Take a second look

The blond boy that you treat as you do…
The one you don’t give a second thought.
He was diagnosed when he was two
You can’t imagine his life’s lot.

His smile is contagious
His laughter full of the sun
He hops and skips and runs and jumps
Yet his world has come undone.

He pokes his fingers 8 times a day
Brown speckles mark each spot.
A needle inserted into his flesh
You would think he’d complain a lot.

But when he does this daunting task
His eyes twinkle with delight.
He knows it’s a grown up thing to do
He only wants to do what’s right.

A two inch needle we insert
Into his little hip.
We do this a few times a week
To attach his insulin drip.

Most children at that needles sight
Would cry and gnash their teeth
But not our boy, he’ll just close his eyes
And hold in all the grief.

He wears a pump around his waist
It’s there for all to see
He doesn’t notice it in his hast
No complaints from him, just glee.

He wants to make his family laugh
He knows the burden that they bear
He’s never thought to think of himself
And the work it takes for his care.

The lows come quickly and his body fails
He falls to the ground with no life
His eyes half mast he asks for food
Sorry to give his mother strife.

And then the highs make his stomach hurt
His heart starts beating fast
He has to pee and can’t think straight
He scrambles for his water glass.

But when the high is over
He snuggles at his family’s side.
He says he’s feeling better now
His sadness he tries to hide.

He has lived lifetimes of pain
And he is only six years old
But you would never know this to be true
His happiness is so bold.

Through all this, he’s a pillar of strength
A rainbow of hope for all to see
He is the sun on a stormy day
So here begins my plea…

You do not know what this boy bears
You do not know his strength.
You do not know he prays every night
For he and his brothers to be safe.

So when you see him, take another look
And marvel at his grace.
For he is a person to give your awe
There is more than a smiley face.

Put your hand around his shoulder
Tell him that you are proud of who he is
Look past his imperfections
He is an amazing kid.

Because:
He is more than diabetes
He is more than all the pain
He is more than a blood sugar number
He is the sun through the piercing rain.


L, Making his brothers laugh.

Worry Feet

My feet hurt.

When I wake up in the morning I can barely walk. My feet scream as soon as they hit the floor.

I’m pretty sure it is all the worry I keep there.

It seems this time of year my worry increases tenfold, and honestly, where do you think I should keep all this worry? In my swelly brain? NO WAY! I stuff it down…way way down to my toes.

I’m like a trash compacter when it comes to worry. My body fills with the worry garbage and I push the button and there you go! Feet stuffed with compacted worry! Stuffed so deeply that my feet ache from carrying around the worry garbage that no doubt is the weight of cement blocks.

Or it could be I need to stop wearing flip flops…

But I’m pretty sure it’s the worry.

No kidding, sometimes I am folding laundry during the day and I the thought pops into my head that I have 3 diabetic boys running around school and I have NO IDEA what their blood sugars are. I feel a pang of panic, but before it gets too bad I stuff it down.

Part of my Jedi D Mom training no doubt…

I’ve become a pro at stuffing it down. Seriously, I amaze myself.

I think to myself, “Self, you should be flipping out right now…kudos to you for pretending like everything is A Okay!”

Maybe it’s a conceited thing to do, but acknowledging the fact that I’m keeping calm and not freaking out is part of my coping mechanism. I let the worry flutter, and then I stuff it, and then I pat myself on the back and move on.

It takes practice, but in time, all D Moms and Dads can do it. You are probably doing it right now and don’t even know it! Come on, don’t your feet hurt just a little?

Problem with my trash compactor system is eventually the worry trash gets so full it fills my entire body and hits the brain. The only way to get rid of it then is to cry. Fortunately I can keep the mountains of garbage at bay with my blogging…so the crying is kept to a minimum.

I know my feet will lighten up soon…but right now if feels like someone is opening up my head and throwing worry in there like it’s an In and Out Burger Trash can. I’m stuffing as we speak people.

In the mean time to keep my mind off things, I’m coming up with some movie ideas…trying to get this beauty off the ground…

It’s the most flip-outiest time, of the year!

Hello friends. Welcome to Meri’s edition of, “August, should we just scrap it all together?”

I think July should be 62 days. Yes? Agreed? Because August always stinks. Seriously, look back at your blog…look back at your calendar…look back at your journal…suckity suck suck! Case and point, my post last year: Tsunami and EVERY OTHER AUGUST POST LAST YEAR! It’s emotional collapse time people. Batten down the hatches!

It’s back to school. It’s back to reality. It’s back to WORK! NO MORE RESTING YOUR BODY OR YOUR BRAIN! Let’s get moving! Blah! Blah! Blah!

It’s emotional…it’s hair raising…it’s finding a new routine…it’s educating teachers and nurses…it’s sports season…it’s a big FAT reminder that our kids have special needs, and our hearts break for them as they have to find their own “normal” in their new classroom. It’s everything July isn’t.

What can we do?

How can we ride that tsunami wave to the top of the mountain and declare victory?

We need a plan and we need one fast! Admitting there is a problem with August is the first step…now we need a healthy, grown-up, even way to handle all of this…

Any suggestions? And no, I don’t drink alcohol…so think of something else…quick! There are only 11 days of August left. If we don’t jump on this, August is going to swallow us whole!

Just so you know: I know I talk about my brain A LOT.

I went to bed last night with visions of last year’s Charlie Brown first day of school in my head. I was as ready as I’d ever be and yet I knew even with the best of intentions…IT can hit the fan. Regardless, when I did sleep, I slept HARD. I was exhausted last night and sporting a nice big fat head cold to boot.

The day went smooth as silk. Thankfully, I was able to meet with the boys teachers last night to go over emergency protocol and their daily schedule. L’s 1st grade teacher has had J and B, so we mostly just chatted. Her biggest concern was L communicating his lows…and since L is a pro at that now, all her fears were put to rest. B got a new teacher, one our family has never had…but B is awesome, so I feel good about it all.

The important thing is each boy had a stellar first day of school. Even though I feel like I’ve been hit by a Mac truck, and our family car is no doubt passed out in the garage from sheer exhaustion from our new commute…all is well.

I knew that moving our family into a better neighborhood was the right thing to do. I knew that being just a few blocks from my in-laws would be a blessing for sure. What I didn’t know is how much time I would end up spending in the car today. We moved to the East side, and kept the boys in the schools on the West side. My achy-breaky-head-cold-brain hates me for it right now.

A little lookie loo into my day:

8:00am: Leave for school
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8:40am: Drive home
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10:00am: Drive M to school. (Freshman orientation, my Sophomore got to start the first day late.)

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10:15am: Drive to L’s school to show him the routine he’ll use to check his sugar at snack time.
<----------------------------------

10:25am: Drive Home

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11:35am: Drive to L’s school again to support him through his new lunchtime routine. (I’ll do this tomorrow too, and then see how he does on his own Friday.)

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11:50am: Drive to the store. Out of paper. (Paper of the copier and toilet variety.)
<--------------------------------------

12:15pm: Drive home.

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1:15pm: Leave to pick up B and L from school. (They get out early this week.)

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1:40pm: Leave B and L in their Omi’s capable hands, and head to Jr. High for 504 meeting.
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3:00pm: Pick up M from the High School.
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3:15pm: Drive home.
<---------------------------------------------------------------------

4:15pm: Drive B to soccer practice.

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4:30pm: Drive home.
<----------------------------------------------------------------------

6:00pm: pick up B from Soccer.

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6:15pm: Drive to Omi’s for a wonderful home cooked meal. (THANK YOU OMI AND LISA!)
<---------------------------------------------------------------------

7:30pm: Drive home.

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I know most moms have days like this. It’s not so much the driving, but the in between that makes the mole hills into mountains. My brain was enjoying summer. My brain was in neutral. Now it is in 4th gear and it’s mad at me.

