Sunday pics

Exceptional Talent

I love my husband. I love to just watch him from across the room. He occasionally sees me and asks, "What?" He does things all day that say, "I love you". Like getting up to fix the kids' breakfast while I sleep a little longer. He oftten cleans up the kitchen. And he does so much more.

He has this exceptional talent that amuses me for the most part.

He's a tea drinker. I think it's cute. (I'd drink it if I added about 3 heaping tablespoons of sugar.) He fills his little tea pot, and turns on the burner. And no matter how high or low he turns the heat, it whistles when he's not in the room.

I don't mind fixing his tea. It's just that I don't always know he's not in the kitchen, and the tea pot whistle is shrill. So it whistles, and I wait a minute or two to hear if he's going to get it. And I get up, and just as I get there, he rushes into the room.

Inside out, upside down and backwards

That's how my sleep routine is right now.

Yesterday I took a nap. Everyone was sleeping, and I was falling asleep with DHs laptop on my lap. So I crawled into bed. And I slept hard, and long. Until DH started pestering me.

Every five minutes or so, he kept telling me what time it was.

"It's five to five."

"It's five."

"It's five after."

"It's eleven after five!"

I finally asked what he was talking about. "Doesn't Baby have ballet?"

"What day is it?!"

We were late.

And last night, after 2 glasses of Diet Coke at Denny's for late supper with Baby after her long practice, and a piece of chocolate, peanut butter silk pie for dessert (my splurge of the century week) I was WIDE awake until after 3:30 am. I started considering getting back up. But eventually I fell asleep.

But that has no bearing on what ungodly time in the morning the kids get up. And start playing fighting pestering their day.

So I'm up. And awake. And the morning is half gone.

My son, the military fanatic, is outside running around in camo and an army helmet with his machine guns. Baby is playing quietly inside. And I am dreaming of a nice, long nap.

But that's how this horrible cycle gets started. So I might have to push through and go to bed early tonight.

Sure.

Kids

Little Boy and Baby were getting a little wild. We asked them to settle down before she got hurt. We listed several incidents where she has ended up hurt. He said, "But that was an accident," or "That was not on purpose." Then we mentioned one incident that definitely wasn't an accident.

As he walked out the door, he said, "You got me on that one!"

At supper, Little Boy was done eating, and Daddy and I were sitting at the table talking. Baby was still finishing up. I asked her, "How'd you get so pretty?" She smiled a sweet, slightly smug smile. Then I asked her, "How'd you get so rotten?"

She pointed at me.

Daddy about fell off his chair laughing.

I told her she was pointing in the wrong direction.

Saturday

We woke up in a typical fashion lately. Daddy and Mommy semi-comatose, Baby up first and wandering around, Little Boy still sleeping until Baby opens his door and then the laughing, fighting and banging around starts. And I get up and stumble to his room and tell them to be quiet, and make it back to bed for a couple more minutes.

Baby and I had to leave the house by 9:30 to go get her pictures taken for ballet. Daddy fixed breakfast for the kids; I grabbed a breakfast bar. Last minute I started looking for hair clips. Why do I do that to myself? But it's a good thing I did; we ended up using them.

We got to the studio to find all-out pandemonium. Little girls (and big girls) running around in costumes, moms, grandmas and even babies. We figured out Baby's first costume and got her ready. And then I had to try to figure out their crazy picture packages. We left there about an hour and a half later.

We came home and I fixed lunch for the kids. I had a Reliv shake, and decided to take a nap. I guess Daddy got the kids down for their nap. I took a long nap, only interrupted a couple times by Baby before she went down.

I woke up dreaming about oven-roasted potatoes. So I got up and got them started. I fixed pork chops with rib rub, a green salad, and left over dinner rolls. We had corn, cottage cheese and green olives, too. Everything was very yummy!

I logged onto our local news site. The headlines were that a local businessman killed his wife and then killed himself. I started reading the article - it was someone I knew. My SIL worked for them for several years. I had interviewed for a job there, too, and turned down the job they offered me. DH and I had been in their home to hook up a computer. My SIL told me tonight that they had lost just about everything they owned, his car dealership was being shut down by GMAC and he had started using drugs again. The worst thing was that their 11 year old son was probably home at the time. I haven't heard, but it's possible their younger daughter was home, too. I don't understand people like that.

SIL asked if we were going to need cat food anytime soon. She works next door to the vet hospital I go to. I told her I was up there Friday. Jack got a steroid shot for irritable bowel, and I got the food then.

