Doing the Math

The sweet sharp smell

of rubbing alcohol

no longer evokes

doctors' offices and hospitals --

the little square swabs

have become as much a part

of our landscape

as cheerios and baby wipes.

Some things I've stopped calculating:

the shots . . . twice a day times

a year and more . . .

the finger-pricks

that leave the swabs bloodstained

multiplying til I'm dizzy.

We've filled as many

gallon juice jugs

with your medical-sharps-waste

to match your three years.

Other math must still be done daily:

correction factors . . .

Insulin-to-carb ratios --

I wish I could as easily

divide your pain

your disappointment.

Even the small hurts

I'd make smaller.

I prick and you flinch.

And I want to flinch.

Let the diabetes win for one day

as I stop playing pancreas

so I don't have to be the one

to do the math

find the magic number

balancing your life one meal at a time.

Needle poised before

your perfect, round, toddler belly:

"We're turning your tummy

into swiss cheese" I joke.

You laugh and I poke.

This one didn't hurt -- too much --

but still my mind is racing

doing the math

dividing

Divide.

In Search of a Smile

I grimace at the bright pink polish

on stubby nails.

What was that impulse?

a stab at youthfulness?

attempted joviality?

Instead it is silly

and I must admit

smudged

when I reached too quickly

for the package of diapers.

But polish notwithstanding,

poopies must be changed.

And though it offends,

I'm sure it will be days

-- and many chipped tips --

before I drag out cotton balls

and polish remover.

Because after all,

the baby is still crying,

the dog is still barking,

the laundry is still dirty,

the three-year-old is still begging me to

change the batteries in a (probably broken) toy,

the dishes are still waiting,

I still haven't showered . . .

And, I guess, I'm still hoping.

Hoping maybe later, as I'm folding finished

laundry I'll see the pink

and think it's pretty.

And then

for the first time today

I'll sit there among the neatly

folded piles

and smile.