Different isn't always special

We're days away from his birthday. He's pretty excited. I am, too. He doesn't know we're planning a surprise party for Saturday. I have a huge list of stuff to do. I showed it to Baby; she said she'd take care of getting forks and cups. LOL. Yeah, right.

So we were reminded today that Little Boy is different.

He was 2/3 way through soccer camp, and I made him check his blood sugar. 58. sigh

We treated the low (juice box & half a breakfast bar), and he wanted to run right back out there. But that isn't the way it works. And he started crying. And the girl coaching their group was standing out there waiting on him. I told him he had to go tell her he was low, and that he couldn't run around. He didn't want to tell her that.

So I walked out there with him. (And got yelled at for it by another coach - God bless his little heart.) I explained to her what was up. I told her if he was playing back toward the goal where he would be standing more than running, he could come back into the game. She asked if he wanted to just go home.

Of course, he didn't. sigh

It was close to closing time, and she took so much time trying to move kids around that they didn't get to play much. So many of them were tired, they all wanted to play back. (I noticed all day she was struggling with organization.) The kids were all called across the field to the bleachers. I sent Little Boy over with his water bottle, but I told him to walk.

We got into the car. He was far from excited like he was yesterday. He was still feeling cruddy. He was sad. He was discouraged. And besides encouraging him, there wasn't anything I could do to change things. We got to the ballet studio to pick up Baby, and I had him check again.

He was ok. And by the time we got home, he was in a better mood.

Different isn't always better. And it kills me when he has to deal with this.