G & G moved to the lake house yesterday. Baby was telling them good-bye. Grandma told her she was going to miss her so much. "I'll send you a postcard every day, Grandma." So sweet - a little melodramatic - and without telling Mommy, quite impossible. :0)

Kids are getting ready for bed, I'm watching the NASCAR All-Star race, and DH is somewhere. In the den, I think. I need to look over my Sunday school lesson and figure out what to sing tomorrow for special music.

I feel better right now physically than I have in a while. It's amazing what a good nap can do for you!

My New Best Friend

I am looking forward to waking up one of these mornings without a pounding headache. Hopefully soon.

Last night I fixed spaghetti. Well, first I fixed the sauce. Little Boy came into the kitchen asking what the horrible smell was. I guess he's never been in the kitchen when I saute the onion and garlic. I had frozen sauce that I thawed and added some more tomato sauce and paste. We were browning the garlic bread; DH hit the simmer button on the stove and something POPPED quite loudly. And the stove turned off. He turned the knobs off and went downstairs. He flipped the breaker. We won't be using the simmer button anymore.

I fixed salads - I must say, I like my salads. :0) I was almost done with everything when I realized I hadn't fixed any pasta. DH said he was wondering when I was going to get it started.

We were done eating, and Little Boy had gone next door to see G & G. Baby needed some help finishing up. When I had washed her face, I asked her if she liked the spaghetti. She said, "Thank you for making that yummy spaghetti, Mommy," and she hugged me.

It's so nice to be thanked. And nothing beats her little hugs!

Life After a Cure

Day 7 in Diabetes Blog Week hosted by Bitter Sweet.

I mentioned in an earlier post that when a cure is found, I will fall on my face in complete gratitude to God. And then I'll dance a happy dance! And of course, there will be tears because I'm such a crybaby.

I can only imagine the look of utter amazement on my son's face. And disbelief. And amazement.

I'd be calling everyone I know to share the great news.

We'd have a celebration - a huge party, and he could eat as much as he wanted of whatever he wanted.

His little fingers would heal.

We wouldn't have any fussing before meals when it was time to check his bg.

I wouldn't have anxiety attacks in the grocery store.

My fears for his health would gradually subside.

No more 2 am checks.

No more middle of the night shots for highs or carbs for lows.

We would go back to how we were before his diagnosis, but we would be so aware of the blessings of "normality". And we would look back on the time of insulin shots, highs and lows, and counting carbs as a sad, scary memory. But I would hope I would feel gratitude for the treatment that bridged the gap.

Diabetes Snapshot

Day 6 in Diabetes Blog week.

I don't have pictures of Little Boy testing his blood sugar, or of him when he's been super low.

This is the day after being diagnosed. He was so scared and confused. Baby wanted to love on him, but he didn't want her near his IV ports.

And it got worse. While he was at the hospital he picked up Influenza A in the playroom.

This is Easter Sunday morning. I thank God every day for the treatment of this disease. I wouldn't miss out on this smile for the world!

Let's Get Moving

Day 5 of Diabetes Blog Week hosted by Bitter Sweet.

Little Boy is constant motion. We don't have an organized exercise program for him. He has swim lessons once a week, and other than that he is just a normal can't-be-still-for-a-minute boy. When he's helping his Granddad, he works as hard as any adult. He loves to please him. Obviously this picture isn't recent - taken in January when we were snowed in. He did a great job helping out!

To Carb or Not to Carb?

Day 4 in the Diabetes Blog Week is all about carbs.

My son is quite matter-of-fact about food. I'm thankful he's not emotional about food like I am, and I'm thankful he's not picky and stubborn about food like his little sister. Even before he was diagnosed, I had started cutting out processed foods and sugars. He's super sensitive to caffeine, so he already knew and understood about restrictions - only decaf soda and no chocolate. A year earlier, he had to have oral "surgery" - he had to have two root canals/silver caps and two small fillings under anesthesia. He can't have chewy candy or gum. So when we explained that we needed to make some more adjustments, he was fine with it.

When Little Boy was diagnosed, we met with a nutritionist, the pediatric endo and the diabetic educator. They told us what his caloric intake should be each day. And they converted that into his carb intake. He gets 45 grams of carbs at breakfast, 60 at lunch and 60 at supper. He is supposed to get a morning snack and an afternoon snack (15 cg eac), and then his bedtime snack that depends on his bg. We cut out the afternoon snack because he naps right after lunch. And last month we cut out his morning snack when he was sick. His numbers were way too high. We need to reincorporate the morning snack since his bg has been low at lunch consistently.

