We knew we were in for a lifetime of blood tests, needles, and endocrinologists. We knew this was T1D.
I promise to you that when I look back on you being two, I won’t remember today. I’ll remember you. And you are absolutely wonderful.
We tend to equate growing up with loss: a loss of innocence, of helplessness, of cuteness. But that’s not how children experience it.
I keep coming back to these tiny feet that belong to a girl who is going through the “terrible twos.”
What better word to hear than the one that links us together?
I have read that in order to get the little people in our lives to do what we want them to, we should offer them choices.
This seemingly natural reflex is new—wiping off his mother's kiss—and it was not something I had expected until years down the road.
What is behind all this speeded up, super-achiever, activity overload anyway? Are we creating capacity or maxing it out? And who is it for?
How would you feel if I came up to you and pinched your cheek?
And this is how I became the happy mom of the tantrumming toddler.