camp normal

Every child wants to be normal.
until they are a teenager and normalcy suddenly becomes too bland and the need to shock kicks in, and they are desperate for hair dye or torn clothes, or strange music... anything that will push normalcy far from their minds. (was that just me?)

But at this moment in time for the children in the Swanson household, normalcy is where they long to be.

Since November 19th of last year, Hailey has been struggling to earn that normalcy badge again. She is embarrassed of diabetes, and shots, and blood tests, and glucose meters, and that dang pink bag that carries it all:



She won't be seen holding it.
She won't be seen getting her blood checked.
She hates an audience with her shots.
She is mortified by diabetes conversations.

But yesterday, I took Hailey to diabetes camp.

A camp where everyone counted carbs like a religion.
A camp where a bell rang and everyone checked their blood sugar.
A camp where every girl had the same humiliating, scarlet letter pink bag.
A camp where she had fun and laughed and played and she felt normal.
A camp where she came home with treats, but also a sheet informing us of the carb count.

I could see that she felt included again, less alone, lifted up, heard, understood, educated, and empowered.


And when we left, Hailey carried her pink bag.

I am not going to lie, tears were involved.