a little crafty nest

a magical day

It was a beautiful morning here, with Papa home (for good!) and the feeling of magic in the air.  It was so very exciting for all three littles to delight in mama-made bunnies, a book for each of them, seeds to start, and a plant for their garden.  This year the Easter bunny generously left a single, mini chocolate egg and because it was such a treat, they savoured every lick...and tried so very hard to squirrel little morsels away in the coloured foil, only to be brought out again moments later and licked once more.  (I couldn't help but think of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory).  There have been many holidays when I have bought some chocolate to fill a stocking or a basket or a Halloween bag...and then decided that they didn't know what they were missing, so why ruin a good thing?  I was asked at an Easter party yesterday if we didn't do chocolate because Sunshine has Type 1 Diabetes and I explained that she can indeed eat anything everyone else eats (as long as we match the carbohydrates in the food with insulin)...but we have always avoided sugar, long before diabetes arrived.

The rest of our day was spent on the land, playing by the pond and digging in the garden.  All week long, the sun has shone warmly down on us and we have been outside all day, nearly every day.  Now with Papa home for the whole week, we will continue with our chicken coop and with building a few more raised beds. 

While the children planted their tulips this afternoon after our picnic, I had a nostalgic moment wondering if this is the last of our "magical" holidays as Forrest is on the cusp of leaving behind some parts of the fairy world.  Will he still believe in St. Nicholas in eight months or will this dreamy veil lift a little to see with eyes anew?  It is so very poignant to watch your child trying to leap ahead and be around the next corner, chasing after the next dream when, as a parent, you just want to hold onto them and have them linger a little longer in your safe, loving embrace. 

Those days are most assuredly on their way, and it will all indeed come to pass as it should...but today...well, today was just perfect.  I think I'll stick with today ~ for now.

 

weekending

A favourite request by my children is to go see the horses.  Our neighbours (no pun really intended), who are dear friends to us, have two horses just across the road below our place.  Usually, it is Papa who wanders down there with the three littles, often hooking up with our friend's two children.  But with Papa away so much, we have been making the horsey pilgrimmage a few times a week...these photos are from two separate trips. 

I can't describe the heart swells of happiness I had watching my sweet girl haul her brother around for most of the walk.  This is a very rare experience, as she usually tires  out easily from too much exertion.  Her blood sugars may plummet, and we often stop several times to adjust her insulin pump, or pull out a banana or juice to keep her going til we get to the safety of our home.  A small excursion can often be momentous. 

And so, watching her determination to keep pulling her (not-so-light) brother along was a simple, beautiful thing.

hmmmm...this doesnt' look quite right!

I hope your weekend was filled with outdoorsy meanderings, too!

pink elephant ~ two years

Our family's "elephant in the room" is a pink one.  Our 4 year old daughter was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes in January 2011 at the age of 2 1/2 years old, and it has changed our lives forever.  Every season, I post a little update on how we are coping with her condition.

 

Two years.

As in, we have lived with T1D for two years.  Almost half of her whole life.

winter 2012 ~ a year ago when she was 3 1/2 years old

And while I'd love to begin writing this with great optimism that makes it seem like we are sitting astride this wild diabetes beast and taming it...that would not be the truth. 

So, instead, I just spent the last hour writing it all out for myself ~ and then I deleted it.  I processed through it all, and with a push of the button, I sent it away.  (Oh, would that I could do that to diabetes!)

The truth is, who really wants to hear it? 

In a nutshell, this is hard.  It will always be hard.  And for now, we are shouldering all the harder parts that are in our power to give our daughter a more normal childhood.  Really, what parent wouldn't? 

spring ~ 3 3/4 years old

It hurts my heart how lonely this journey has been on so many levels.  I worry endlessly about how Sunshine will grow up coping with such life-threatening decisions.  I wish for nothing more than she will live a long life with no complications.  And I pray hard that my boys will not develop T1D.

summer 2012 ~ 4 years old

Yet, my Truth is alive and determined and thriving.  She snowboards, skates, and wrestles her brothers.  She has a clever mind and a sharp wit.  She loves anything that is pink, purple or from a ballet.  She is silly, endearing and just about the best cuddler you can imagine.

She is perfect. 

That is my Truth.

 

pink elephant ~ autumn 2012 ~ my hero

Our family's "elephant in the room" is a pink one.  Our 4 year old daughter was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes in January 2011 at the age of 2 1/2 years old, and it has changed our lives forever.  Every season, I post a little update on how we are coping with her condition.

 

November is World Diabetes Month.  If you are a D-mama like me, that means you take this time to share the facts and statistics about type 1 diabetes with anyone who is willing to listen.

And it is worth listening to, because there is something happening to our children.  Like canaries in a mine, our children are showing us that something most definately is happening in our world today.  There are far too many little ones being diagnosed with this wretched condition ~ it's as simple as that.

And so, I share.  I tell it like it is without any hesitation.  Mostly I get a lot of caring souls willing to hear me out, and hopefully pass on the truths about type 1 diabetes.  Often, I will hear that I am a strong mama, that my daughter is lucky to have me.  These comments are kind and come from a great place of compassion, but I know better.  I am not strong.  I crumble a lot.  I worry incessantly.  And when I hear some of those other stories about living with diabetes, my heart aches with an intensity that could shatter glass. 

The truth is, as a mama, any mama, you do what you can for your child...without hesitation.  You surround them with love and comfort and opportunities for growth in all aspects of their life.  You hold their hand and lead them through life's challenges with the hope that one day you will walk side by side, and then one day further, they will walk on ahead.

And as a mama of a child with T1D, you also learn how to entice them out from their hiding place to give them their shots.  You learn how to pin their bodies down to deliver their insulin.  You learn to answer the difficult questions of "Why me?" and "Will I always have diabetes, mama?" without a waver in your voice or a tear in your eye.  You learn to hold on tight because they may not wake up in the morning.  You learn who your family and friends really are...who will step up and be there to walk by your side, and who will walk away.

I am not strong.  I am no different than you and if your child were to be diagnosed with this condition, you also would do all you can to keep them alive.  This I know to be true.

In October, my little girl was chosen to be the JDRF Ambassador for the city where my parent's live.  Both my mom and dad work hard to spread awareness and raise money to fund a cure for type 1 diabetes.  Both my parents are a great source of strength when I falter...they show me that you are never too old to parent your child.  I want to be like them when I grow up.

With their support, I made this video for the JDRF Gala we went to that honoured my daughter, Sunshine.  Thank you for taking a moment to watch it.