I guess since this is what we've been instructed to do it hasn't been a controversy for us. With his current insulin dosage and keeping strict count on his carbs, he seems to be pretty regulated. KNOCK ON WOOD. I include some "empty" carbs in his diet occasionally. He's a kid. He likes to be part of the group. But like I said, he's ok with not getting everything everyone else has. We might let him have a cheeseburger from McDs and some fries, but then I add applesauce or other fruit. He really is a sweet little guy who has adjusted better to this than I would.

My Biggest Supporter

Day 3 of Diabetes Blog Week hosted by Bitter-Sweet

My biggest supporter would definitely have to be my husband. He knows how it pains my heart to do shots. When my husband is working or sleeping (he works a swing shift) I take care of giving Little Boy his shots. I'm more than capable. I make sure I measure it out correctly, etc., and just give the shot. I can't think about any of the emotional aspects of having a Type 1 child, or I'd lose it. So if DH is home, he does them. He has literally come into the kitchen, and taken the syringe out of my hand when I was going to just go ahead and give Little Boy his shot. He knows all about measuring serving amounts, counting carbs, giving shots, what to do in case of an emergency... He is the one I lean on when I feel like I just cannot stand to see my son go through this.

He also gets up to do the 2 am check if he's home. There are nights he doesn't get near enough sleep, and he still does the check. I'm sure in large part because I am such a sound sleeper, I would probably let the alarm clock ring for a long time before waking up. But still. He does it. I often wake up as he's getting back into bed to ask what Little Boy's number is. And often I'm back asleep before he answers, and I never remember the next day. But it gives me peace that my husband has it under control.

I do have to give a huge mention to Little Boy's Diabetic Educator. Vicki is a God-send. She and Little Boy forged a close love right off the bat. He and I stop in to see her whenever we go to the hospital. She and her husband came to his birthday party last summer, and last November she went with us to see the Imagination Movers when they came to Morgantown. She has sent books to my kids, and she has been a great resource and support for me. She was the one who kept talking when I was shellshocked at his diagnosis, and she is just a really wonderful nurse. She and some others are starting a support group; I can't wait until we can go to the first meeting!

Treating Little Boy Lows

Today is Day 2 of Diabetes Blog Week being hosted by Bitter-Sweet. The theme is about treating lows. (Yesterday's theme was "A Day in the Life of..." I forgot to mention that.)

We've been dealing with this more often lately. Little Boy gets too busy outside to do a "think check". That's what we call stopping to think about how he feels. The other day he came in to eat, and he was 36! I freaked out. He was a little too out of it to notice.

I use V8 Fusion - Tropical Orange flavor - to treat his lows. I also use the same glass each time. I've gotten pretty good at pouring the right amount to treat his low.

But I really think the most important thing is that I follow the juice with a solid carb and some protein. I've read where kids are low, get juice, and soon are low again. I really feel for those kids - what a horrible rollercoaster. Most often, Little Boy is testing before a meal, so following up with with solids and proteins aren't a problem. But if it isn't meal time, the easiest thing is little Planter's nuts packages - carbs & protein in one! I might only give him half the package if it's getting close to mealtime. I buy the big box at Sam's Club. He also likes Jack Link's Beef & Cheese sticks.

Fast acting carbs + slow acting carbs + protein = happy Little Boy.

A Day in the Life of Little Boy

My first thoughts of the day are usually, It's morning already? followed by, I wonder what his number is? My jumbled thoughts try to sort themselves out, and I remember his 2 am number. Was it high, low or good? What should it be this morning?

My four year old daughter woke up at the crack of dawn today. I had to send her back to her room a couple times, "It's NOT time to get up yet!" And my head is completely stuffed up. I'd like to stay in bed all day. My husband worked a double shift - second and third. He has to get sleep so he can get up to go back out on second. So I have to get up.

Little Boy checked his blood sugar before I got up. Rare. Usually it's a small fight in the morning. Since we homeschool, we don't have the rush to get out the door for the bus or to get to school. I can't imagine the feeling of watching him walk out into the care of someone else. Right now DH and I are the only ones who really care for him. My MIL can give the shots if necessary, but she can't (or won't) figure carbs. My SIL can figure carbs, but she doesn't like the idea of the shots. So.