I don’t blame my brain for rebelling against me, but I know things will settle into a routine soon. I have family helping. I think I’ll just sing my brain a lullaby and hope that tomorrow the prayers I say tonight will grease its gears and prepare it for what will no doubt be another long day.

Conversation: The act of conversing BOTH ways.

(We’re getting the internet in our NEW HOME :) tomorrow. I’m looking forward to diving back into the blogging world! But I have one minute and I hijacked my husband’s work air card...I need to get this out of my brain before I fall asleep tonight.)

Today I met a new friend. Her name is Molly*. She has a boy on L’s soccer team. She talked my ear off for 30 minutes straight about her family, her extended family, her school situation, her work situation, her back to school shopping and upcoming birthdays and the like.

I probably gave her an understanding nod like 100 times.

I was there for her.

I let her talk until she ran out of breath...I’m pretty sure her lips were blue from constantly talking. Honestly, there was no oxygen inhaled during the entire length of the conversation.

But when I tried to tell her a little about me…a little teeny tiny tidbit about my life…a little information that included the words, JUVENILE DIABETES…well! I got a gasp, a look of disbelief/disgust and a “How awful.”

You know what she made me feel? She made me feel ashamed. I can’t explain it, but that was the emotion that came to the surface. I threw in a weak explanation…I know I used the word "auto-immune" and something about him having it since he was a baby…but she wouldn’t have any of it. She didn’t want to talk about it and I spent the rest of the practice nodding and validating her anger at the fact that her family wasn’t happy she brought her son with a fever to her mother’s 50th birthday party.

Poo.

Poo to you Molly.

I don’t want to be your friend anymore.

*Name changed because it's the right thing to do.

IT exists!

Hands down hardest thing a mom has to deal with? Letting go.

And a T1 mom? Forget about it! Letting go is like, mythological or something…what mother can let go and let their child handle D on their own?

I mean really! ((SNORT))

What kind of mother can do this? A stupid one? A crazy one?

Our kids need to be monitored by us ALL THE TIME!

NO LETTING GO! NO LETTING GO! NO LETTING GO! (Seriously, I think I used to chant this in my sleep…)

So how does a mother, who believes “letting go” is akin to throwing your child in a volcano…let her 12 year old diabetic son go to scout camp…alone…for an entire week?

Beats me…

But I did.

I let him go.

And. He. Lives.

The LOGICAL side of me knew he could do it.

-He has had diabetes for 12 years, and he is 12 years and 8 months old.

-He has had several dry runs. Scout camp with his father there 6 of the 8 days last year. Sleep overs, one night on his own each time. Scout camp-outs, 1 night on his own each time. Sixth grade camp, 3 nights on his own.

-All the dry runs acting as tests…all of which he passed with flying colors.

-He changes his own sets now.

-He counts his own carbs now…even when I’m there!

See! Logically…he was ready!

But mothers are not logical people. Mothers are emotional, protective, worst case scenario messes!!!

And our EMOTIONS hold our children back from being, well…self sufficient.

My emotions have held J back for many many years. I had to come to terms with the fact that this is true. Last year our endo told me, “Meri, you are doing a phenomenal job for J, but it’s J’s turn to shine. He can do this…you just have to LET him.”

So slowly this past year I have given him bits of responsibility here and there.

And slowly but surely…he was ready.

As I said good bye to him last week I wanted to run and scream towards the car with my hands waving above my head like a Muppet…begging him to get out, and stay home. But somehow I found the strength to squash down my emotions and let my logical side take over. (I KNOW! I’m like a Jedi master or something!)

I said goodbye and gave him a big hug. I looked him square in the eye and said, “You are going to be awesome this week.” I hugged him again and walked away…pushing away all the fears that were like rabid dogs trying to break down the door of my sanity.

Turns out my awesominity was rewarded in kind…J called me that night FROM HIS TENT! Turns out he got the highest campsite on the hill…and miracle upon miracle he had cell reception. On a mountain. In the wilderness. People! Do you get the enormity of this!

I’ve slept like a baby this week. J has called me to check in almost every night. He is doing PHENOMENAL!

So here I am, looking like a puffer fish because I am so proud, and marveling at how we got to this point in such a small amount of time. J starting Jr. High FREAKED me out at the beginning of the summer…

But now….he is ready. Which is nothing compared to the fact that, “I” am ready.

I never thought I would be here. I thought this place was unreachable. I thought this place was a fairytale…something irresponsible mothers bragged about.

But it exists friends! It exists!

Is he 100% on his own? HELL NO! I’ll be checking his meter…getting texts from school daily at lunch…double checking he boluses for meals…and of course, doing the 1am check for him.

This is all new ground for us. It was not easy getting here. But we are here in Big Foots proverbial lair.

He is ready. I am ready.

Letting go…it exists! It can be done, and you WILL do it someday! And when you start the process, I hope you will remember that the most neurotic, delusional, over protective mom in the blogosphere said it could be done…and I hope that will give you the strength you need to take your first baby steps towards (gulp!) letting go.

One of those moments...

There are moments in everyone’s lives that define them. Moments that move us to a sacred place…a place away from the world’s manipulations of what is supposed to be important.

I think my children’s diagnoses were three of those moments.

But since those three fateful days when my worlds as I knew them were knocked off their axis, there have been an armful of moments that just as suddenly, jarred me to my very core. Like aftershocks in the earthquake of diagnoses. In these instances my true priorities were made clear. Most of these moments lasted just seconds, but their grasping influences left imprints that forever changed the way I look at my life.

Last week I had one of those moments.

Since we were kicked out of our house for termite fumigation, we were lucky enough to house sit for my in-laws while they were on vacation. My husband had to leave unusually early for work one morning and since it was just an hour after the normal nighttime blood sugar check, he offered to check the boys before he left. (Uninterrupted sleep for the momma! Score!)

The next morning I started breakfast and was happy to see that B had finally gotten a good night sleep. It was almost nine and he was still lying peacefully in his bed. My husband called and we chatted about his morning as I scrambled the eggs. A couple minutes into the conversation I mentioned that B was still sleeping like an angel…

“Crap!”

“Crap what?” I said.

“Crap, I forgot to check the boys before I left.”

THUD.

(That was the sound of my heart dropping into my stomach.)

B had been going low almost every night that week.

…And he hadn’t been checked since 11:00pm.

…And he was still sleeping. (An hour and a half later than usual.)

I hung up on my husband, grabbed the blood sugar monitor and ran to the room. I stopped in the doorway to listen…to watch. Frozen…my mind like an ocean, the waves of emotion rolling…willing him to move with my stare.

Please move. Please breathe. Cough! Twitch! Roll over! SOMETHING!

There was nothing. He was motionless.

I walked slowly over to him, my eyes fixed on the blankets twisted around him. I sat beside him and brushed his hair away from his forehead.

It was that second. That one second. I was facing my worse fear.

But his forehead was warm. That was good, right? I don’t know. In that second his warm forehead was like angels singing…the warmth swept over my body.

And then he wrinkled his nose. Thank the good Lord above.

I checked his sugar and found him to be 52. I ran to the cupboard for some juice. And as I ran back I was hit by another thought.

What if he couldn’t drink this juice?

What if?

I gently touched the straw to his lips and he immediately puckered in his sleep…resolutely sipping.

THAT was one of those moments. The kind of moment that we see far too many times. The kind of moment that explains why I have so many gray hairs. Why must we stare our children’s mortality in the face on a daily basis? What purpose can this serve?

I honestly feel there IS a purpose. Without these kinds of moments...the world wouldn't have nearly the amount of good that it has. Once you get a glimpse out the window of what could be…the sadness of losing a child, a friend or a loved one…or once you see firsthand another human being suffer…you are changed…period. Priorities are changed, views are changed, what seemed important before just isn’t important anymore.