  

November is World Diabetes Month.  And every single day, my greatest hero I'll ever know greets me with a kiss and whispered words of "I love you, mama". 

She is my strength to keep going to find a cure. 

And I am reminded...there is no greater love than what a mama has for her child.

a little road trip

I disappeared...and returned.  Maybe you didn't even miss me, but I was gone for almost a week on a little road trip to visit my folks and attend a fancy fundraising gala for JDRF.

It took me nearly twice as long to pack up my knitting basket as it did to pack up my children and myself.  Well now, I wasn't about to sit still for nearly six hours without making my needles go clickety-clack.  A knitter's got to pack properly, you know...yarn, notes, needles and some to spare, markers, measuring tape, and scissors.

I was up til 1am before our trip spinning some special yarn...but you'll hear more about that later.

We had so much fun with Nana and Pops...pumpkin carving, bike riding, storytelling, shopping, starry night walks (well, one but it was wonderful), and visiting some hilarious alpacas!  And then there was the big Gala...for a cause dear to all our hearts.

And away she goes...

And then we got ready for why we went to the city...the JDRF fundraising gala and auction.  Each of the teddy bears were given to those who donated large amounts of money to find a cure for type 1 diabetes ~ it was quite something!

I loved watching my mom get dressed up for events when I was little...so does Sunshine!

I was so proud of my girl for being this year's honourary ambassador for type 1 diabetes.  I made a little video that was shown about life with T1D and I will share it here on November 9 ~ World Type 1 Diabetes Day. 

And that knitting basket I packed...it came home holding a few more items made...

I love road trips (when I'm not the driver)!

moments from the last few weeks

Life's busy-ness right now hasn't allowed for consistent on-line time, and so my photos have gotten a little back-logged.  But there are some good ones in there...

When my parents were visiting, the youngest and the oldest skewered some shish-ke-bobs together. 

I usually am having such a good time visiting, that I rarely take photos at the family gatherings.  I need more Nana pictures ~ just warning you now, Mom, in advance of the next visit.

Last week, the children played a lengthy game that went on for hours.  This is such a treat, that is beginning to happen more and more often.  The theme of the game changes, but it involves lots of discussing and compromising and organizing.  This time, Sunshine and Forrest got married, went on a honeymoon, and had a baby.  I was surprised to see Sunshine had her baby in the hospital, because all three of my children were born in our home.  They told me there were complications and the mama needed an IV (I think diabetes was involved ~ interesting how play can be therapeutic.  Often, I hear Sunshine declare, while in her role, "I have diabetes!" and Forrest, also role-playing, will ask her what that means, and she'll tell him she needs insulin because her pancreas is sleeping.)  These two spent a long time getting wedding outfits, cardboard rings cut, flowers gathered, and a hospital room made under the telephone desk.  Huckley was a sometime "baby", complete with fake crying.  Either that, or a dog who "woofs".

We also went strawberry picking, squeezing in a last visit to the (very dry) farm nearby.  In half an hour, we managed to pick enough for a batch of jam and a few months of freezer berries.  I have such good helpers!

The children have been busy nearly every day searching for Mr. Toad and Little Toad.  They live in the rock wall outside our front door and all three kids have put a lot of energy into making a space for the toads in a box...complete with pond, cave and logs.  We don't allow caged animals here, but this is more like a holding pen for the afternoon.  Mr. Toad always gets put back, or finds his own way when the children aren't looking. 

Huckley delights in the swing as much as Sunshine did at this age...such joy in his whole body as he sways back and forth, back and forth. 

And finally, Miss Sunshine just wants to be biking right now.  She loves her well-loved second-hand (or even third- or fourth-hand) bike. 

I love her bike gear, from head to toe!

Enjoy your weekend, friends!

pink elephant ~ summer 2012 ~ managing

Our family's "elephant in the room" is a pink one.  Our 4 year old daughter was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes in January 2011 at the age of 2 1/2 years old, and it has changed our lives forever.  Every season, I post a little update on how we are coping with her condition.

This summer marks the one year anniversary of Sunshine wearing an insulin pump.  This expensive little gadget allows her to have an IV drip of insulin all day long, with "boluses" for food at meals and snacks.  I cannot tell you how it has transformed our lives...really, facing up to 15 injections a day for her was so disheartening and downright depressing.

Many people have asked us if we are doing better with diabetes...is it "under control" now?  I try my best to answer all the questions as objectively as possible, but this one gets me every time.  Type 1 Diabetes is essentially uncontrollable.  You manage it.  You struggle with it, every day and every night for the rest of your life.  One day blood glucose (BG) numbers may be fairly in range only to awake to extreme highs followed by dangerous lows that can send my daughter into a life-threatening situation.  Control?  Any D-Mama will laugh if you ask them if they have diabetes under control.  Those two words do not belong in the same sentence.

One thing that has been really positive for me is that I have offered to help new families diagnosed with T1D.  It was something I really needed in those first few months after my daughter's diagnosis.  I contacted the local hospital and our pediatrician when I heard a new family with an 8 year old daughter had been diagnosed ~ we live in a fairly small community.  We talked on the phone several times before going over to their farm for a delicious meal.  While the two girls are too different to make any real connection at this age, it was good for them to see that they are not alone.  And a wonderful bonus to the dinner was that the girl's each have brothers the same age.  Forrest and the other child got along like old friends, racing about the farm, boisterous and loud and so very boyish!  Sometimes it is easy to forget that these siblings are affected, too.  Responsibility, guilt, and fear of their own diagnosis are pretty normal feelings for these children.  It feels good for Forrest to connect with someone who may become a more solid friend over time, someone who understands the change that has taken place in their family.

As Sunshine gets a little older and more articulate, the harder questions are beginning.  I have been dreading the days when she would ask the inevitable "Will I always have diabetes?" or "Why can't I just eat when I want to eat?" or the dreaded "Why do I have diabetes?" .  It began before her birthday in the Spring and we were driving to town and my normally chatty girl asked if she would still have diabetes when she turned four.  After picking up the kazillion pieces of my shattered heart, I told her yes, she will.  Her shoulders sagged and she quietly said, "Oh" and never said another word for the rest of the trip.  More recently, she wanted to be naked with her brothers in the kiddie pool in our yard, but she was attached to her insulin pump.  She stood there, holding her pump as far away from her body as the tubes would allow, screaming at me to "Take it away, mama!  I don't want diabetes anymore!"  I'm not sure how to navigate our way through this part...no one gave me a manual for it.  I do know I have to be very sensitive to how things are worded, because for a four year old, they take things so literally.  At the Walk for a Cure in June, we told the children we were walking with my parents and sister's and brother's families to find a cure for diabetes.  Why was I so surprised when Sunshine wanted to know, driving home afterwards, if they found the cure and could take the diabetes away now.  Gosh, I'd give anything to make it so!