We have to get breakfast done, some schoolwork done, and then we're out the door. Little Boy is seeing a therapist. We're hoping she can help him deal with his feelings about being diabetic. At one time, he made the comment he'd rather be dead than diabetic. That freaked me out. And when he was upset one day, he said he should just stab himself in the neck with a knife. That did it. I had to make sure he wasn't going to really follow through. Thankfully his therapist said he isn't suicidal.

And as I think about his appointment, I'm calculating in my head. Breakfast time, snack time, lunch time. Lunch time. Will we eat out, pick up something on the way home or come home and try to fix something quickly? If we eat out, I need to take all his insulin stuff.

I'll let the kids play outside a little while when we finish lunch, and then it's nap time. I'm so thankful both of them still nap. I always worry when he's napping; Is he low? When Little Boy gets up, we'll have reading time together.

The kids will go out and play while I start fixing supper. I get tired of meal planning. It's so hard to figure out things to eat that are quick, healthy and that my picky eaters will eat. Lately, pizza and spaghetti have been favorites, but we're dealing with fast acting insulin and slowly digested carbs. He goes low, I give him juice and carbs to compensate, and he goes high later.

He and sister usually go across the yard for an hour or so after supper to spend time with their grandparents. Lately, they've been coming home with some interesting words and retelling some interesting scenes from shows they watched with Granddad. Hmm.

About 9 we start getting ready for bed. Jammies, blood check, snack, teeth, night time shot, tucking in, and then sending Baby back to bed a handful of times. I'll be up for awhile. DH will get home about 11:30 pm and we'll chat, and I'll go to bed. When he's home, he does the 2 am check. But I usually wake up when he comes back to bed to ask, What was his number? I can't remember the last time I slept soundly through the night. And even though Little Boy doesn't wake up when we check him, it must disturb his sleep too.

All through the day, when he has to check, or when he gets his shots, I pray. I pray for God's strength to care for him to the best of my ability. I pray for him to be strong. I pray for him to gain wisdom in taking care of himself as he gets older. But mostly I pray for a cure. I would fall on my face in complete and all-consuming gratitude at the news of a cure. And then I'd dance the happy dance!

Awareness

I was just reading one of the blogs I follow. This baseball mom made the cutest snacks/treats for her son's team. She made homemade Babe Ruth bars, and frosted cupcakes dipped into colored sugar with frosted, decorated baseball sugar cookies on top.

A couple years ago I wouldn't have thought anything of it. Cute! I'll bet those boys were thrilled and gobbled them up!

And then I pictured my son on that team. And the picture quickly changes from cute and exciting to challenging and frustrating.

First of all, my son can't have chocolate. Unless you want an angry, raging maniac on your team. Maybe if it was hockey...ahhhh, still "No." He is super sensitive to caffeine. He hates how he feels when he's caffeinated. LOL

But then, there's the sugar/carb-overload thing. It's not that I don't allow him to have sweets. He can have treats in moderation, and if I figure it into his mealtime carbs. But I just cannot imagine how many carbs are in that snack. We talk often about empty carbs and healthy carbs, and we talk about low and high glycemic foods. I try to not use the terms "bad" and "good", but occasionally I do use "good carbs." I tell him or show him comparisons. He knows that the sweets burn off quickly, leaving him with low blood sugar.

I cry inside when I think of kids gobbling up goodies with no cares about checking sugar or getting shots. Occasionally, Little Boy forgets, and he's so happy. And then we have to face reality, and it breaks my heart to have to remind him.

So while I wouldn't blast the blogging mommy for serving up empty carbs, I'm kinda glad she's not showing up at my son's baseball game with her cute goodies.

To my mom on Mother's Day

May God give you all that you so richly deserve on this day, and may you reap all that you have sown.

That's the most honest thing I can say to you.

Why I am a complainer.

First, I am a complainer by nature - sin nature, that is. And I was conditioned to become a complainer by my mother - a complainer. I am also a complainer by habit. It's a hard habit to break. But I am also a complainer because it is more acceptable than being a batterer or a murderer. Stupid, inept people "make" me complain.

My daughter goes to ballet lessons. I work very hard to get her there on time. Many times, I fight with her to get her dressed to get there on time. And we arrive with time to change into her ballet shoes, pee one last time if necessary, and be in the studio at 5:30. And then the class starts late. The instructors don't have their music cd's ready. Often they don't have their lesson plans finalized, and when there is more than one teen helper in the class there is a lot of visiting going on versus teaching.