I hate that bad things have to happen to good people. But I firmly believe that bad things MAKE good people…the refiners fire molds us into compassionate, empathetic, appreciative human beings. Well, it does this for most people. For some people the fire doesn’t make them better, but bitter instead.

I’m not perfect people. I have flaws for days...but I do appreciate what I have. Every little thing.

I APPRECIATE the fact that my 8 year old child can play soccer.

I APPRECIATE the fact that my son is right now at scout camp…LIVING! Having an adventure without his mother hovering over him!

I APPRECIATE the fact that my oldest son can drink orange juice whenever he wants.

I APPRECIATE the fact that my 6 year pricked his finger 14 times last Friday, sporting a broad smile EVERY time!

I appreciate the little things. Because little things around here, are HUGE! Hugely. Wonderful!! And just when I am about to get absorbed in my selfish ways...WHOA! One of these moments happen and I realize I am DANG lucky to have what I do. I am completely blessed!

God bless those awful, emotional tsunami-like moments. They suck beyond measure, but they clarify what some don’t get the opportunity to see…life is too short to sweat the small stuff. The small stuff needs to be EMBRACED and celebrated!

Diabetes does that for me. It forces me to appreciate the small things, and embrace the wonderfulness of each little blessing.

When we are old…when we are ill…when life hands us crap… it is all of the little things that get us through.

A warm hug.

A sunny day.

A laughing child.

All the things money cannot buy.

I know at night, when you walk through the house to your child’s bedroom, and you see him or her sleeping…dreaming…it is that moment that brings the clarity of what is really important.

Especially when you take that second to pause…and wait for them to breathe.

We interrupt this blog…with life.

Things are moving slowly but surely on the selling/buying house thing. We are like The Little Engine That Could…chugging our way up the mountain that seems impossible to climb. We can see the summit…it is SO CLOSE. But as with most things…it isn’t a sure thing until the last minute. There are still a couple things that could go wrong.

But we keep chugging.

We think we can….We think we can…We think we can…

Anyway, part of the process is we have to tent our house to get rid of a few pesky termites. So I will be away from cyber space a lot this week…my house will be full of poison while we are away to the in-laws.

I know what you are thinking, “NO MERI! Is there a computer at your in laws???”

“Why yes, dear friends, there is.”

Problem is, my lovely Sophomore Son has procrastinated and needs to finish his thesis for his Honors History class…before this Friday. Friday he leaves for scout camp…multiple camps, two he will be a councilor for, and one he will be joining in to earn some of the last requirements before his Eagle. (And yes, that was a surprise Braggy McBraggerton right hook!)

Anyway. When he comes home, we’ll be moving (hopefully,) and then school starts.

So he has dibbs on the computer at the inlaws.

:P~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sure I’ll find some online time…but blogging probably won’t be happening this week.

:P~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m already behind on reading blogs and I feel like the world is crashing down in a wave of responsibility and worry. But we’ll make it through…we will!

I’m not even going to go into the fact that J leaves for Camp with M on Friday…and will be gone for 10 days. Nope, not even thinking about it. A girl can only take so much before she soars off the edge. And school starting, with conferences and 504 meetings, and J starting Jr. High…NOPE, not even on my mind. No siree!

AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

(That was merely a mind wiping scream. I’m not thinking it about it anymore…honest.)

So until then…adieu. Much love to my peeps. May your nights be full of good numbers, sleep and happy dreams. And may your days be full of love and laughter.
(I know, I know, real life has to happen too…but a gal can send good vibes your way, can she not?)

Let's hear it for the boy!

Since I was a little slap happy in my last post, I thought I should tone things down a little with nothing less than a spotlight on one of my boys for his HUGE accomplishments this summer.


L!

First, and most significant, L is feeling his lows. But even more than that, he is TELLING me that he feels low. And let me tell you, Lawton isn’t happy about it. He doesn’t like the fact that L is beating him to the punch. If L tells me he is feeling low before Lawton does, Lawton doesn’t get a treat. L will come in and tell me and then go to check his sugar and Lawton will follow me to the fridge, often beating me there…waiting for his treat.

Sorry fella…

But back to L. We have spoken for what adds up to hours and hours on how he feels when his blood sugar is low. He started manifesting it by just lying on the couch and telling me his legs don’t work. Then he would say his legs felt like Jello. I would reiterate to him over and over that these are “low feelings.”

“Uh oh L! You have the LOW FEELING again! We better check to be sure!”

And sure enough his Jello legs were always spot on.

So finally he has put two and two together and has been telling me when he is starting to feel low.

Hallelujah!

He is also going into first grade next month and has been working diligently this summer on learning how to read. Turns out he is a memorizer like his mother. He doesn’t like to sound things out…he totally can…but when I ask him to sound a word out that he doesn’t know, he just looks into the air until he can pull it out of his hat. But regardless…progress is being made!

Another thing we have been working on is communication about what his blood sugar numbers means. He checks his own sugar now and earlier this summer had a hard time knowing if he was “low,” “high,” or “nice.” (I try really hard not to say good…because ALL numbers are good, but sometimes it slips out. Good is good I suppose.)

Anyhoo…he finally has the terminology now…but how he communicates it is a hoot.

He’ll say, “Oh no Mom, I hate to tell you this. It is KILLING me to tell you this…but I have to. I’m low.”

Or, “I have bad news Mom…it is just really bad news. I don’t know how it happened, I’m sure it was an accident….I’m high.”

Or, “You are going to do the happy dance Mom, I just know you are! I’m PERFECT! Ooooooooooooone hundred!!”

Or, “I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is I’m nice. The bad news is I want a snack right now.”

Lastly we are working on what foods have carbs, and what do not. We still have a way to go with this one. But slowly but surely…progress is being made.

Brag brag bragity brag!

How can you not love this boy? My baby. He makes my day with his wonderfulness. I guess six years old isn’t technically “baby” anymore. But what ev’. He is still so cuddly and so sweet, and his fat toes are still my favorite breakfast! He’ll forever be my baby.

NUMB3RS

Wanna hear something really funny?

I’m not a numbers person.

LOL! LOL! LOL! LOL!

Ok. Maybe it’s not THAT funny.

But oh baby…I was NEVER a numbers person. Which we all know is some kind of cruel joke or something, because my life is all about numbers now.

It used to be, back in the day, when I only had two diabetics…(I know ONLY! LOL! LOL! LOL!) I didn’t need to look at their meters. I knew exactly what their blood sugars were doing when they were doing them. I would march into that endo’s office and say…”J is high every night at 10…his bgs the last few nights have been between this and this…and at lunch we are having issues with this. And L…well his last 7 wake up numbers were this this this this this this and this.”

I was borderline awesome…considering my number handicap and everything.

But now? WHOA NELLIE! Now…I don’t remember much. I’ll march into the endo’s office and say…”I don’t have the numbers to back it up, but I have a gut feeling we need to change B’s nighttime basals…I’m pretty sure I’m correcting him EVERY night. “ And a bunch of other half truths like that. They have to download the boy’s pumps before they get any reliable information. My instincts are usually right…but when asked for the reasoning behind said instincts…well, lately I just freeze up. My brain searches for the information. It scans the billions of numbers running through my head…and all I can back it up with is…”I just know.”

So last week it seemed like all the boys were running high…WAY TOO MUCH…I changed all of their basals using the VERY scientific method called “following my gut.” I obviously went too strong because we are having A LOT of lows.

So change them back! (That is what you are saying, right? You are totally thinking I should change them back…or dial them back a bit, correct??)

Well I have something to say to you…if I change them back; like any LOGICAL person would…well…I’ll be dialing them back up next week. In my experience if you get too strong on the basals, give it time, VERY soon they’ll be right on. Especially when you have three CONSTANTLY growing boys. Sometimes it just takes a little riding out before things settle.

