I left them.

It’s a right of passage for any kid.  But for a kid with Diabetes, having your parent leave you alone is a huge milestone.

This week the boys’ schedules are off the charts.  Tons of crazy going on the last week of school, and as such we have three different pick up times from school.  Since the littles got off an hour before the bigs, I brought them home to do some dinner prep before returning across town to do the second round of pick ups.

“Let’s go guys.”

“Nah.  We’ll stay here mom.”

I stop in my tracks and look back at my 11 and 9 year olds.

“You’ll be okay by yourselves?”

“Absolutely.”  B says with his brown eyes shining back at me.  He said it sincerely, not trying to convince me, but rather just stating it as a matter of fact.

“OK,” I say hesitantly.  “You have my cell phone number if you need me, or if something comes up.”

“OK.  See ya.”  He says casually.

As I was making my way to the High School I thought about the big step it was to leave my two littles, (my two littles who both have diabetes no less,) at home alone.  Sure only for 30 minutes.  But still…a lot can happen in 30 minutes.  Especially since Murphy’s Law is like my 5^th child.  I tried to shake the negativity away...my in laws live just a few blocks away from us.  All will be well.

Then it occurred to me, if Ryan were here, they wouldn’t be left alone.  In fact I’m pretty sure it was only within the last year we left any of our kids home alone.  My two little guys are going to grow up faster than the two older boys.  This is probably the natural order of things anyway…but sobering nonetheless.

I’m a big fan of keeping kids, kids, for as long as humanly possible.  Growing up is hard.  Just ask Peter Pan.

Was me leaving these boys any different than me taking a nap on the couch?  Hardly.  They take care of themselves like little pros these days.  They check if they suspect a low, and they treat if they are.  They dose if they are high.  I’m nothing more than a message board to leave word of what they have done.

Sure, I count carbs.  But during the daytime hours, that is all I do that they do not…and to make matters worse/better…the two boys that don’t count carbs are starting to take the wheel on that.  They’re pretty brilliant at it too.

So I left them.

And when I drove into the garage B flew out of the house and knocked on my car window.

“Hey.  Do you want to know what happened while you were gone?”

My stomach did a little figurative bit of throwing up and then I asked, “What happened?”

“I cleaned the bedrooms and the bathroom.  I vacuumed.  I cleaned the kitchen and put away the groceries.  Wanna come see?”

And so it goes.  Children grow.  Hard things become softer. 

And it becomes OK to let them fly.  Even if just for 30 minutes.