick to jump on the bandwagon of any possible cure. The long, distinguished, and occasionally ridiculous list includes: homeopathy, acupuncture, acupressure, NAET, cranio-sacral, vaccination detox, Indian herbs and tinctures, flower essences, medical food supplements, a strict no dairy diet, a strict unpasteurized dairy diet, low carb diet, positive affirmations, and a Native American healer who exorcised the evil spirits from his little body. Like any parent, I was willing to do anything to heal my little boy. And, I also felt somehow that my worth as a mother was tied to Toby's health. If I was good enough, he would not have diabetes. It sounds ludicrous to even say it aloud but it is true.
Today, I find myself in an uncharted territory of my life. I find myself loosening my vice grip on my world and trusting that my precious little mind cannot possibly know how to manipulate the world in order to keep me or my kid safe. I am opening more and more to the possibility that Toby is perfectly Toby with or without diabetes and that his health is not an outward reflection of my worth as a mother. I am also coming to understand that even if he were miraculously healed today (which I still firmly believe possible) he is still in a human body that lies prey to the physical troubles of life -- if not diabetes then cancer, injuries, RSV, you name it. We live in finite bodies which cannot be sheltered from the world in which we live. Often these bodies are our greatest teachers when we pay attention to what they have to tell us.
As I continue to wrestle with my ego who wants to be better than others, I find that the voice of my heart is becoming louder and clearer everyday. I am able to find compassion for myself and sometimes lay down that grand ruler with which I use to measure my worth and value as a mother. Stepping away from that ruler, just a bit, I can laugh of my mistakes or my social mis-steps. I can feel into life just a bit more, relax, and have compassion with myself. During these brief, but lately more frequent moments, I can feel like I am enough for me kid.
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