Type 1 Diabetes became a part of our life nineteen and a half months ago.  I am trying with all my heart and soul to not make it take over our life.  It definately governs a lot of it...where we go, for how long, what we take with us, etc.  But it will not be the adjective in our lives.  We will not be the diabetic family.  We are a family who crafts and plays and gardens and hikes and homeschools, and who lives with a condition called Type 1 Diabetes.

This summer season has been full of lots of ups and a few downs.  But we are living our life, adjusting to what normal feels like to us. 

And for the most part, it feels pretty good.

yarning along in the car

I've been pretty quiet around here lately due to the ongoing attempt to night wean my littlest, and a short and sweet vacation.  We packed up the car and drove most of the day to my parent's home for a little family reunion with my sibling's and their families.  Also, it was a big fundraising weekend for JDRF, doing a walk-a-thon to raise money for a cure for Type 1 Diabetes.  Our team was called Sunshine for Summer (named after my little gir)l,  and I was so touched to have, in addition to my own family, but my parents, my cousins, my sister's family, and my brother's family all together because they love my sweet girl enough to show her they want to find a cure. 

cousins Sunshine and Ruby...best buddies!

It was lots of fun, and I met another family with a 5 year old who was diagnosed the week before Sunshine.  It was wonderful to chat about how they are coping and managing their daughter's condition.  Truly, networking with other families going through a similar experience is so reassuring!

And those uplifting moments seem to coincide with the harder moments, too.  Yesterday, we also had our endo appointment (twice a year visit with a pediatric endocrinologist to discuss Sunshine's diabetes) and on the way there, from the back seat of the car, Sunshine asked me a question that made my heart break into a million pieces.  I knew this day would come when she would be old enough to ask, but it threw me for a loop when she asked because I wasn't expecting it.  "Mama, how come I still have diabetes when yesterday we walked for a cure.  Didn't we get that cure?"  Thank goodness she couldn't see my face from the backseat.  Ah, how literal our little ones can be.  Why ever I didn't think of that is beyond me...and now I know to be very mindful of how I phrase such things with her again.

During the long drive, and between consoling my impatient, carseat-loathing youngest son and inserting yet another Sparkle Story, I managed to knit a row here and there.  I am working on the Fisherman Sweater for Forrest and I finally finished the body and have begun the sleeves. 

For some reason, I had a lot of difficulty with the shoulder area as I made it a bit roomier to ensure it will fit Forrest into next spring.  I am a little worried the yarn is too thick, though it calls for this weight in the pattern.  While on our mini-vacation, I stopped by a wonderful yarn store and bought more wool to make Huckley the same sweater in green (called Forest green - hee hee).  Sunshine also picked out some lovely purple Fleece Artist for an autumn vest.

I have been slowly savouring a great book, Watership Down by Richard Adams.  Somehow, in high school, I managed to miss reading this novel and then I was gifted this copy recently.  What a good story!!!  It is about a particular warren of rabbits who relocate after humans force them from their community.  The rabbits have a language, a hierarchy, a spirituality that Adams makes credible.  Though, you know, in high school, I am not so sure I would have enjoyed Watership Down nearly as much as I am now.  I think this is because of my own life experiences that can now relate to many of the experiences by these rabbits.  While it is a little slow-going, I am loving the adventures of Hazel, Fiver, and the others.

Thank you, Ginny, for inspiring another wonderful yarn-along!

moments from the week

Lots of outdoor time this week, though our best day went unrecorded.  In fact, it was our best day in weeks!  We visited another homeschooling family who live directly across the river from us and so we naturally call them, The Boys From Across The River.  We visited their homestead and it was such a perfectly wonderful afternoon, none of us wanted it to end!  The sun shone in a cloudless blue sky, the snow was so strong and icy, we walked on and on over hill and dale without breaking through.  The six children and us two mamas saw an eagle, ducks, and six swans!  The littlest two boys played alongside each other at the river's edge, content in their own worlds, shoulders nearly touching.  My daughter tried to keep up to the three older boys who ran and hollered and investigated and spied...it was sheer delight!  And, sadly, not one single photo.  This wonderful afternoon will be embedded in our hearts for weeks to come!

However, there were some photos from outdoor play around here...

A visit to our neighbour's horses.  Danny-boy is so beautiful, and becoming so friendly with my children.  Forrest is teaching me how to feed him properly so your fingertips don't get nipped.

This is how we travel for a winter's walk.  I pull littlest (or two) in the sled, though I'm trying to encourage Sunshine to walk more.  This day, she walked the whole way, although we had to turn around far too soon as I didn't prepare for all her activity and she had a diabetic low.  Usually, I have a juicebox, crackers, and a banana with me, even to just cross our creek into the meadow on our own property.  I don't know what I was thinking to venture so far from home with just a juice!  Here she is doing what she does rather frequently lately, sipping a juicebox to bring her back into range.  I never would have thought I would feed my children juice boxes, let alone several in one week!!! 

We ended up turning around at this point, a 15 minute walk home.  It was a beautiful day, clear skies and crunchy snow.  Little signs of the seasons changing are becoming apparent...birdsong, creeks murmuring, and even pussy willows peeking out!
With all this spring anticipation, Huckley heads straight to the sandbox while I look for snowdrops beneath our beloved oak tree.  We will have to wait a bit longer, which is just fine, as usually the snowdrops don't arrive for another few weeks yet. 

I used our shovel to clear an area for Sunshine to get back on her swing.  Oh, does she soar when she is in her happy place!

And finally, the tooth fairy has made not one, but two appearances here in the span of three days!  Forrest's top tooth was dangling about for weeks, and the night before Valentine's Day, it popped out.  I still have to take a photo of him with both top teeth out, which is so darn cute!!!  I'm having a hard time not smiling when he speaks right now...it is simply adorable!

And yet another wondrous thing...Forrest found his mama-made hat from the fall!  He wore it for two weeks or so in October and then it disappeared.  I usually don't worry too much about this, knowing it will eventually show up, but this time, after one month, then another passed, I sadly dismissed it as truly lost.  I really liked this hat ~ my favourite on Forrest so far.  Well, we were in town at the toy store, of all places, and Forrest came running over to me telling me he spied his hat...it was behind the cash register and had been for four whole months!!!  Oh, lucky day!!!  However, in four months my son's head sure did grow and so now, this hat has been handed down to Huckley.  But what matters is that it's all in the family, right?

