Fashionisto

OK, I don't know if that's really the male version of "fashionista," but it sounded more appropriate.

Saturday night was Mark's third trip down the runway in the PADRE Foundation's annual fashion show. He rocked it, as always, and I enjoyed every minute of it.

This year, I also learned that it pays to have friends in high places. Shanda's dad John Kunkle is an auctioneer (he even has his own TV show, Container Wars--watch it!) and when I asked if he'd volunteer to help us out, he didn't even hesitate. He was in!

John helped out in the (not-so-)silent auction, encouraging bidders to bust a move. After the auction, he and his wife Debbie joined us at our table during dinner and the show.

"Do you think we'll get better seats because John and Debbie are with us?" my mom whispered. I giggled, because I'd wondered the same thing. We usually end up at the back of the room, somewhere between Siberia and the exit doors.

Turns out we got GREAT seats! In fact, we were at Table 1. They placed us there so John and the MC could scoot backstage easily. Oh, and the MC was none other than Miss America 1999 and the former host of the dLife TV show, Nicole Johnson. That's right, we sat with Miss America--we were definitely moving up in the world!

The dinner was good, and the videos they showed of the kids during various PADRE activities was great. We spotted Mark kayaking in the Catalina video, and in some of the summer camp pictures. And of course, they flashed the kids pictures on the giant screens during dinner--I got the Kunkles and Miss America to join my mom and I, screaming for Mark every time his picture appeared.

They also showed videos on the big screens, of the parents and kids discussing how their lives changed with their diabetes diagnoses, and my eyes welled up almost immediately. The ceremony dragged on a little bit, but my favorite part was the raffle. A bunch of little kids stood onstage with Nicole Johnson, who asked them their names and ages. The two littlest kids were a big hit with the audience.

"How old are you?" she asked one adorable little boy.

"Three," he answered, waving at the crowd.

"And how long have you had diabetes?" she asked.

"Twenty years," he answered, very seriously. The audience lost it.

John got up and worked his magic, raising a ton of money during the auction. Bless his heart--I'd told him about the past couple years, when people donated crazy amounts of money. This year, however, someone turned the donation waterfall off, because no one wanted to give at first. John finally coaxed some money out of them when he lowered the amounts, but man, I felt bad for him at first.

But then, finally, came the best part of the night--the kids. This year's theme was Invincible, and boy, did the kids play up to that. They came onstage for the opening number, dancing around in astronaut suits. (I didn't quite get the correlation, except that maybe astronauts are invincible? Whatever, it was a fun dance!)

There were a couple other dance numbers, one by the boy performers group and one by the girls. But then the music amped up, and it was time for the models.

The show is actually a full-fashion show, sponsored by Macy's and featuring their clothes. They have professional adult models walking the runway as well, and I recognized some of them from the previous years (yes, Michelle, the crazy hip lady was there, although she's learning to walk better--didn't look like she was going to throw out a hip this year!).

The kids did a fantastic job--I am just so impressed by them every year. They come out on stage to blaring music and flashing lights, to a huge ballroom filled with 50 tables and 500 people staring at them. The runway is long, too--lots of room to panic and go running backstage. But they moved forward, each of them walking to the edge of the runway, flaunting their stuff, then walking back up the runway.

Mark did an excellent job again this year! He'd complained after practice that he was walking with a really hyper kid this year--what he failed to mention was that it was a little kid. Seriously, he's only like four years old! (And to make things even more challenging, the little guy had a low blood sugar right before going on stage...poor guy!)

I think they picked Mark to walk with him because Mark's so great with little kids. But here they came, both of them so cute and proud, Mark leading the little guy like a true champ.

I've never been so proud of Mark! He shined in more ways than one on that stage.

The boys came back out together during the finale. They held their signs up, telling the number of years they've had diabetes. It's so weird to see all those signs--so sad and inspiring all at once. You just want to hug all those kids and make them feel better, but at the same time, you realize what heroes they really are, and that after all those years of living with diabetes, they really might just be invincible. But invincible or not, they're still just kids.

The event ran long this year, and we were exhausted by the end. But also happy--very happy--and inspired. These kids fight Type 1 diabetes every day. They may not win the small battles every day, but with our help, and PADRE's help, they'll win the war--and have fun doing it!

My model son

We frequently attend events sponsored by the PADRE Foundation, a non-profit group supporting children with diabetes and their families. PADRE pays for the events by raising money in a yearly fashion show. This year, I decided Mark is old enough to give back to the group that has already given us so much.

"You wanna be in a fashion show?" I asked, showing him the postcard announcement.

"No," he immediately scoffed.

"You get to keep the clothes," I said casually.

"OK, then yes," he answered, just as quickly. "What kind of clothes?"

"I dunno," I said. "Kids clothes?"

The lure of free clothes did it--he was in. (Mark sells out easily.) And like most of Mark's extracurricular activities, it meant I was in, too.

Our first obligation was a photo shoot. The team wanted a head shot and an action shot, something that promoted this year's theme of Defying the Limits. Mark couldn't wait.

"I'm gonna bring my scooter!" he yelled. "And my yo-yo. And my baseball uniform. And my trophies. And my..."

"Hey, hey!" I said. "Let's defy the limits against diabetes, not against the space in my car."

The photo shoot was running late when we got there, and my son engaged in less-than-model behavior. I could tell he's an amateur, because most professional models ignore food, but the first thing Mark did on arrival was scarf down four protein bars.

"What?" he asked, as I watched him down the first three. "I'm hungry!"

I didn't say anything, and he didn't either until he'd finished.

"Ooooh, my belly!" he complained, rubbing his full stomach. I just shook my head.

I had a packet of papers to fill out, mostly waivers to sign. A few asked for Mark's clothing size, which I thought was silly, since the show is four months away, and he'll invariably grow a whole size by then. It also wanted to know his hobbies, which Mark told me were "Football, basketball, sports and scootering."

"Oh, and awesomeness," he added. So I wrote that my humble son excelled in sports and awesomeness.

It was fun to see how all the other kids with diabetes defied their limits. There was one kid in a karate uniform, one in a soccer uniform, and one in an apron. Her sister wore a pair of boxing gloves, and we giggled as she smiled sweetly for the camera.

"She should look mean," Mark observed. "Boxers don't smile!"

There was a girl who looked like a rock star, and another girl who asked what her talent was, besides looking cool.

"I'm a singer," she answered.

"Oh, cool! How are you gonna show that in the pictures?"

The future rock star held up a microphone. It conveyed the message perfectly.

My favorite kid was wearing a wetsuit instead of a sports uniform. She was also lugging an eight-foot long giant whale float, which cracked me up--it was twice as big as she was! Later on, she left it propped with its nose against the wall. I nudged Mark and whispered, "Looks like the whale's on a time out!"

During the parents meeting, I learned that my commitments included monthly meetings, taking Mark to a final fitting, and forking out a lot of money for the chance to see my son work the catwalk for 30 whole seconds.

While I was nervously adding up the costs in my head, the mom in charge told us the benefits of participating. The biggest one was giving the kids a support group, and the chance to be around other kids with diabetes.

"That time is really important for them," she said. "It makes them realize they are normal."

I nudged Mark again. "Hear that? She thinks you're normal!" He didn't think it was as funny as I did.

Mark was pulled from the meeting early, to be interviewed on video. I have no idea what he said, and truth be told, I'm a little afraid. Uncensored Mark has a fifty-fifty chance of being either hilarious or wildly inappropriate.

But whatever. I just keep reminding myself it's for a great cause, because honestly, I am grateful for the PADRE Foundation and all their support. They excel at awesomeness even more than Mark does.