It's the sleepovers that get me, I think. They let my brain run wild.
She gets invited to them more and more. It's what 10 year old girls do. They sleepover.
And she is prepared. It's not that she's not.
I have faith in her ability to care for herself and do what she needs to do.
But I end up putting some of my worry onto her, and that's not fair.
It's what I am thinking that's the problem. It's what I ask of her.
You can eat whatever you want, honey, just dose. Promise me you will dose.
And she looks at me like I am smoking crack.
Of course I will dose Mom!
How often do I have to check, Mom?
I'm fine if you check just before bed, and again before breakfast. Otherwise you can roll with what Dex is telling you.
I know, you don't want to check with all your friends there. It's takes time away from the fun.
Please be safe though. You know sometimes Dex lies.
Yes, Mama, I know. I run high, I check. I run low, I check.
I tell her to call me at home before 'bedtime,' whenever that may be.
The phone rings at 9:45 PM.
I answer on the first half-ring.
We are in our jammies Mom, gonna watch the One Direction DVD.
I just checked. I'm 124 with my PDM.
Dex says 116 with a diagonal arrow down.
IOB is .25. We had birthday cake. I guessed 30, it was a big slice.
Should I have a juice?
Damn it. If she is at home, no, no juice. Ride it out, see if the beautific numbers hold.
But she is there, and I am here and the arrow says down.
Yes honey, have the juice.
Remember to put Dex under your pillow tonight. You will hear and feel it there.
Keep your juices and granola bars nearby.
Yes, Mom. Yes, I KNOW.
I know you know, silly bear. Have fun.
Call if you need anything.
And before my own bedtime, a night of sleeping the whole night through, which I know will not be true, because this Mama wakes at 2 AM like clockwork, D-daughter here or not.
It's my ritual.
It's my way of knowing.
I say a prayer.
That Dex wakes her.
That the 124 holds steady for her.
That this sleepover, her sleepover, is not touched by a Mama's worry.