Have a wonderful weekend, dear friends!

moments from the week

The January cold snap arrived this week, with a pile of snow...and more on the way!  It was easier getting the children outdoors, with all the fresh powder possibilities beckoning. 

Lots of skating at the local outdoor rink behind a little restaurant near us.

Yesterday we arrived long before our homeschool friends and the ice was covered in a few inches of fresh snow.  Using a shovel, we made a series of meandering trails to skate along ~ perfect for playing "tag".  My sweet girl is now skating on single blade skates and her sense of balance is incredible.  In her very own Sunshine fashion, she refuses to use a chair for support, but insists on doing it her way, at her own pace.  This is her third day skating, and she is now beginnng to glide.

And this eager, active boy is so happy to be playing hockey!  Hard to believe two weeks ago he was using the chair for support.  It is a real testament to homeschooling as we have been spending a lot of time here during the week when most of the local children are in school.  I have felt really good about it, knowing that my six year old simply wants to be active...all the time!   Some days we skate with just one other homeschool family, wth six little people on the rink...and other days we are here when there are more than forty people on the ice!

Last weekend, we had our diabetes trainer come visit our home to set up Sunshine with one more piece of technology.  I think I'll save the details for February's Pink Elephant, though I will share that in less than one week we are seeing the benefits of using the sensor, a continuous glucose monitoring system.  It has taken us several days to get used to all the bells and alarms that ring, but it is worth it! This is a photo of Forrest playing with Lenny the Lion's pump and sensor.  Diabetes nurses use this stuffie to help the little ones feel more comfortable with injections and needles, and indeed, it works! 

Housekeeping in the little playspace beneath our stairs.

Playdough pie...just like mama's.

Inventorying our seeds from last year to get ready to make some orders soon.  With all this fresh snow, it's hard to believe it's almost time to begin our starts.  Though, if the truth be told, I'm always thinking about the garden ~ all year round!

Adventures in a boat in the middle of a lake.

I'm not sure words are necessary here.  It speaks directly to my heart.

 Friends, have a wintery, snowy weekend full of fun!

What are your moments from your week? 

pink elephant ~ january 2012 ~ 365 days later

Our family's "elephant in the room" is a pink one.  Our 3 year old daughter was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes in January 2011 at the age of 2 1/2 years old, and it has changed our lives forever.  Every month, I post a little update on how we are coping with her condition

So very much may happen in the space of one year.  I look at where my family was 365 days ago, and it seems surreal.  That other life.  The one I often wish we had again, but I have slowly learned to let those dreams slip away.

I have been dreading this day for several weeks now.  Well, actually, I think for months as I have been counting the months since diagnosis, tallying them off like little signposts marking where we have journeyed from, and how far we have to go.

I have wondered how to mark this day.  Some families have a party, some don't bother to acknowledge it at all.  Many grieve all over again, like me. 

I look back over this year of struggles and of tears, and yes, there have been some small triumphs.  These little gems of success that I hold like treasures in my heart.  Rather than easily slipping into melancholy all over again, I want to remember what we have gained this past year.

First and foremost, I feel so enriched by the people in my life who have held me up and kept me from toppling.  My family has been very helpful to me, and has actively begun a lifelong campaign to find a cure.  I have also been blessed with some new friends, many whom I probably will never meet in person.  But their friendship is a beacon of light to me.  They understand what my family is going through because they, too, are going through it themselves.  Whether it be through Diapers and Diabetes or through this humble little blog, I have met some strong, wonderful, compassionate people who have reached out at precisely the right moment.

In the hospital, we were told that the pokes would get easier.  Having a fear of needles(maybe even a phobia) since childhood, I was absolutely doubtful.  It took me three days to do my first poke on my daughter, blinded with panic and tears running down my face.  Hard to believe now as Sunshine will nonchalantly stick her finger out to me as she carries on a conversation with her brother, or continues to read a book, or even in while she is drifting off to sleep.  Though, she still tells me, almost every time, "Oooh, that one hurt, mama"!  I've done a little math and that amounts to about 5500 pokes endured over these last 365 days!

Countless times in the hospital, we were told by doctors, nurses, social workers, friends, family, and other families living with T1D that life would be so much better in six months.  I held onto that number, waiting, virtually holding my breath.  Six months came and went, and it still was so hard.  That was when we got the insulin pump and it felt like being diagnosed all over again.  Hell is not too strong of a word for what life felt like then.  But then, at nine months, ten months, I felt...ok.  I realized I wasn't crying every day.  I realized I wasn't worrying constantly.  I realized we were venturing out more often.  I realized life was becoming more normal.  They were right, those know-it-alls!  Thank goodness, they were right.

Perhaps the most dramatic change over the course of the year, is within myself.  No one else can see this change.  Just me.  I notice that I am having the power to turn off my emotions if I feel a surge of sadness heading my way.  Rather than let the tsunami tear me to pieces, I simply say "Nope.  Not right now, thanks.  I'm not up to drowning right at this minute.  Try again some other time, buster."  Anyone knowing me at all would understand why this is so significant.  I'm very, ahem, easily persuaded to let my emotions run amok.  My whole life I've been told I'm too sensitive, too dramatic.  Well, that may still be the case, but I can at least tell when I'm ok to let the floodgates open, and when I need to shut 'er down.  It's a self-preservation thing.  I know when I should stop researchin, or when to tune out the latest anecdotes in my support group.  If I open myself up to my emotions, it makes for a looooonnnnngggg night, and an even longer day parenting.  I just can't do it...all the time.

365 days later.  We are all a year older, a lot wiser, and a lot more knowledgeable.  I asked my children what they thought living with Type 1 Diabetes is like...

Forrest (6 years old) : "Sunshine sometimes feels good and sometimes doesn't feel good.  When she feels not good, she needs a poke.  That's when I feel NOT good."

Sunshine (3 years old) : "A long time ago, I went to the hospital.  I had an IV and lots of needles.  My mama and papa and brothers stayed with me.  I felt not good at the hospital...Having diabetes means I have to have pokes and boluses when I want to eat food...I like the pump because I not like needles.  Needles hurts sometimes."

Because we are homeschooling and live a fairly sheltered life, the children don't really know any different.  They don't really talk about being "sad" or "mad" about diabetes.  Once or twice Sunshine has asked me to make it go away, but it isn't much of an issue.  She seems to accept her condition, at this point in her life.  The future holds many more challenges, and triumphs, but I think I'll turn my mind away from that whole tsunami for now.