Now don’t go running to up the basals on your kids and say that it will all work out eventually ‘cause Meri said so. I’m a stay at home mom. I check the boys every three hours or more. I have a dog people! A medical alert dog. I am vigilantly on watch! I am…I am…probably going to dial them all down a bit…

Hey, a girl can change her mind!

Although we are catching the lows, that are mostly occurring mid-morning, in the 60’s and the 70’s…there is potential for worse…and I don’t tolerate lower than that. (LOL! I don’t tolerate it! That is such a joke, it gives the illusion that I actually have some control over how low they’ll go!)

Can you tell it is a quarter to midnight and I’m waiting to check B and see if the pudding I fed him brought his 68 up to a nice number?

Truth is…I do hate dialing back strong basals…because It IS true…I’ll probably be dialing them back up in a week or so…but better safe than sorry.

Sigh.

All I can do is hope that all these numbers are being stored SOMEWHERE in my swelly brain, and that my gut instinct is just a manifestation of all the calculating my subconscious is doing. You know?

You don’t know?

Me either. It’s a theory anyway.

I should start writing it all down, but who am I kidding…I never get pass day two. So I think I’m going to slap the CGM on each one for three days each and let it do the calculating for me.

Because apparently, the CGM is a numbers “person”…and he’ll be able to paint the picture more clearly than the abstract my gut is handing me.

CGM is the Monet to my guts Jackson Pollock.

See how easy I worked all this out, because I took the time to type it down on virtual paper?

HA! Numbers are stupid! Who needs numbers when you got mad blogging/problem solving skills!

Ok it has been 30 minutes, wait here…I’m going to see if my gut was right in feeding B pudding…

138

BOOYAH!

When life hands you diabetes…make friends

Today I woke up to Facebook and found status after status of blood sugar reports. Victories, defeats…works in progress. How comforting to know that in the depths of the night, D parents everywhere are tending to their children. Like little fairies, or angels, watching over the children in their sleep.

I remember a time when it never occurred to me that others were out there doing the same thing. Of course I knew there were OTHERS, but it just never crossed my mind that there were so many. Moreover, it never crossed my mind that they would be so wonderful.

Yet here I am with fully 100 friends on Facebook who I have never met, but yet complete my life in the most unlikely of ways…by just writing one or two sentences on how or what they are doing.

They are like me.

Same.

How wonderful is it to not feel alone. I can tell you that I have bloggers that I follow and chat with that I seriously consider to be some of my closest friends. Yeah, I one of THOSE people…apparently.

But I’m so Ok with it, because hello, they ARE my friends.

Here’s a little something for you to wrap your brain around:

Last week my car was broken into and among other things, 3 one touch link meters were stolen. I rely heavily on these when the boys are in school. Since my boys do not have a nurse to help them, they need to check their own blood sugars and then put the number into the pump. With these handy monitors, the numbers are beamed to the pump, so I don’t have to worry about my eight and six year olds entering numbers correctly. I posted on Facebook about the ordeal and no kidding, within an hour all three were replaced.

Hello. Talk about understanding. Talk about generosity.

These woman (and men too) know the worries of my world. True friends do.

I saw this quote:

“A friend is one who knows the song in your heart, and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.”

When I lose my way…I have you. When I am down…I have you. When I want to celebrate…I have you. Blog friends, face book friends, family friends, old friends, friends who never comment but I know you are there and I love you just the same. I am so blessed.

So today I lift my Diet Pepsi up to toast the friendships I have found inside my computer.

To you:

“May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, may the rains fall soft upon your fields. And until we meet, may God hold you in the palm of his hand.”
-An Irish Blessing

Cheers. :)

Still a little broken.

In a few weeks it will be 12 years we have been “working” with diabetes. When J was diagnosed I broke into a hundred pieces.

You would think that after so many years I would be healed by now.

You would think that after so many tears I would be dry by now.

But I still cry at too many songs on the radio. I still get shook up when one of the boys expresses ANY sadness about this disease. I still feel guilt when blood sugars don’t do what they should, even though I know it isn’t as much my fault as it is the diabetes itself.

I’m still a little broken.

Maybe it’s because our last diagnosis was only 3 years ago. Maybe when there is a new diagnosis it’s a do over…you start from the beginning. You need to go through all the stages of grief. But if that is true, does that mean that in time I won’t be broken anymore? That one day I’ll be ok with all of this?

Probably not.

I can’t imagine any of this ever being ok. I do imagine happiness with maybe a little peace sprinkled on top. But it will never be ok that my son puked because his tubing broke off his pump. I will never be ok with cleaning up bloody tests strips off the dresser after a long night. I will never be ok with sticking needle after needle into my boys. Finding my son limp on the couch as he declares his legs don’t work because he is low…that kind of stuff just won’t ever be ok.

It’s like I’m watching the movie of my life. It’s a happy movie…a fun comedy with the most endearing characters ever. There is action, suspense and most importantly…love. It is a fulfilling and blessed storyline. But as I watch the plot of this awesome movie unfold…it’s the background music that changes everything. The music is dramatic, with a sad undertone. All the scenes of my life take on a completely different context with diabetes in charge of the playlist.

It affects me.

It changes who I am.

I have awesome days. Days where diabetes has nothing on our family. We don’t let it win…we live! We live happily. And as time passes these days become more of our norm. Diabetes goes onto the back burner…we have control. We win the battles.

Until someone gets sick.

Or someone has a growth spirt.

Or until we eat pizza.

Or until a million different things.

Then we have to stop and remember the brokenness. We are stopped in our tracks to be reminded that diabetes is always there. It doesn’t let you live on autopilot for long…

I broke three times…and I am still standing today. That has to say something. Name anything you have broken three times…I bet it is in the trash.

I wonder if people can tell. Can they see the cracks that love has sealed back together? Is it obvious? I’m a literal patchwork quilt of cracks. I’m sure it is a little noticeable.

But I hope they don’t feel sorry for me. We are going to be ok. We ARE ok.

Not ok with how diabetes affects the boys. But ok despite how diabetes affects the boys.

Despite it all…we are still standing. Despite it all…we are still a family. Despite it all…we still love one another. Despite it all...we celebrate our blessings.

And diabetes can’t take those things away. It can take away my sense of humor sometimes, it can take away my patience sometimes, and it can certainly make me more serious about certain things…but it can’t take away the love.

And best of all…it can’t take away the hope.

How I stay out of the looney bin...

We were swimming at a friend’s house with the cousins. Lawton was lying leisurely by the pool…watching, smiling at the kids. His eyes were intent on the action, only briefly distracted by the occasional bird that walked by.

The sun shined, and the kids giggled. A perfect day for the pool.

The boys had only been swimming for a half an hour when Lawton jumps up and goes to the edge of the pool. He walks along the edge. The kids are yelling, playing…he wants in on the fun, right?

But he paces…he paces up and down, and at one point he is ready to jump in. Our Lawton…who hates water. He would never dream of jumping in a pool…but here he was staring at J…ready to jump to him. He would glance at me every now and then looking for the Ok. I just shook my head. He knew he wasn’t allowed to jump in.

He circled the pool and J pled with me to let Lawton jump in.

“No.” I said, “No way.” It wasn’t OUR pool…I’m not an expert on pool etiquette, but I do know you don’t let the dog in unless he was invited.

But Lawton continued to ask, “Can I jump in?” Constantly looking at the pool, and then back to me.

“What is up with him…it is so not like him!”

(Yeah, I’m that dense.)

It was my visiting brother who suggested, “Maybe he’s alerting.”

Say huh?

It was all instantly made clear. I had the boys come directly to the side of the pool. Lawton sat contentedly next to me…watching the familiar check…readying himself for his treat.

J was 72.

