She was so excited.
A friend's birthday party. Birthday parties are THE most favored social event around here...and THIS one was a SLUMBER PARTY!!!!!
I whipped up some gluten free cupcakes, because my freezer supply was empty. Then we needed a to throw together a gluten free pizza for dinner. We also needed to make sure she had plenty of fast acting sugars packed in her supply bag. OH! And not to forget the other essentials ... party present, sleeping bag, pajamas, favorite stuffed-animal-of-the-day ...
As we walked up the driveway, I have to admit that I felt a slight twinge of envy watching the other parents. They were all dressed up with obvious plans for date nights. A kiss goodnight, a wave goodbye, and they were out the door with a spring in their step. Never looking back.
And then there was me.
Toting everything and the kitchen sink...trying not to let the cupcake frosting smear on anything, and hoping the pizza wasn't too toppled under the tinfoil.
First up was a scavenger hunt. The kids were divided into 2 teams (ehum, my team won, in case you were wondering)...and they ran around the neighborhood with a map...pushing blocks of ice with a broom, jumping ropes, and racing tyke bikes in the cul de sac.
I tested before we took off. 400's. This, of course, following a 47 earlier in the afternoon.
Sigh.
Correction, water, and off we went.
After claiming our team's victory, I saw my girl slump. I could see it in her posture, her facial expression, the eye flutter that I've come to recognize. Something was happening...and it was happening fast. I jumped over kids, maneuvered around pizza boxes, and reached for her bag in one fell swoop.
She started moaning, and I pulled out the red box just in case. I stuffed a juice straw in her mouth, unwrapped a couple Starbursts, and tossed her a couple Mike And Ikes while I was at it. My heart was racing. My palms were sweaty, and I felt like I had tunnel vision...completely unaware of anything else happening around us.
She looked at me.
"I need to eat. Now."
I grabbed her pizza and made room for her to sit at the counter.
The other kids were outside -- playing on the swingset and bouncing on a trampoline. Their parents off to enjoy a date night.
But my girl was inside scarfing down 2 slices of pizza as if her life depended on it.
Because it did.
While trying not to lose my cookies all over the kitchen, I was doing everything I could to appear calm and collected. I could feel the sting of panic and tears welling up in my eyes, and had to fight them back.
This was a party, for pete's sake!
I swallowed hard and stood beside her watching her like a hawk. She could choke on that pizza. She could pass out and fall off the kitchen stool. She could just fall over and have a seizure.
She could. She could. She could.
But she didn't.
She was okay.
I was okay.
We caught it. Stopped it. And moved on.
Back to the trampoline...cake, presents, and more fun to follow.
And then PJ's.
I couldn't leave.
Our wonderful hostess offered me an upstairs bedroom, but it was too far away. We were about 6 hours after that horrible low, and her numbers were stuck in the 300's. The girls were downstairs, camped on the living room floor. I knew I'd be checking frequently so I hung out on the couch during the movie...one by one they drifted off to sleep, and I just stayed there for the night.
Yeah. Her mom crashed the sleepover.
In the process, however, I saw the smiles. I heard the laughter. Giggling during the movie, OOO-ing and AHH-ing over the presents, and comparing pajamas. Pretend makeovers. Dancing. Board games. I chuckled at how grown up she has become. It was fun to stay in the background watching her interact with the other kids. I was there to see the glow on her face when she woke up, excited to find herself still surrounded by her friends.
After breakfast, we packed up and went on our way while the other parents were arriving to pick up their kids.
And I couldn't help thinking about all the great stuff they missed.
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