365 days later.  It's good to be here with my family.  I have so much to be thankful for.

pink elelphant ~ december 2011 ~ extraordinary people

Our family's "elephant in the room" is a pink one.  Our 3 year old daughter was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes in January 2011 at the age of 2 1/2 years old, and it has changed our lives forever.  Every month, I post a little update on how we are coping with her condition

It's been a while since I posted a pink elephant.  I had wanted to do this post in November which is World Diabetes month (there is also a World Diabetes Day (November 14), too, I found out by accident...which is rather fitting as it seems we are discovering most things about Type 1 Diabetes by trial and error, word of mouth, and sheer luck).  Yes, there is a (growing) community of us T1D families who hope to bring awareness, compassion, and education to the world about Type 1 Diabetes...in hopes of a cure.  We are a sort of "club" with members from all walks of life, with varying values and interests and lifestyles.  But we all have a loved one diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes.  We are a club in which none of us wants to be a member.  But here we are.  And onwards we trudge...sometimes with grace and optimism, sometimes with frustration and heavy hearts...but always hoping for a cure.  Always.

For this month, I thought I'd let a few of these amazing people tell you how they feel it is to live with Type 1 Diabetes.  One is a close friend, the rest are part of my on-line support group, Diapers and Diabetes.  When I first joined in the summer, there were six of us.  Now we number 53 and counting.  Here's what they want you to know...

Zane is four years old

Lisa :  I would like people to know and refer to Zane that he has Diabetes not that he is a Diabetic - this diagnosis was life defining, but does not define who he is. I would also like people to know that he can eat anything that you or your child can eat, he just needs insulin to cover it, please do not treat him any different because he has this. People should also know he is the bravest little man in my life!

*     *     *     *     *

Monica :  I would like people to know that this doesn't just affect Josephine, it affects our whole family. It made us pull together to support one another. It has made the bond between her and her older sister Isabelle grow, I have always wished that they would be best friends, I think through this they will be.

*     *     *     *     *

Kaylea is 4 years old.  She was diagnosed at 1 year old.

Kaylea  :  Diabetes doesn't mean I can't have sugar, it means I have to ask first.
I don't look sick on the outside and people don't understand how diabetes can make me really sick and I get shaky.
My dog helps me because she knows before I get sick.
I have to wear my pump all the time . It gives me insulin and keeps me alive.

*     *     *     *     *

Paul :  Got diabetes when I was 15, I'm 44 now.
Living with T1.........From the perspective of having it but also from someone who worked with T1 kids and adults at a summer camp for diabetics. The big thing to know is that, for a kid and most adults it's impossible to be a perfect diabetic. For most kids, myself included, high blood sugar became synonomous with "Being in trouble". You try your best and you test lots so you can fix high blood sugars, but you don't dwell on the always (for me anyway) depressing fact that your sugars got that high to begin with. As far as living with it today, I've seen it get way better in terms of technology and knowledge so I can certainly see you getting your wish to tell Sunshine that she USED to have Diabetes.

*     *     *     *     *

Brayden turned 3 years old in October.  He was diagnosed at 14 months old.

Carilyn :  When I think about what it's like to have a child with T1.....hmmm. I think of Type 1 not as something I have, but it's certainly what I got in life. I say to Brayden "Everyone's got something." I have asthma, Daddy has bad hips, our dog needs eye drops and you need shots every day. It doesn't matter what you "got" in life, but it's what you do with it that matters." My brother told me that Brayden's diabetes will never hold him back, and that it should never hold me back, either. I think having this disease in our lives is such an opportunity and like the loss of my sister, I just can't dwell on anger and resentment or else I know it'll destroy me.

*     *     *     *     *

Each of these sentiments speaks directly to my heart.  All of these folks are regular people, living with an exceptionally challenging situation.  Out of the ordinary comes the extraordinary.  Each and every one of these people are extraordinary.

a few special moments

In November, at winter's gate, the stars are brittle.  The sun is a sometime friend.

~ Cynthia Rylant

And yet, in November, when that first snowfall quietly and completely transforms the yard that we know so well, then there is a whole new world beckoning us outside, waiting to be discovered, explored, and even tasted!

We also have been reminded of November's darker side...the drearily short days where the brittle cold snaps at us to stay indoors.  With a little transformation of some of the play areas, old toys become new again.

The magic of fairy-tales sheds new light on everyday objects.  Rumpelstiltskin inspired Forrest, and then his brother and sister, to experience one of Mama's spinning wheels.  I do believe the rhythm of the wheel mesmerized each of them into a quiet stillness...round and round and round...whirr, whirr, whirr...learning to take turns has never been so effortless.

Along with the snow and the cold keeping us quiet, my sweet little girl came down with a very very high fever, lasting three or four days.  On the fourth, she broke out in the pinkish lace-like rash of roseola...so common in early childhood.  My dear Sunshine has been uncharacteristically quiet and still as the sickness overwhelmed her spirits and body.  Tonight is the best she has been in seven days, with the rash fading and her health resuming.  Gratefully, her BG's (blood glucose) have been mostly in range...very unusual for a sick child with Type 1 Diabetes.  Her big brother has been especially doting, helping monitor her BG's and "reading" to her to keep her company.  Oh, how I love them both!

And in November, there is no better month to learn how to fingerknit.  Using the wool he dyed in the summer, Forrest quickly began to fingerknit on and on and on.  I introduced him to it last spring, but it was really today that he soared with this new skill!  Oh, I do believe I'll be handworking in earnest with this boy very soon.

In November, I am reminded of the importance of our home-life.  Of how we treat each other, talk to each other, help each other, and love each other.  I am reminded of how much the atmosphere of the home resonates in each of our souls, shaping our days, holding our hearts. 

pink elephant ~ october 2011 ~ one night at a time

Our family's "white elephant in the room" is really pink.  Our 3 year old daughter was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes in January 2011 at the age of 2 1/2 years old, and it has changed our lives forever.  Every month, I post a little update on how we are coping with her condition.

Living with diabetes is an adjustment.  There is carb counting, blood glucose monitoring, insulin "therapy", and lots of numbers.  There are mood swings, temper tantrums, unpredictable behaviour, and belligerance.  There are scales, measuring cups, conversion charts, and calculators.  There are band-aids, numbing cream, syringes, and little glass vials.  There are tears, frustrations, fears, and hugging.

Every single day.  Every single hour of every single day.

And then there is night-time.  Dealing with stressful situations on a continual basis, you'd think that a good night's sleep would ready you for the next day of being a pancreas for your beloved child so she can live to see the sun set.  There is no room for making mistakes. 

Did you know that diabetes does not sleep?  Not ever.

