Pfc. Dinsdale

Mark sometimes talks about what he's gonna be when he grows up (a video game developer, a teacher). But yesterday he spoke angrily of what he cannot be.

"It stinks that I can't be in the army when I grow up!" he said. You can't enlist in the military if you have dia betes; you can stay in if you're diagnosed while serving, but you have to show good control.

This is a big deal for a little kid; Mark loves playing army, either with his friends or with his toys. I don't think the army would necessarily be a good fit for Mark anyway -- he doesn't respond well to authority, to getting up early or missing sleep, and he doesn't like to hustle. I think he'd have a short military career for those reasons, but hey, no need to kick a kid while he's down.

I spend a lot of time telling him he can do anything, and that dia betes can't stop him. So I don't blame him for being mad, or feeling left out of the one thing he might actually want to do but can't.

"Well, there's that guy we saw on D Life," I answered. I reminded him of a soldier who discovered he had Type 1 just before being shipped off to Iraq. He proved to the army he could manage his dia betes, even during war, and was allowed to stay in.

"Yeah, but he didn't have it when he joined," Mark said.

"Well, maybe you could argue your case," I replied.

"Argue?" Mark raised his hands up, flabbergasted. "With the ARMY??"

OK, so maybe he has a better grasp of the military than I thought.

"Who knows?" I said. "Maybe it would work. You never know."

He shook his head. "I've already tried," he said.

I started laughing. "Oh, really?" I asked. "You've tried to enlist before?"

"Yep," he answered. "A bunch of times. They keep saying no."

Maybe that's why he doesn't finish his homework -- he's too busy talking to army recruiters after school.

Anyway, I was glad to end the discussion with laughter. I know he was teasing, but I also know it bothers him to be told no because of his crappy disease.

And I plan to stoke that indignation. I'll still tell him he can be anything he wants to, but sometimes telling him what he can't be is more motivational. Nothing like a little bee in your bonnet (or army helmet!) to spur you into action.