Talent Show

Our church had a talent show--Maddie (age 9) chose to sing "Mighty To Save". The camera shaking is me trying not to ball my eyes out. I was and am SO proud of her!!! She is so much more brave than I am.

4th of July

Maddie was asked by our music minister to sing this on Sunday July 4, 2010. We should always remember to thank those who serve our country.

What Have We Been Up To?

Wow--it's been a while. Spring, going into summer, is always super busy for our family. I feel like there are so many things to say, and to catch up on. Instead, I'll post some pics of some things Maddie has done, just to prove that nothing's going to stop her. Not even stupid old diabetes.....

Maddie the jumproper

Maddie the wiffle ball player





Maddie the gymnast




Maddie the fashionista




Maddie the diva

Maddie the roller coaster rider
(Carrowinds--and man, was that a nerve racking trip! High, then low, then high, then low....)

Maddie the caterpillar rider
(and no, thank goodness, she didn't throw up!)




Maddie the swinger
(well, you know what I mean.....)
that's her in the white shirt, mouth wide open, screaming

Oh, please......




Maddie the water bug

Maddie the 4th of July soloist
(video to come later.....)

Maddie, queen of the skate rink
(plus her BFF, Grace)




Maddie the maker of cupcakes
(well, we tried.....)




Maddie the soccer girl
(she's a tough cookie on the field!)

And those are some of the highlights of the past few months. Thanks for checking them out! We love our blog friends!!

Celiac

NEGATIVE RESULTS FOR CELIAC DISEASE! Yay!!!

Whew~


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Should I, or Shouldn't I?

Every time I see a child who has to use the bathroom constantly, I always think, "I bet she has diabetes, and they need to get her checked....." But I'm not bold enough to go up to the parent and scare the living daylights out of them.

Although, I would have appreciated it if someone would have said, "Your daughter is almost 6 years old and wearing a size 2T. And she's wetting the bed, when she's never done that, even when she was potty training. And she drinks constantly, and goes to the bathroom constantly. And her eyes are sort of sunken in. You should probably get her checked for diabetes."

There's a little girl on Reilly's soccer team that is 4 years old, and has to go to the bathroom probably every 10 minutes. I know this because my husband coaches the team, and she'll run off the field, mid game, and have to run to the port-a-john, leaving him wondering why they are 1 kid short on the field.

Last Saturday, as I watched her go back and forth and back and forth with her mom, I almost suggested that they get her checked for diabetes. Or better yet, say, "I've got a glucometer in my purse--let me check her blood sugar, and give you a heart attack at the same time!"

But, I didn't. And for the rest of the day, I couldn't help but wonder if she really does have it, and should I have suggested it to her parents.

I mean, come on--if anyone knows the signs of high blood sugar, it's the mother of a diabetic, right? I'm not sure what to do next Saturday. I wouldn't want this family to find out in an emergency room, or get a phone call that the little girl has passed out at school. But I also don't want to blurt out, "I'LL BET SHE HAS DIABETES--AN AWFUL DISEASE THAT SHE'LL HAVE FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE--AND ALSO ONE THAT WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE VERY DIFFICULT! YOU SHOULD HAVE HER CHECKED FOR IT!"

I'm always quick to tell my friends and acquaintances what Maddie's symptoms were, just in case their child may show symptoms, and maybe they should get them checked. The sooner the better is what I believe. It's better than getting a shocking phone call, right?

Hhmmm.....what to do....what to do.....

Oh No--I'm Bleeding!!

I look tired all the time. This would be because I stay up until around 2 am, in order to check Maddie as late as I possible can, (hence the LATE night blog entries).

I do this for 2 reasons-- 1) I don't trust that the blood sugar reading before bed was on it's way up, or on it's way down, therefore causing her to crash in the middle of the night, and 2) I don't trust Maddie's pump. I spent 2 years controlling the insulin through shots, and now that I don't have to do that, I can't believe that a little $7,000 pump can figure out what my brain has been trained to do.