To manage Sunshine's diabetes properly, we must monitor her blood sugars throughout the night.  One of us checks on her at 9:30pm, 12:30pm, and 3am.  Every single night, for the rest of her life.  I can't even think about how this will happen when she is living away from us.  But for now, my husband is the one to do this task as I am still night nursing our one year old.  Sunshine sleeps alongside me in a "side-car" bed and I almost always wake up, too, asking what her numbers are.  If they are in range, I usually fall asleep until my baby wakes me up to do his marathon nurse at 5am.  Otherwise, that is sometimes all the sleep I get for the night.

If Sunshine's blood glucose (BG) levels are too high, we "bolus" her with more insulin, as suggested by her insulin pump.  Then we must check her at least every hour to ensure her BG comes down.  It has been suggested to us to actually bypass the pump and bolus her with an injection from a syringe.  We usually don't do this as there is absolutely no way she would sleep through a big poke into her love handle. 

If her BG is too low, it is a medical emergency.  We must quickly rouse her from sleep, sit her up, get her to drink half a juice box, then let her sleep for 15 minutes until we wake her up a second time to follow the juice with a carb and protein snack. After all this, we help her go to the bathroom and brush her teeth. 

Have you ever tried to wake up a toddler or young child from a deep sleep and get them to eat food ~ immediately?  It is not a lot of fun.  She may be agreeable after some cajoling, but usually she refuses, lashes out, and screams.  Before the pump, this was happening about 4 or 5 nights a week.  Since the pump, it happens much less frequently, though as we get her BGs closer to range, it is beginning to happen again.  There have even been many times when her crying wakes up the baby and/or her older brother.  Thank goodness there are two of us to deal with it all.  I'm nervous about the winter months ahead with Josh getting back into his ski guiding work and being away from home most of the time.  I have absolutely no idea how to get through it all. 

One day at a time.

One night at a time.

And when the sun stretches into the room in the morning, every morning, there is my girl, grinning up at me, whispering, "Mama, I love you so much!"  This is my faithful wake up call.  She is my wake up call.  To enjoy every single moment with her, with all three of them. 

One day and one night at a time.

 

 

a few special moments

We've been trying to get on top of so many autumn projects that are scattered higgeldy-piggeldy around our home.  Between harvesting, stocking up, putting the gardens to bed, renovating and finishing Forrest's bedroom, getting firewood, and homeschooling...life has been busy.  But busy in a good, productive way that has a lot to show for the late nights, lack of sleep, and messy kitchen.

My ever-present and faithful gardening companion is helping me put our kitchen garden to bed for a long winter snooze.  I am so grateful for her green thumb and her Virgo Moon.

A second visit from the tooth fairy in ten days.  I must say I am simply shocked at how big he seems, and at how fast he's losing his teeth!  There's just no time to pause, reflect, and savour anything about this.  Now the top two are becoming a bit wiggly!

Hmmm, how did this littlest one get to this stage so quickly?  He nearly leapfrogged over a whole developmental stage by forgoing the high chair and insisting on the booster.  Why are they in such a hurry?

This week there has been a lot more dentist play and diabetes hospital play.  Forrest is both the dentist with his mask on and a diabetes nurse giving an insulin shot.  It is really rather interesting overhearing their conversations while they play these games.  Forrest regularly asks Sunshine "what is wrong" with her and she tells him all about her diabetes.  He pretends he doesn't know what diabetes is and so she explains it to him.  Then he asks her all sorts of questions about what she can and cannot eat.  Sunshine is always responsive when they are "playing" diabetes nurse.  She never seems to feel sorry for hersrelf or complain about her condition ~ she uses the same tone as if she were describing what her dog looks like.  Funny, when I overhear them talking like this, my heart always leaps into my throat!  Is this really our life?  Is this really what my three year old is dealing with?  It all still feels rather surreal.  I'm so grateful for their therapeutic play.
Sometimes, by merely changing furniture around, a whole new space emerges that was never used before.  We tossed our old, lumpy futon and made a handwork corner.  The futon, while long past it's comfortable lifespan, had a little nostalgia for me as all three of my babies were born on it in this very corner of our home.  But what better way to get over sentimentality than by indulging in some handwork?  My first spinning wheel, a used Ashford, was brought downstairs with the high hopes that I will spend some time using it this winter.  I am very much a beginner spinner, but it is yet one more handworking addiction that is quietly calling to me.

  Oh, he laughed and laughed and laughed when he put these on!

We don't get many visitors around these parts.  But when we do, you can be sure these three are pressed up against the glass door in anticipation.  It's better than any doorbell I've ever had.

Happy weekend to all!

pink elephant ~ september 2011 ~ the boys

Our family's "white elephant in the room" is really pink.  Our 3 year old daughter was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes in January 2011 at the age of 2 1/2 years old, and it has changed our lives forever.  Every month, I post a little update on how we are coping with her condition.

I remember very little of our stay in the hospital.  I do clearly remember thinking all the doctors and specialists were misdiagnosing my daughter and soon they would realize their mistake and sheepishly tell us we could go home.  Go back to life as we knew it.  Well, it took me two full days of this until it all really sunk in how life as we knew it was over.  A whole new life had begun, whether we liked it or not.

Family and friends who visited us there, and afterwards, often ask how Sunshine is doing, how we are coping.  Very few people think to ask how the boys are faring.  Afterall, their world has been turned upside down as well, particularly our older son who remembers life before diagnosis.  Now, we think twice about what and how to feed him when he exclaims that he is hungry.  Sometimes, we talk him out of healthy snacks like raisins or granola or muffins or a sandwich, just because these carb-rich foods are not at the right time of day for Sunshine.  Sometimes, he feels guilty and will quietly sit, hidden from Sunshine's view, so he can enjoy a peach.  His language around mealtime involves words like "insulin", "bolus", "carbs", and "blood glucose".  Forrest is five years old.

 
Diabetes may have affected our three year old's body, but it has impacted each of the five of us.  There is little flexibility in mealtimes and we think twice about going to potlucks.  We changed Forrest out of his soccer group so we could be home for our regular dinnertime.  When we go to town, we often eat sandwiches in the car rather than going to our favourite bakery restaurant because we can't count the carbs in any of the meals.  I know all this will gradually change with time and with learning more about how to properly utilize Sunshine's pump, but for now, our lives are regimented and dictated by diabetes. 

 
As a mama, sitting here writing these words, tears are silently falling.  I've been putting off this post for a long time, probably because I know in my heart that we are all feeling the impact of this condition.  My heart is so tender when I see Forrest volunteering to hold his little sister's hand when she gets a set change and her needle is being inserted.  How far he has come over these past several months when her screaming would send him running to hide in the pantry.