Not dangerously low, but I submit this: I checked J's blood sugar 30 minutes earlier, before he went int the pool, and he was a comfortable 156. AND, J was in the pool for at least an hour AFTER this blood sugar check. He was dropping so fast, where would his sugar have been if we didn’t check when we did?

What if?

What if?

My boys don’t have very many bad lows.

How significant was that last sentence? I have 3 young, active, crazy diabetic boys and we RARELY have a blood sugar under 60.

Very significant.

Quite significant.

Utterly significant.

I like to take credit when the boy’s numbers are doing well…but I need to give credit where credit is due.

Lawton lets me live. He lets me be mom. I can function without the overloading worry because of him.

I can F-U-N-C-T-I-O-N!

Good boy Lala! You are such a gift!

My Brother's Diabetic Life

Some of you that are new to my blog may not know that my older brother is Type 1.

He is 3 years older than me, and I’m proud to call him my friend. Proud, because when we were kids he was my mortal enemy. ;) We fought like cats and dogs. Fortunately, when we “grew-up” and had kids of our own, we were able to settle into a comfortable friendship. Even though we live a couple states away from each other, our kids are best friends. His family came to visit last week and Evan and I watched in awe as our kids skipped happily ahead of us arm in arm into the Six Flags entrance. If you would have told us 20 years ago that we would be witnessing such an event, we would have shook our heads and laughed hysterically.

As parents of Type 1’s, I think we all are curious about the life of adult type 1’s. It is a little peak into our children’s futures...inquiring minds want to know!

Evan was happy to be interviewed to answer some of burning questions I had about adulthood and T1.

Me: How old were you when you were diagnosed?

Evan: I was 23 years old.

Side note: (I remember the day that he was diagnosed. My mother had called me and I cried hysterically. My husband was stunned by my reaction. So was I. I had no idea what it all meant, but inside me, somewhere, I knew that THAT moment in time was an important one, and the emotions flooded into me for days.)

Me: What were your symptoms?

Evan: I lost 65 pounds in less than 4 months. My lips were insanely dry and I was constantly peeing. When I was in these stages I was splitting my time between Sonoma and Sacramento. It is a two hour drive and you bet I knew EVERY single restaurant and McDonalds on the commute that would let me use the bathroom without buying anything. I was also working at a restaurant, and they wouldn’t let me leave my station even when I had to desperately go to the bathroom. I was always parched and drank a steady flow of regular Coke, which of course, didn’t help things.

Me: So you finally went to the doctor…what happened then?

Evan: The doctors diagnosed me as a Type 2 right away, because of my age, and they gave me pills. A few months after one doctor gave me NPH to use only at night. When I moved to Taiwan to teach English I read dozens of books on diabetes and diagnosed myself as a Type 1. I prescribed myself my own insulin. Since I didn’t know better, I asked for pig insulin at first. Later I got National Healthcare in Taiwan. I found a doctor who knew what he was doing, and he put me on a new insulin regimen.

Me: Have you ever had a diabetic emergency?

Evan: When I was on the pills, I thought I was going blind. I went to the emergency room, and they just gave me more pills. I had no insurance at the time and was billed thousands of dollars for their stupidity. There was one time I was so shaky, I had to sit on the floor and I asked someone to get me a coke, but that is the extent of it.

Me: Can you tell me what it feels like to have a low blood sugar?

Evan: For me, I get the shakes. I used to get shaky when I was 70, now I don’t until I’m in the 40’s. I also have nightmares when I go low in the middle of the night. If I wake up, and I’m scared or worried, 90% of the time I’ll check and I’ll be low.

Me: What does a high blood sugar feel like?

Evan: In my case, it’s all about peeing. I know I’m high by how my bladder feels. If I’m over 260, I’ve got to pee.

Me: When and why did you start the pump?

Evan: I spoke to my doctor about a pump and he said it wasn’t an option. A few months later I got a call from my doctor to come in. Apparently you had spoken to your endo, who called my nurse to tell her a pump WAS needed. I started shortly after.

Me: I forgot I did that. I’m so awesome. It made your life better, didn’t it?

Evan: Yes. My A1C’s are about the same, but it really has made my life easier. It especially helped with the dawn phenomenon. I had awful spikes early in the morning…the pump makes those spikes controllable now. I like being able to turn the insulin off before bed if I’m dropping fast, and I especially like the meter that links to the pump. I don’t have to enter the number and it is very convenient.

Me: How often do you see your Endo?

Evan: (Smiling) Meri, I’m a little different than most of the diabetics you know. I’ve only seen an Endocrinologist like four times in my life. Three of those times were when I was starting the pump. Since I diagnosed myself…and educated myself…I mostly take care of myself. I have a standing order to get my blood drawn a couple times a year, and I take my blood pressure when I’m at the store. If my A1C’s weren’t so good, I’d probably seek out an Endo’s advice. But so far, I’ve been okay on my own.

Me: What is the biggest pain about having Type 1 Diabetes?

Evan: Driving is the biggest pain. It’s hard to multi-task while I’m driving. Just on the way down for this trip, I would poke my finger and Cheryl would squeeze out the blood and touch it to the monitor for me. Also, my immune system is pretty crappy, I’m a teacher and I get all the colds and flus that the kids bring to school. Another thing is everyone and their mother seems to know someone with Type 2. I’m always getting “advice” on how to take care of my diabetes. I’m always running into the food police too.

Me: Do your students know you are Type 1?

Evan: Yes. At the beginning of the year I show them my pump. I explain it’s not a cell phone. I tell them I may eat skittles now and then and no, they can’t have any. I also tell them if I start acting weird, or get unresponsive that they should run next door to get Mr. Fertado.

Me: Do you think you are a different person than you would have been, because you have diabetes?

Evan: Definitely. I am more cautious because of it. The biggest contributing factor for me becoming a teacher is the fact I knew I would get pretty good health insurance. Even though I am glad I choose to be a teacher, I may have chosen a different profession if health insurance wasn't such an important requirement.

Me: Is diabetes a big part of your life?

Evan: Honestly, I forget I’m diabetic half the time. Everything I do is just so automatic. The only time I complain about being diabetic is when I have to get out of bed in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom.

Me: Cheryl, does Evans diabetes play a big role in your life?

Cheryl: Not at all.

Evan: I think the biggest way I inconvenience Cheryl, is when my alarm goes off in the middle of the night. She helps me out, but generally…our life is just a normal one.


(The boys and Evan with their Minimed Pumps)

We wish we were this crafty!

Last week I won the contest on Lora's blog to celebrate her 100th post.

Let me tell ya...It pays to be a stalker. :) Comments equal love people...how many time do I have to tell you!

Friday night I came home to a package on my porch. I was like a child who just found a big box of candy on her doorstep...I'm pretty sure I giggled like a 4 year old when I saw it.

I picked it up like the treasure it was and ran to get my camera.

Dead battery. :( Boring!

So since it was late, I let the battery charge and waited until the next day.

So the next morning, I opened it up...


(Okay, she got my attention really quick...)

I carefully unwrapped the bubble wrap...



And found all kind of homemade wonderfulness inside...











Each card, tag, pen, clip...everything...made with love and care by Lora.

So what do you think? Is the woman that sent this package...our blogger friend, our face book friend, our chat friend, our wonderful real life friend...really...Martha Stewart in disguise???

I love every inch of what was made for me. I can't wait to send them out to the very special people in my life.

Thank you Lora. Your mad crafting skills AMAZE me! You are a blessing to us all!

A good cry.

A friend posted this on Facebook this morning. I know I've heard it before, but today it hit me especially hard. Last week a friend of mine lost her sister to Type 1. Yesterday another friend had a second son diagnosed with Type 1. There are so many things I wish for these families and all the families I love out there in this big world...but my biggest wish is for the children, related perfectly in the video below.



Come on...we were all due for a good cry anyway.

Love you!

