« Guest Post: Pregnancy, Miscarriage, and Type 1 Diabetes. | Main | Vitreous Humour. »

Thirty-Two/Thirty-Three.

Dear Birdy,

I lost track of the days and the weeks, and I forgot I love you, Birdzone.to write you a letter at the 32 month mark.  Yes, I know you didn't realize it, and I'm pretty sure you didn't care (it's not like you slid me a note that said, "Hey, Maa.  Where's my blog letter, yo?"), but it's been bothering me, so this is a combination letter.  This is just one of the many things I've already screwed up in your little world, and I'm sure it's just one of the many things I will screw up.  So cheers!  I raise my cup of blueberries to you, my darling Bird, the very same blueberries you keep naming before you eat them.  You're a strange ranger.

We brought you to Disney World last month and watched you take in all of the magic of the aptly named kingdom.  "Magic Kingdom is a part of Disney World," you would said, nodding your head as the new authority on all-things related to The Mouse.  "And this is where Mickey Mouse lives.  And Pluno!"  (Someday you'll call him Pluto, but not today.)  Surprisingly, it was easy to travel with you this round, and I am already looking forward to bringing you somewhere new and curious.  We watched you open your presents this Christmas, laughing as you peeled the wrapping paper off the gifts strip by miniscule strip, and proud of the big, loud, "THANK YOU!" that escaped your mouth after each present.  (Also, your dad and I were highly entertained at your insistence to leave Santa's reindeer an avocado alongside the cookies.  "It's a good fat, right mama?")

You talk incessantly.  From the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you pretend to fall asleep at night, it's a steady stream of words flowing from your face.  Whether it's about what you want for breakfast ("May I please have toast eggies and a banana and maybe we play trains but I will wash my hands first.") or your thoughts about school ("We played outside and I wore my snow boots but Eric didn't want to wear his boots so we all watched him while we cried but we didn't cry we just watched him and then there were trees and we all saw the trees but not Eric because he was crying."), you are always talking.  Always.

Your temper is becoming more apparent, too, and I'm humbled by how quickly and efficiently you can tell me, "NO."  "No thank you," is my weak response, an attempt at keeping you polite as you refuse to put pants on.  You are a good listener, but holy crap are you able to manipulate me with your cries.  Sometimes it takes all I have to be firm in my resolve to not let you have something or let you do something, but when you're older and are reading these letters, you'll understand that I wanted to cave and let you eat every M&M or jump on every couch or lick every shopping cart.  I just couldn't. 

And you are understanding things in new ways now.  Like the new Dexcom system.  "This is your new Dexcom!"  When it alarms and it's low, you know the difference and you ask if I need some "glupose tabs."  And when it alarms and I'm high, you and I both throw a dirty look to the kitchen table, where the receiver is resting, and you say, "That your Dexcom.  But we can leave it out there because that's the Other Noise."  How you can tell the difference in the alarms, when your dad still can't, amazes me.  

Last night, you were asleep in your "big girl bed" (aka "crib without the sides") and I noticed that your lanky little body takes up so much more room in the bed than it used to.  I immediately started wondering when we're supposed to get you a real-deal Big Girl Bed and what should I do with the crib because we still aren't in a place where we're ready to make a firm decision on whether or not to expand our family and what happens if you suddenly outgrow your bed and will it be like that scene in Ski Patrol where the guy wakes up in the Elf Dorm and ...

Always my girl.

... and I stopped and looked at your sweet, sleeping face.  Your brown curls tumbling onto the pillow and fanning around your head.  Your hands knotted up in your soft blanket, and your tiny toenails bright pink, the result of you begging me to paint them after your bath.  And the soft, still-baby-esque scent of your hair and skin came up and grabbed me by the heart.  

Little bird, it doesn't matter what kind of bed you sleep in, or how many words you can throw into a sentence at one time.  You will always, always be my little girl.  

Love,
Mommy 

Comments

Thanks Kelli, you made me cry! Thinking of days long gone with my two girls.

Kerry,
You are such a beautiful storyteller. I can always count on tearing up when I read your letters to your daughter. It reminds me of all those years ago when my beautiful daughter was little. Birdy is so “your daughter”. I noticed how it seems she is looking at you in the picture you posted of her, with her hair tucked behind the same ear as yours. Enjoy these times. They grow up and are gone before you know it.

Beautiful!

Kerri, I was at the symbosium in Nashville this past weekend where I met you and heard you speak. I just want to say thank you so much for who you are and what you do. Thank you for being so real and genuine and your great sense of humor. I am sure you met a lot of people but i was with my daughter Amanda talking to you at the end of the conferences about the different pumps. My daughter is 25 and was just diagnosed with T1D a little over a year ago. You can imagine how her world was shattered and turned upside down. In those first few weeks it was your blog that inspired her and helped her cope. Needless to say I am very, very grateful and just wanted to say thank you and encourage you to keep up the good work. You are making an incredible difference. I will leave you with this old Chinese proverb: You are planting seeds for shade trees you will never sit under! Jeff

Yup, I lost it when i got to this part..."That your Dexcom. But we can leave it out there because that's the Other Noise." I want to call high blood sugars "the Other Noise" from now on.

I love the letters to Birdy. Still.

Also I still want to come hang out with you two. Kerri-squared/#KerriPower plus Beautiful Birdy = crazy fun times.

How dare your adorable posts speak directly to my ovaries?! That kid is awesome. I would love to be her aunt.

Also, I am pretty sure I had an identical pair of pink snow pants in 1985. Good fashion choices. :)

So touching. I loved the reference to Ski Patrol, too!

if we have followed SUM for a month or a year, we can't help but love you and your family through the candid beauty of your writing and the precious photos

Kerri, I love reading your letters to your adorable, funny, strong-minded (she gets it from you) daughter. Thank you ever so much for sharing them.

Birdie knows her Magic Kingdom. Also I am having flashbacks to Kelley's real deal big girl's bed and it is a very cool. LYMI.

Can I just inappropriately jump into your reproductive decision making process and say "do it?" Have another baby. She is too adorable not to. Don't you want more of that? And truthfully, it is my deepest regret that my daughter is an only child. About the time we were contemplating having another baby, our daughter, Molly, was diagnosed with diabetes at 2-1/2, and we put those thoughts on hold. By the time we felt we had a handle on diabetes, the window of opportunity for further babies was closed. So diabetes defeated us and I hate that. All righty, I'll just get out of your reproductive life now, no need to thank me for stopping by....and wow, Jeff Perkins, well said.

Jeff - Thank you so much for your very kind comments. It was so nice meeting you and your daughter, and if there's ever anything I can do to help as she makes sense of this disease (which I still haven't made sense of ... ;) ), please let me know. Hope to see you soon!!

JustJenny - You are too sweet. We haven't decided what we'd like to do, going forward, but I'm very happy to have this one bird to hug for now. :)

I live my 'mommy' life through other's kids as I can't have my own. And sure as sure is, I always well up when I read your words to your daughter.
Keep making me cry, Kerri, and thanks for sharing your gorgeous daughter with us.

Avocado for Santa!?! This girl cracks me up!

Another beautiful tribute to Birdy!!! Perfect timing too. I'm 12 weeks pregnant and had a rough day yesterday with lots of lows and 1 rebound high. Also scheduled about 7 appointments yesterday. I was so frustrated with this disease and how much time and monitoring goes into it, esp being pregnant (and I know it only gets more intense). But when I came to your blog and saw this post, it reminded me what I'm doing this all for. So a big THANK YOU!!!!

beautiful.

ah goosebumps! LOVE! :)

Post a comment

(All comments are moderated. Thanks for your patience!)