 
Recently, I came across a blog written by a woman who grew up with a sister with Type 1 Diabetes.  This woman is married with her own family and she writes what her life was like living with diabetes in the family.  She doesn't paint a pretty picture.  She holds a lot of resentment to her parents for being so worried and stressed and concerned with her sister.  Perhaps this woman has a lot of other issues going on, but it struck me that it was such a monumental experience she felt the need to create a blog about it.  And so much of what she says are my greatest fears...stifling my boys, making our lives secondary to diabetes, and preventing us from living a normal life.  It is a tricky balancing act, and I know I have to be forgiving of myself as a parent.  I will make mistakes, as we all do.  I will do things I will regret, as we all do.  It has only been nine months, and I know it will all get so much easier.  Right?

 
To be honest, my biggest fear weighs on me daily.  Not a single day has gone by that I don't worry that Forrest or Huckley will get diabetes.  Daily, I check Huckley's palms for the unmistakeable sweet scent of strawberries that Sunshine exuded for over a year before her diagnosis.  I quietly monitor how many glasses of water Forrest drinks in a day and how many times he visits the bathroom.  Almost twice a month I do a random blood glucose check on each of them.  So far, they have both been normal, even though I sometimes smell strawberries on Huckley.  It's not easy checking Forrest's blood.  He has a justifiable fear of needles, despite never having had one in his life.  I've heard countless times that siblings only have a 10% greater chance of developing diabetes...but why do I keep meeting people who have multiple children with this condition?! 

 
So how am I to cope with it all?  How do I stop worrying, obsessing?  How do I ensure that my boys will look back on their childhoods and say that it was normal, and oh yeah, Sunshine had diabetes.  How do I ensure that their childhood is not like the one that lady with the blog experienced? 

 
One day at a time.  That's all I can do right now.  Every day is truly a gift and it often takes almost all of me to see it this way.  The tears aren't shed so often anymore, but when I sit down and really think about it, they easily flow.  I remember hearing, back in January, that when a child is diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes, the whole family is diagnosed.  Indeed.

pink elephant ~ august 2011 ~ struggles

Our family's "white elephant in the room" is really pink.  Our 3 year old daughter was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes in January 2011 at the age of 2 1/2 years old, and it has changed our lives forever.  Every month, I post a little update on how we are coping with her condition.

The last time I checked in with the Pink Elephant, we had just gotten Sunshine hooked up with her insulin pump.  Fast forward eight weeks and we now have a better idea of what to expect with this little piece of machinery we have become completely reliant on.

 
Friends, this has not been an easy road.  We were not expecting to throw our toddler back into the throes of the days leading up to diagnosis.  Our so-called "diabetic team" wanted to start Sunshine on really conservative doses of insulin.  A good idea in theory, but the really conservative doses were so, um, conservative, that she went back into DKA a few times.  This is diabetic keto-acidosis in which her body fails to synthesize the sugars inside of her, and basically poisons her system.  The result is a lethargic, miserable, complaining, aggressive, sick little three year old...24 hours a day. 

Sunshine sleeps in a "side-car" bed beside me, and we were waking several times a night to screaming, sobbing, and nightmares.  In addition, she was waking to pee and drink water.  This is unusual as Sunshine is normally a very peaceful, calm sleeper who will take forever to fall asleep, and then stay asleep until morning.  This dragged on for five and a half weeks!  Absolutely, positively, guaranteed the most difficult weeks of my life.  Needless to say, it has not been the happiest of homes in these here parts.

At one point, I called the aforementioned "diabetic team" in frustration  and said that a BG reading of 29 with 5.6 ketones doesn't seem right at 5 weeks into the pump.  (To put this into perspective, her BG target is between 6 and 10 and there should most definately not be ANY ketones).  I was told, in a very intolerant, put-out tone that I should not be expecting perfection.  Hmmmm...both Josh and I feel, well, why not?  This is our daughter.  Our main parent support is with Mark and Shelly whose five year old daughter was diagnosed at 14 months.  Mark, a former Olympic snowboarder and now the Canadian Olympic snowboarding coach, really believes that because we are basically our child's pancreas, we should always aim to mimic a normal functioning pancreas.  Only then will our child feel good, be healthy, and not think about her condition.

Well, the turning point came at six weeks when Josh sat down and spent hours figuring out Sunshine's insulin needs.  He set her up with five different insulin rates each day and we ignored the "team" and began to bring her into range on our own.  Finally, life became bearable again.  Finally, our child began to smile again.  Finally, I wasn't thinking about insulin and BGs and DKA and kidney failure and blindness every moment of the day.  Finally.

The pump is a pretty amazing piece of machinery.  I was reluctant before we got Sunshine hooked up for many reasons, but now, I can see there is no turning back.  Our rigid meal schedule is more flexible...within half an hour.  It seems more than that and there can be setbacks with high readings resulting in the reappearance of the ornery girl who is angry at the world.  I don't blame her!  So we keep to regular mealtimes and snacktimes (we skipped a snack once and again, not fun!) but we can give her homemade popsicles without worrying too much.  The pump also allows her to eat more of how she feels rather than how much insulin is in her.   
When Sunshine wants to swim or bathe, we simply detach the pump and insert a lock on the opening in her tube.  We usually leave it detached for no more than half an hour, though we are told it can be up to an hour.  The top left circle is her "sticker" which acts as a safety in case her pump falls, it won't rip out of her body.  Although, that has happened twice already.  The bottom right circle is where her needle is inserted, into the fleshy part of her love handles.  We tried putting the needles on her belly, too, but she says she feels them when she bends over. 

A big struggle for me is the visibility of her diabetes.  Suddenly, tubes and the pump are visible to the world.  Before, injections could be handled discreetly.  Twice we've heard some forward comments, both by innocent children, and each time they felt like a physical blow.  But I smile, and explain Sunshine's condition, pointing out that she is really a very normal little girl.  It is a good lesson for me as we want people to ask questions, we want our daughter (and sons) see us handling the well-intentioned queries with a positive, informative response.  We want them to see how normal it all is.  One day I hope I'll see it, too.

 
We were concerned about Sunshine sleeping with her pump connected, which it must be.  How will she sleep with that little computer attached to her?  Also, how will we be able to cuddle or rough-house with her?  Well, actually, it has never been an issue.  Sometimes she will mention that it needs to be moved, "Mama, my pump!"