That’s how we roll…

We have been running around having a fun summer. When we put the house on the market, Realtors began parading hosts of potential buyers through our home, which means we have been kicked to the curb daily.

NO harm done though…it has been keeping us off our butts.

We have been bicycling, walking, going to the fair, the movies, the city, and hanging out at the in laws. With the house on the market, we have stayed close to home, trying to make the best of it.

Personally, I think the most spectacular parts of our summer has been the places we have checked the boys blood sugars...

On top of a Ferris wheel

On a ferry boat in the middle of the San Francisco Bay

In the stands watching a dolphin show at Six Flags

In the line at Baskin Robbins

In the middle of Toy Story 3, by the light of my iphone

On a bench by the bathrooms in Ikea

On the jungle gym at the playground

In the children’s book section at Target

In the car on the freeway

At every restaurant table we have eaten at

My favorite though was in my in-laws backyard. B fell while riding his bike and sported a fair sized scrape on his leg. He checked his sugar with the extra blood.

Diabetes doesn’t take a break for fun. It comes along uninvited…shouting for attention. But what ev’. We don’t give it more attention than it absolutely requires. We stop and check blood sugars, wherever, whenever…with whoever watching us.

Because that is how we roll.

We are not afforded the convenience of caring what others think. When a boy needs to be checked…dang straight we are going to check him.

Hell or high water…WHEREVER we stand.

I know people watch. If it wasn’t my family, I would be watching too. It is fascinating what we do to keep our children alive. Every blood sugar check is important. Every unit or fraction of a unit is vital.

Our blog friend Hallie hit the nail on the head yesterday with a post on this very subject.

She has shouted the motto of every parent and person in the DOC…”I’m not a doctor, but I play one in real life.”

Check out her post. It puts it all into perspective.

D has given us honorary degrees from some kind of Diabetic Medical School. We practice wherever there is a need. We don’t have offices…we are out in the trenches of life. We save lives on the spot. If there is a need, we are ready.

Even on top of Ferris wheels…

The Facts of Our Diabetic Life

It's been a crazy week! My brain is fried…so I present to you, my life in facts.

FACT #1: I predicted on Facebook we would have an offer on our house this week.

FACT #2: Offer on the table…waiting to see if it will pan out.

FACT #3: Perfect house still available. (Although a little unsure since all my blogger friends seem to think the offer didn’t pan out the first time because it is probably run over by demonic scorpions.)

FACT #4: It would take a million miracles for this all to work out like we want…luckily for me….I believe in miracles.

FACT #5: We have had a couple of people come through the house everyday…which leads to me smattering the house with all kinds of chemicals. As a result, our medical alert dog Lawton has been a bit off his game.

FACT #6: A few long night of lows because Lawton is struggling.

FACT #7: But DANG! Our house has never been so immaculate for such a long period of time. Kinda nice.

FACT #8: If I had a choice, I would choose Lawton’s alerts over immaculate ANY day.

FACT #9: The kids have been hanging out with my sister in law A LOT.

FACT #10: She even had them over night this week.

FACT #11: She is a total rock star.

FACT #12: We had a home showing yesterday morning, and I had to hide the blood drops on my son’s pillow case with a stuffed animal.

FACT #13: I wish One Touch would send me 20 free meters. I’m a meter hoarder, and I’ve only got one left in the box.

FACT #14: I’m waiting patiently for the gift I won from Lora. My husband got a big box delivered from work yesterday and I thought it was from her. I took a pic of it and only realized it wasn’t from her when I tried to pick it up and it was like 100 pounds…

FACT #15: The weather here has been GORGEOUS!!!!

FACT #16: My six year old told me today that sometimes he gives himself the wrong carb amounts on his pump, and he doesn’t tell me because, as he puts it, “once I push ACT, it’s already too late, right?”

FACT #17: After a lengthy talk about it NEVER being too late and he should tell me right away…he told me at dinner that he gave himself 60 carbs. He knew it was supposed to be 65, but he tried to explain to me that the real problem is his finger was just trigger happy. He was so focused on getting to the 60’s that once he got there he would deliver it. He was amazed that we could just add on 5 more carbs after the first delivery and all would be ok.

FACT #18: My new favorite TV show is American Pickers.

FACT #19: My new LEAST favorite TV show is Pawn Stars. (That guy is such a jerk!)

FACT #20: I wish I had time to blog every day. But its summer… and summer is all about getting out of the house and having fun!

The straw that saved the camel's back

I’m not going to lie. There have been a couple times in my life, admittedly more than I can count, where I have silently threatened, “If I have to check a blood sugar ONE MORE TIME, I’m gonna LOSE it!” Which we all know is a bunch of hooey cause, yeah…I’ll be checking someone in like an hour for sure.

But you get what I mean, right?

Once in awhile, we just get overrun with the little things. Now not to toot my own horn or anything, but back in the day when the boys weren’t too keen on poking themselves, I was the gal in charge…

8 times a day…times 3 boys…24 blood sugar checks a day.

And sick days? Forget about it! Times that by two, (at least!) NOT FUN.

Back in the day when my husband worked nights…and days…well, ALL the time…he went to bed before I did and I was in charge of the 10:00pm check. It was always the check I dreaded the most. Because no matter what…someone was off. Walking to their room was like walking the green mile. I always took the walk slowly and allowed myself a deep breath before the checks…I was going to fail someone, I was always sure of it.

Add to that the anxiousness of the moment…not knowing what was on the other side of that three second countdown on the monitor, and you can get a pretty good idea of my state of mind.

10:00pm check = Meri on the edge.

I’m sure it is common for all D parents to hold their breath when doing a nighttime blood sugar check. You NEVER know what that number will be. Sure, you hope it is a good one…you expect it to be a good one…but there is never a sure thing. NEVER. The 10:00pm check tells us if we are going to sleep or not. Where the night is going...it is a lot to take in.

A couple years ago my hubby started a new job and I happily handed him over the 10:00pm check. Well, I didn’t really hand it over…I more like forced it on him…but seriously…Best decision EVER. These days I jump in and help in once in awhile, but truth is, I’ve been doing bulk of the 10pm checks for 12 years now…HIS TURN. Letting go of that one thing has made a ton of difference.

NOW blood sugar checks don’t bother me. The boys do a lot of them themselves. My husband does the 10pm…I’m happy to do the rest.

It is funny how changing up the routine just a tiny bit can change your outlook on everything. I absolutely recommend you give it a shot. If you are overwhelmed and feeling like you are doing it all on your own, have a little talk with the hubby or wifey. Hand him/her over one thing. You would NOT believe the euphoria. It is like your load has been lightened tenfold.

I’m not kidding. Little things add up. It only takes one straw to break the camels back…maybe if you lessen your load by ONE THING…that is the straw that makes everything lighter.

If your spouse isn’t stepping up to the plate, time for tough love. They need get over it. They need to do ONE THING. One thing every day. Maybe they can count dinner carbs and bolus for dinner. Maybe they can do the morning check. Maybe they can get the pump ready for a site change. Maybe they can go to the pharmacy. Maybe they can measure out the cereal in the morning.

ONE THING.

I’m living proof. It makes your brain less puffy.

Now I don’t want you all to think that my hubby did nothing before taking over the 10pm check. He does 99% of the site changes, and he has always been my partner in crime when he was around. He would do things if I asked. But when our situation changed, I knew I needed him to help out more, because he could. The biggest thing is I don’t have to ask him to do it. It is understood. It is a burden lifted. I don’t have to think about it anymore. And the less space set aside in my brain for remembering diabetes stuff, the better.

Because honestly, my brain/attic is stuffed with information, so much so I would gladly hold a yard sale to lighten the load.

For sale: Remember that B goes low in the late afternoon every day.
Anyone? Anyone? For you, I’ll let go of that bit of fodder REAL cheap. I got TONS of stuff like this packed up to the rafters of my brain. So you can see how removing one of these things might make room for a little sanity.

