(Note: This post contains spoilers. If you are like my girl Brittany and you believe happily in the story of Santa, skip down to where it says “Diabetes is like Santa Claus.”)
My husband and I share a philosophy on Santa Claus.
Santa gets too much credit. Why should Santa get all the glory for the gifts that show up underneath the Christmas tree on Christmas morning? Mom and Dad work their tails off to provide a fun and comfortable life for our child, and to have the fun thunder (funder?) stolen by Santa Claus is unfair. “Thank you, Santa, for the Barbie and the Rockers van!” I shouted as a kid, not realizing that Mom and Dad put in some extra hours (and spent half the night assembling the stupid thing) to get that Rocker Van under our Christmas tree.
So BSparl will be fed the Santa story, but she’ll also understand that her Christmas gifts come mostly from her parents, and not from a fictional cookie thief who shimmies down the chimney. Santa doesn’t work as hard as we do, so he shouldn’t get all the credit.
Diabetes is like Santa Claus. (Welcome back, Brittany!) Only in this case, it SHOULD be the one given most of the credit for certain things. And I shouldn’t give myself so much of the blame and guilt. I have a tendency to look at a blood sugar reading and instantly blame myself for it. Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*