As for our little Sunshine, she continues to move forward, refusing to let anything stop her.  Not her brothers, not her parents, and certainly not her diabetes!  Now that life is balancing out (in some respects) it's allowing us a little more freedom to do more things, to be more adventurous.  And with baby steps, or rather, with three year old steps, we are learning to integrate all this change.

 
I'm certain there will be struggles ahead, as there are for everyone, but with each struggle we overcome, I swear we are getting stronger!  As a family, we are working through this tough time, one day at a time.  And to see her smile again...it brings a little peace to my heart!

a few special moments

I've been feeling rather quiet these last few weeks, as life has been overwhelming lately.  Not to worry, though, I'm still here.  And I'm oh so very grateful for the kind souls in this world that reach out to offer love and support...exactly when I've been needing it most.  Thank you all so very much!

Looking back over the last week, there has been a lot of wonderful moments in between the challenges.  Including...

 
...cherry pitting season.  The worms got most of our cherries, but there was a handful to freeze to make a mid-winter cherry pie!  Again, my two oldest children prove to be good labourers!

 
...magic shows!  Forrest is thrilled to discover his sister is mesmerized by his talents as a magician.

 
...an especially good basil year.  We have been pesto making regularly, storing it in muffin cups to freeze.  I usually add the garlic and parmesan fresh.  We planted nearly 40 basil plants, and we eat it fresh daily, freeze it as pesto, and dry it for a gallon jar to add to sauces all winter long.  If anyone would like to swap seeds, I will have a ton of heritage Lettuce Leaf and Genovese and Lemon Basil.  All are organic. 

 
...beach days.  This little girl is definately a water baby.  Whenever we drive by the river or a lake, she exclaims that she wants to "be in there right now!"   With her pump always worn, for twenty to thirty minutes, we simply just detach the main pump itself, and clip a plug on her sight that keeps the needle under her skin.  Her long bathing suit top keeps her sites discreet, though we are trying hard to embrace the stares, the questions, the kind-hearted queries.  It's important to maintain normalcy around it all, so Sunshine will grow up feeling like it is normal.  Some days are easier than others.

 
Forrest and his snorkel.  He loves to wear it, in the lake...and in the house.  He is really becoming comfortable in the water this year, despite ditching swimming lessons (the lake was too cold last week)!

 
...a little sibling love!  This summer we have spent so much time indoors because of the mosquitoes, and it has been a real test of everyone's level of cabin fever.  Fortunately, there have been many moments like these ones, where the company of a brother or a sister is a real blessing...even if it lasts only ten minutes.

Have a great weekend, friends.  I hope you are enjoying your summer with your families!

felt painting from the heart

It might be debated that when a person loves to journal, they love the art of language.  The ability to capture the essence of one's emotions, however fleeting, with a few chosen words, may often be a gift worthy of volumes and volumes of journals and diaries.  For me, this is true.  I have carted around many of my documented emotions and events for over 30 years.  Like an old friend, they stand by me, reminding me of the girl I once was, of the small dramas that starred myself.

For each of my children, I wanted to create something just as memorable to capture that feeling, that essence of their past year.  I once thought I might quilt them a square to later be made into a wall-hanging, for them to enjoy in their own homes later on down the road.  Until I came across a beautiful "painting" in which the artist used felt. 

For Huckley's first birthday a few weeks ago, I made a turtle for him surrounded by four little fishies. 

 
The turtle has become a bit of a symbol for my dear littlest boy...for now.  When I made him his baby quilt, the turtle and the fishies were there, swimming along.  I think I could make these felt paintings really detailed, but they were a simple gift, made in very little time.  Somehow, this is just perfect.

Miss Sunshine celebrated her third birthday, and as many of you know, this has been a very challenging year for my little girl.  That first night in the hospital, amidst all the surreal drama unfolding, I quickly sketched a little guardian angel for my sweet girl while she looked on.  I tacked it beside her hospital bed so she had something to gaze on other than the IV drip, the tubes, the computers, the very sterile atmosphere that became our home for the next ten days.  So this past year is represented by that very same guardian angel.  I know she's there, too.  She saved my baby girl once, she won't leave her now!

 
(The truth be told, I preferred the hospital drawing to this one...it was much more spontaneous and lovely)!

In Sunshine's room, her first three felt paintings hang together...just like a quilt.

 
As my children grow, their wall "quilt" will grow, too.  Each year, a new felt painting will be added, making a patchwork quilt of their life on their bedroom wall.  Sometimes, words are not needed to capture the essence of emotion.  Sometimes, it just has to come from the heart.

box of treasures

My three year old daughter is not much of a dolly girl.  Oh, I've tried, believe me.  She shows some interest for a few moments, and then moves on to more action type play...like trucks and motorbikes and see-how-I-throw-the-dolly.  I have to admit, I'm a little sad about this.  I know, I know, honour who she is and what she likes and don't force her into a mould.  But, really now, I am a dolly girl. 

As her third birthday approached, one of her most requested stories at bedtime was my recollection of dolly play when I was a girl.  The old-fashioned school set up in my basement, the high chair I got from St. Nicholas that my sister thought was meant for her, the doll I painstakingly made walk every step to Kindergarten a whole two blocks away.  She especially loves the high chair story and so that is why we gave her a dolly high chair for her birthday ten days ago.  She loves it.

And the hand-made presents we made for her grew out of those stories.  
Josh made her a cedar treasure box that I filled with dolly clothes.

 
Sunshine has a very special doll made by my dear friend who owns maplerose.  I have been saving the doll for a few years, until Sunshine was old enough to care for her properly, or until she ever became smitten with dolls.  Both of those reasons went out the window when Sunshine was diagnosed with diabetes in January.  Josh went home on our second day at the hospital to gather clothing for our family and I asked him to find the doll at the back of my closet. 

  
She was great comfort to Sunshine in the hospital, but soon after settling back at home, she was rejected.  I think Sunshine associates that really horrible time in her life with this doll.  So...Maya (as she came to be known) was given a wardrobe change...a whole new look to hopefully spark renewed interest.

 
I had such fun sewing these little (pink!) outfits from scraps of Sunshine's own clothes.   

 
 
 
Maya's sweater is a pattern by Shelly (waldorfmama) found here.  It was such fun designing and making Maya's wardrobe...it sure came together a lot faster than sewing for bigger babies!  And all three children were pretty excited by the box of treasures...

 
There's been a lot of dolly play since Sunshine's birthday.  And even if my daughter never becomes a dolly girl like I was, I know in my heart that is just fine.  The comfort she provided my girl in the hospital is beyond priceless...and for that, Maya, I will always cherish you!