I’m a mom with three kids with diabetes. It is a thankless job. A job that comes with many arguments, tears and fears. A job that requires a lot of attention much of the time and a still a job that requires me to back the hell off much of the time. There are fights each week, who didn’t check often enough, who ran out of insulin, who forgot to charge their meter or insulin pump, who ate three bags of Cheetos and left the bags under the couch cushion, who forgot to bolus, who skipped PE by telling the teacher he/she was low when in fact no check was done, etc etc etc (is the three ‘etc’ redundant?). It is also a job that includes; way to go, great job, I know it’s hard, I’m sorry, you’re doing great, just take a juice with you and have fun, I’m proud of you, it’s not your fault, thank you for checking, go have fun, let’s go get ice-cream, who wants a brownie, etc etc etc. It is an exhausting job with late nights, small hour alarms, neglected house work, twitching eyes, and an anxious pounding heart – thundering in my chest as I try to navigate the crashing waves of success and not-quite success. It is a proud job with a star soccer player, a dedicated lacrosse player, excellent grades, amazing friendships, funny moments, big hugs, bumped knuckles and high-fives. It is a job of advocacy with tweets, Facebook shares, diabetes mom lunches, camp committees, letters to congress, educating the public, writing this silly blog, and conferences. It is a job of worry because often diabetes brings a sidekick called depression – for the kids with diabetes and the caregivers who struggle to be the rock. Will my kids battle mental illness along with a chronic illness? Will they feel important and whole despite the crazy that diabetes is? Am I doing all I can? Could I be better? Will my kids grow to be the badass humans I know them to be? Too many tears. Too many days feeling lost and confused and questioning every parenting moment I’ve had. I look at my kids, I watch them sleep, laugh, and play and I know that at those moments they are safe and happy. I can’t fix it all. I can’t take the pain away. I can’t take their diabetes away. All I can do is make sure they know I love them. Make sure they hear often how important they are. Make sure they know it isn’t their fault. Encourage them to always try their hardest and ask for help when they can’t. All I can do is take it a day at a time loving them despite poor choices and things bigger than they are. It is hard and some days I just don’t know I have the strength anymore but there are no alternatives. We keep swimming and spend more time rejoicing in the moments we are given. Don’t look back – we aren’t going that way. Things will not get easier but we will get better at navigating the course and reboot when needed because this shit changes all the time. My head hurts, my eye twitches, and my chest is tight. Yet I got up, I showered, I got dressed, I hugged my kids and today is a new opportunity to love those around me.