So I’ll get off my soapbox and hope that a little of my craziness rubbed off on you, and you are ready to march up to your spouse (or maybe cozy up to your spouse) and say…ONE THING every day….what will it be?

Because the reason the little things get to us sometimes is because in diabetes land…every little thing, is really a big thing. Every sugar check is important. Every carb count is important. Every decision we make on our diabetic childs behalf…is important.

I saw this quote from Helen Keller and thought it was spot on:

“I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it my chief duty to accomplish small tasks as if they were great and noble.”

Now isn’t it selfish to keep all that nobility to yourself?

Meri's Soap Opera...These are the days of her life...

It wasn’t pretty people.

We had an offer on our house. They people LOVED our house. They paid for all the inspections. They even had the appraiser there that morning…so we felt good.

We had found the perfect house. In the perfect location. With the perfect amount of space.

Hello…I’m not exaggerating…PERFECT.

We put in an offer.

We were elated hoping they would accept it. We had full on perma-grin for two hours.

Yeah, only for two hours.

Because two hours after we put an offer in a house, we were called with the news that OUR buyer suddenly backed out. So we had to take the offer for our dream house off the table.

It was over that quickly.

So I did what most people would do in my situation…I felt sorry for myself.

But since I’m not like most people, I then I took it a step further. I went through all the emotions of a catastrophic event. I was able to keep most of it to myself, but man, it was like my brain was on rocket fuel…ready to take off to outer space at anytime.

You might not believe this…but I was feeling SO sorry for myself I couldn’t even blog. I know! GASP!! Or even…get this…read others blogs. I even wasn't that keen on facebook either. That is pretty serious in my book.

I was in my self-pity/depressive/why is life so unfair state.

So since I couldn’t sleep I grabbed the only book on our bookshelf I hadn’t read…a John Grisham book my husband bought for our trip last year that he never opened.

For two days I read. I read and read…trying to keep my mind off the real world. Trying to change my dreams from houses to courtrooms, and to some degree it worked.

I finished the book last night at 1am. The ending sucked. The bad guy came out on top. It WAS NOT the ending I had been waiting for.

My husband tried to use it as a parable. He said sometimes we don’t get the ending we want in books and in life.

It was really hard not to karate chop him in the neck.

He then said we could have bigger things to deal with. He mentioned some of my blogging friend’s families who have had difficult times lately.

Even though he was entirely right…I REALLY wanted to karate chop him then.

Too bad I don’t know karate.

I don’t know why I’m putting all my selfishness out on the table for the world to see…but I needed to document it for some reason. Maybe I need to get it all down so I can move on.

I’m going to do my best to catch up on what is surly 100 blogs that I have missed this week. I think that last sentence nicely attests to the fact that I have been completely self indulgent in my misery because here I am writing a blog that many will read when I haven’t read anyone else’s for like 3 days or more.

But I think what is important here, is the fact that I’m feeling better today. I’m emerging from my funk and looking outward rather than inward. I’m back baby!!! And it feels good.

Back to square one. I have woken up from my WOE IS ME COMA and will now go on with my life.

Dramatic much?

Why yes, yes I am, thankyouverymuch.

In it to win it...together.

I was looking at my boys this morning. They are so big and have come so far. The journey they have taken so far has already been epic.

My three youngest were diagnosed as babies. 8 months. 2 years. 5 years. They needed so much help for years…we did E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G. for them.

But now…NOW…things are different. They check their own sugars when they wake up. They often make their own breakfast, they count their own carbs…they bolus themselves. Even my 6 year old knows how many carbs are in a bowl of cereal, or a piece of toast, or his favorite, Eggo's. He knows if he has milk with his Eggo's he needs to use the little glass, and then add 10 more carbs. And if he forgets, my 12 year old is there to remind him. CRAY-Z!

It is so surreal.

They still totally need me of course…but life is so much easier now. Easier…not easy, but hell, it is a cake walk compared to when they were babies.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again…those years were all a blur to me. I didn’t blog then, so my fuzzy memory is like an old broken down TV giving short grainy flashes of what was. The worry was deafening. I couldn’t focus on much more than their care. My husband was working 15 hour days then. Our marriage was strong…but only existed in two hour increments here and there. Sleep was a rare luxury. It is all there in my memory, but a distant echo of what was.

I’m glad I don’t relive it every day. I’m glad I have almost forgotten the archaic insulin my 8 month old was on…and the insane expectations that came with it. But lately, the babies have been on my mind.

Not my babies…those in our blogging community. I read their blogs and it breaks my heart. I know about the erratic blood sugar numbers that sometimes seem IMPOSSIBLE to fix. I know about the effect it has on their little personalities. I know their story. It is the same as mine.

I know.

So today I just wanted to send some love out to the babies and their parents. And I want to tell them that someday…someday soon, but not soon enough…it will be easier. You will soon share the responsibility with your baby. And your baby will surprise you at every corner with their bravery, their strength, their perspective and wit.

Your baby will amaze you. As my babies have today.

They will count carbs. They will give their own insulin. They will share the responsibility and it will make a huge difference in your life. You won’t be in it alone anymore…you’ll be in it together.

And together my friends, makes all the difference.

From Zero to Hero

You know that saying…”Sometimes your best isn’t good enough?”

Well in my life I often feel like…”Most of the time, my best isn’t good enough.”

I fail a lot.

In my eyes anyway.

It’s hard to fail ALL the time. It wears on me. It is overwhelming. Every time the boy’s blood sugars are not in range, I feel like I fail. It’s a ding to my armor…and my armor is seriously unrecognizable these days friends…it’s hanging on by a thread so to speak.

But, I walk around like my armor is all shiny and dent free…I can pretend anything away these days. A number will pop up…and I say, “It is what it is…let’s fix it and move on!” But on the inside I’m bracing for the new armor ding. Sometimes it comes as soon as I see the number…sometimes it comes in the shower when I am alone and can cry it out.

But here is the thing. Even though I feel like I fail all the live-long day…I look at my boys and I wonder, “How are they not a big affirmation of my failure?" Because they don’t look like a failure raised them.

They are beautiful. And smart. They are healthy. And happy.

Practically perfect in every way.

How can I fail so often and have such happy, well adjusted boys?

Maybe because my failures aren’t really failures? (Stay with me here…I’m trying to work this all out in my ridiculously swelly achy brain.)

Maybe, maybe…my failures are really small victories. AHA! A high blood sugar! I stab it in the gut with insulin and bring it down as quickly as possible. That is a win, right? The high isn’t staying there for days or even hours on end, is it? I karate chop it in the neck…and move onto my next victim. AHA! A low blood sugar! I nurse it back to health with quick acting sugar and a pep talk that would rival any NBA coach. I fix it. Is that not a win?

Every time we fix a blood sugar, it is a victory.

I think we’ve been looking at this all wrong. Well at least I have. I think all those blood sugars that are just not right…and let’s face it there are a lot…may be our chance to kick diabetes arse.

Maybe I’m not a failure.

Maybe I’m a warrior.

A kick butt one…one that has a rockin bod and long flowy hair…like She-RA or something.

Maybe I start off losing these battles…but I always end up winning in the end. I win every dang one of them. EVERY TIME. Sure, sometimes the battle goes on for hours…but it is won eventually. And in the grand scheme of things…isn’t that a victory?

Persevering…not giving up?

I will NEVER give up!

I will fight to the end!

After all…only failures give up.

And for this warrior and all her warrior friends out there…giving up will never be an option.

It is time for the boys snack, and that means another sugar check....CHARGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Reenactment: Too tired parents.

11:00pm the night before the last day of school.

The boy’s blood sugars are 108, 112 and 183. (A total miracle they are all pretty good.) The parents are on their way to bed when…

Mom: “You checked B’s insulin on board, right?”