I want to complain. I want to very sweetly share my frustration. But I hold it in.

My kids go to swim lessons. Baby's class usually starts on time, and runs long. Little Boy's class often starts late and ends on time. I am paying $70 for his 6 weeks of lessons. The class is only half an hour long. If she cuts off 10 minutes, he's only getting 20 minutes of lessons. And his class has two skill levels in it - swimmers and Little Boy. Ok, there's a girl who can't swim, either. And the two of them either get left behind, or the swimmers don't get as much attention. Last night, Little Boy spent a good portion of the lesson, dog paddling from one end of the pool to the other, with one arm on the ledge. I didn't pay $70 for him to do that. Before the end of class, the teacher did help him paddle in the middle of the lane. And he did jump in at the end only holding onto one of her hands.

I want to complain. I wanted to go to the desk and talk to the manager. But I didn't.

I see how others regard the care of my diabetic son, and it is clear that no one is as diligent in his care as my husband and I. I don't slip him sweets, I don't encourage empty carbs, I don't guess at his carbs, I don't let him eat what he wants and then try to guess at his insulin. I read labels, I count carbs, I weigh food, I measure food, I am pained at the grocery store when I make choices that are best for him rather than what is yummiest. I confiscate candy from my kids every Sunday and try to run interference with my in-laws.

I should complain, but I try to manipulate things instead.

I go to church, and I see how things are thrown together at the last minute. And I see how things are done conveniently, instead of professionally. And it bothers me. Down in the core. I've offered to help with things, but am not taken up on it. I've helped organize things with checklists, and people think I'm crazy. People get up to sing, and it's so clear that they didn't even run through the song. It makes me want to scream. I've been taught - hammered - that whatever I do for the Lord needs to be done with excellence.

And I want to complain. But I don't.

I wish I could be one of those happy, oblivious people who comes, warms the pew, gets a blessing and leaves. But I just can't seem to get there.

Our local McDonald's is the worst. I hate to cook on Sunday, so we pick up McDonald's on the way home. For a while I kept track of the wrong order stuff on the calendar. It has gotten better lately, but last week they messed up when my DH bought dinner for him and Little Boy. He complained online. He got a response, and two coupons for free value meals.

I'm glad I married a complainer.


Is there something wrong with me? I feel like I'm doomed to be a complainer for the rest of my time here on Earth.

I guess what it is is that I work so hard to keep things in line, running smoothly and looking professional, that when others come rushing through it's an insult.

Vocabulary

Lately, I've noticed more and more that my children have an advanced vocabulary.

Yesterday, Baby had an eye appointment with the specialist for her lazy eye. They have stuffed animals at the far end of the room that move and make noise. There is a foot switch under the front of the exam chair. When the assistant turned off the wiggling, grunting piggy, Baby wanted to know how the piggy stopped automatically.

The assistant turned and looked at me. "Automatically? That's a big word for a four year old." I laughed. "She and her brother both have advanced verbal skills."

When we were shopping, we were walking through a section that had toys intermingled with the clothes. (How's that for sneaky?) Baby looked around and said, "This store is toy-riffic!" I had her repeat what she said, and asked her if she heard that somewhere or if she made it up. She said she made it up. Pretty smart!

Later I was thinking of the night before. Little Boy was not being gentle with Baby; she turned and said, "Brother, you are such a MANIAC!"

LOL

New entrance requirements

Baby was playing with Little Boy's race track. She had taken two pieces out and couldn't figure out how to put them back in. Little Boy and I were working on his schoolwork. He leaned over and said to me out of the corner of his mouth, "I don't think she's going to make it into college."

I had to laugh out loud. This coming from the boy who constantly confuses "d" and "b" -- who knows phonics rules, but refuses to take the time to apply them to even the simplest words.

I needed a laugh.

Ladies' Banquet - Lemons to Lemonade

Lemonade. Yumm. I love it. Without the tartness of the lemons or without the sugar it wouldn't be the same.

It's the same for our troubles and trials. Without the trials, we wouldn't have to rely on God; without God's grace, care and love, we couldn't bear the trials.

I shared a bit of my testimony regarding Little Boy's diagnosis, and what we've dealt with since. I have learned two things: 1) Every day I have to depend on God's strength to get through the day. 2) I can empathize with other parents of children with health issues.

I sang the song Press On by Selah. It's a beautiful song, and I did ok.

I'm just glad I sang before I had to talk. It's hard to sing with a lump in your throat.