Dad: “No, I thought you did.  You checked L’s IOB, right?”

Mom: “No, I thought you did.”

(Parents do an about face and check IOB only to find that both boys need a small snack to make it through the night.)

Dad: Sets one alarm for the 1am check, and the other for 3:30am for his sales meeting… and then collapses into bed.

Mom: “Man alive, I am EXHAUSTED! You have no idea!” Her back to him, small smirk on her face. She knows her hubby worked like 12 hours today, and then attended the 6th grade promotion like she had. He wasn't probably more exhausted, he was definitely more exhausted. But that is how she rolls.

Dad: “Yup, you are right…I have no idea…your exhaustion is always better than mine.”

Mom: “I wouldn’t say better…maybe just 100 times more intense.”

Dad: “I bow to your exhaustion.”

Mom: “I can’t tell you how happy I am that tomorrow is the last day of the school year.”

Dad: “I don’t get why you are you so happy about it?”

Mom: “Duh, sleep baby! I’m officially dubbing this summer: The Summer of Sleep.”

Dad: “So I can’t call you in the morning during the week?”

Mom: “Nope, no calls until after 11:00. I’m going to get up and feed the kids, bolus them, and go back to sleep.” (She’s grinning ear to ear now…she knows this is a complete fantasy…but one she will dream of tonight none the less.)

Dad: “Hmmmm…The Summer of Sleep. I feel a blog coming on! It’s kinda’ like I just walked into a giant stadium and the crowd is waiting for the big game, and you can cut the tension with a knife…a blog is coming for sure.”

Mom: “I'm super impressed you can predict the future in your exhausted state. You're slurring your words...you need sleep.  But I’m still more exhausted than you…”

Dad: “I’m not worthy of your exhaustion.”

Mom: “It is my higher calling. Too bad you don’t read my blog…you would understand that my mental exhaustion even outweighs my physical exhaustion.”

Dad: “I read your blog. I just do it discreetly. It’s pretty good.”

Mom: “You wish you could blog pretty good like me.”

Dad: “Yeah, me to blogging is like Brittney spears to acting.”

Mom: “Brilliant!”

Dad: “Me to blogging is like William Hung to singing.”

Mom: “I need to get paper…I can’t make this stuff up…you are totally off your rocker…”

Dad: Singing. “I am the rocket maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan.”

Mom: “You have lost it.”

Dad: “No, I think that is what William Hung sung on American Idol.”

Mom: “This conversation has gone on way too long. I’m already so confused about how we got to William Hung.”

Dad: “I don’t need sleep…I’m getting up for the 1am check…that is how much I don’t need sleep.”

(Two hours later, the alarm goes off and the exhausted husband gently, but firmly, nudges his dear wife off the bed with his foot. But she is totally ok with it…tomorrow is the last day of school…and the Summer of Sleep will soon begin!)

I may have never met this girl before...but I knew her better than she'd ever know.

We walk by hundreds of people a day. Walk by them and don’t give them a thought. Their lives are a complicated woven web of facts and information, feelings and experiences. But once in awhile, we stop and notice someone. We look up from our hectic crazy life and SEE someone. And they touch your heart.

I had such an experience last Friday at a Wendy’s of all places.

After I had picked up J from camp, we were not able to return home for an hour as a realtor was showing our house to some clients.

So we went to the corner Wendy’s for a long chat about his experiences at camp. But before we even had a chance to sit down at our table…I saw her.

A beautiful young blond girl with the tell tale black blood sugar monitor case sitting beside her.

I knew it the instant I saw her. I knew what that case was. I knew that she was Type 1.

She was with her grandmother, and there was a sort of desperation in her Grandmothers voice as she fiddled with her cell phone and told the young girl that she would try another number.

“I’m pretty sure you should give yourself 2 units…but I want to be sure. I’ll try this number.”

The pretty young girl sat quietly gingerly eating fries as she patiently waited for her grandmother to get hold of her parents.

(Fair warning, I am a wicked eavesdropper...)

Once the grandmother got a parent she told them she was 62, and wanted to make sure the best course of action. The grandmother was frazzled…worried. The girl was cool as a cucumber. Patiently waiting.

There was a air about her...an air of maturity. She wasn't snobby by any means...it was just her calm demeanor told me she was wise beyond her years. I guessed she wasn't recently diagnosed. I have seen children carry themselves the same way before...in fact I had one of those children sitting right in front of me at the time.

Once information was transferred from parents to grandmother to girl...they ate and spoke. J checked his own blood sugar and left his black case on the table next to him. He hadn’t seen the girl.

We were two feet away from each other. I kept looking from her monitor to his. I tried really hard to focus on J. I had missed him so much this week and wanted to know of all his adventures…but there was another blood sugar monitor right there…I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

All I could think of was Jessica’s post.

“Same.”

I kept thinking it.

“Same.”

This little girl held a place in my heart, I knew nothing of her life…I didn’t even know her name…

But none the less…”Same.”

J and I had finished, and I just couldn’t walk away.

I walked up to her and said in probably the lamest way possible, “So you belong to the type 1 club too?”

The quiet girl smiled a wide grin, “Yes I do.”

She started talking a mile a minute. She saw our dog and wanted to know everything about him. I found out she was from Hawaii, visiting her grandmother. She was 11, diagnosed at 18 months old. She was on lantus and humalog…and was nervous to start a pump.

J told her it would change her life. That she would feel more in control of her own body. I watched him encouraging this girl, and I was so proud of him. He was confident with his pump. He truly wanted her to take the leap. He has lived before and after. It was a so surreal to watch him…he was so sure about what he was telling her.

“No pressure or anything,” he said, “just for me, it’s awesome.”

We said our goodbyes and walked away.

I’m sure I walked by 12 other people as we walked out of Wendy’s. Each living a complicated life…each with their own story to tell…but I didn’t give any of them a second look. My mind was still on the young girl. Her life wasn’t a mystery to me. I knew her the second I laid eyes on her.

She was the same.

J Update!

I am completely overwhelmed. When I read the responses to my plea from my last post, I was bowled over by the love and compassion.

I have friends checking up on us right and left, and I can’t tell you how good it feels to know that so many angels got my back.

I finally have an update about J.

He didn’t call yesterday, so my husband ventured out to camp to check up on him today.

He found him huddled in a large tent area playing games with his friends. He was elated to see Ryan, apparently because it broke some of the monotony.

J says they have been imprisoned for the past few days. They haven’t been able to do any of the planned activities because of the crazy rain. He says they have been completely bored.

:(

Ryan asked if he wanted to go home, and he said, “Yes, but I’m not going to. If it were because I was having problems with my sugars, then it would be ok. But it doesn’t seem fair just to leave because I am bored.”

Hello awesomeness.

Speaking of numbers…

Ryan says that his numbers have been PHENOMENAL! He actually used the word phenomenal over and over again. He said there were a couple lows…one 55 on the first day, one in the seventies and one in the eighties, but otherwise every gosh dang number has been in the 100’s. He has been checking his BG AT LEAST 5 times a day, and is on track to earn that 50 bucks I promised him.

Could it be that he is just so much better than me at taking care of his body?

Or do his numbers show that it is a proven fact that prayer works?

I have no doubt that his success, although greatly attributed to his amazing self, also have something to do with the prayers and good thoughts that YOU, my friends, have sent my way.

He will be home tomorrow. I’m going to make it a point to sleep like a rock tonight. Not only for me, but for J too. He deserves a mom that can trust him after he has put in the hard work. I trust that he will continue to take good care of himself until tomorrow. I’m talking the talk, and now it’s time to walk the walk. I’m officially done worrying about 6th grade camp.

I’m not done over reacting and worrying all together…not by a long shot. But I feel confident that J’s got this.

(((BIG*FAT*DEEP*BREATH)))