Anyway, every night, I go into her room and do the same routine. Every night. EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. I always scoot her skinny legs out of the way, set her meter on her little tummy, watching it rise and fall as she breathes, then I put the strip in the meter, get the lancet ready, get her ring finger (because that the one SHE uses the least throughout the day,) and then stick her and put her blood on the strip.

As I wait for the reading, which takes about 4 or 5 seconds, I'll wipe off her blood so that she doesn't accidentally get it on her bedding while she sleeps. Then I either correct her, or give her tablets, or hopefully do nothing, and leave her room.

At this point, I always go straight into my bathroom and wash my face and brush my teeth. But the funny thing is, that almost every night, I have blood on either my first finger, or my thumb, depending on which way I was balancing the meter while I was wiping off her finger. And almost every night seeing the dried blood on my hand startles me.

I don't know why I do this--I do it almost every night. I'm not afraid of blood, or anything like that, it's just that as an adult, if I'm ever bleeding, I usually know about it. But EVERY SINGLE NIGHT, it's there, and it always startles me. My first reaction is always, "Oh no! I've got blood on my hand! What have I done to myself?" Then almost immediately I realize that it's Maddie's blood, and I wash my hands.

It's become a habit that as I wash my hands, almost every night, at 2:00 in the morning, I think to myself that it's sad that I've got my daughter's blood on my hands almost every night. That should not be allowed. I shouldn't have to poke and prod my child to draw blood as she sleeps. No one should have to do that. It's just not fair. Just another reason that I hate diabetes.....

The Dreaded Appointment

Every other month we see our endo, and on the way there, I dread finding out what Maddie's A1C is. This time was no different. Alas, the A1C machine (don't know what it's called) beeped, so I asked. She had gone from 8.5 to 8.7. Although I was glad she wasn't in the 9's, going UP was not the direction that I was hoping to have gone.

I allow Maddie to be a little higher at night, or I don't give her the complete correction, because I have this eminent fear that she will crash during the night, and not wake up. Because whatever the number is, I don't know if it's going up, or down at a rapid pace.  (We do not have the CGM at this point in time.) This is my problem--she's too high during the night and first thing in the morning. And it's all my fault. I've come to grips with this. I take full responsibility.

I HATE DEALING WITH THIS STUPID DISEASE.

In addition to screwing up her A1C, her height and weight has gone from the 50th percentile, to the 25th percentile over the last year. Yeah, I know--I'm such a great mom.....not. My child is shrinking. Well, actually, she's not shrinking, she's just not growing.

I HATE DIABETES!!!

"But she's picky!" and "She isn't hungry much of the time!" and "She eats healthy food MOST of the time, so she's probably not getting enough calories!" These were my ignorant and useless justifications for my reprimanding from the doctor. Basically, she's not eating ENOUGH, therefor, not getting enough insulin. Could this be any more difficult to grasp in my little blonde brain?

Everytime I read other type 1 moms' blogs, I learn something new--like how the humidity can alter blood sugars, or how allergies to pollen can send you through the roof. Will I ever get the hang of this? I mean, come on, people--you would think that after almost 5 years, I would have gotten the hang of this by now.

Nope. Did I mention that I hate this stupid disease?

Pulling an All-Nighter

Maddie has been looking forward to her first soccer practice for weeks. Thursday April 1st was the sought after day. She's had her practice clothes out for weeks, which by the way, are coordinated with her socks, shin guards, and pink striped cleats. Incidentally, she also had decided that she would wear 2 low pony tails behind her ears, instead of the conventional 1 pony tail on the back of the head.

The pink and purple soccer ball from Justice has been in her hot pink adidas bag for a few days now, and the hot pink water bottle was washed and ready to go. I had informed Maddie and her brother to fill their water bottles and put them in the freezer a few hours before time to go. It was 80 degrees here today, so I knew they would need them frozen, in order for them to be cold at practice.

Well, 5:30 came and my 2 soccer players went, and the water bottles remained in the freezer. In my defense, there's only so much one person can handle at once, and I was furiously trying to feed them before they hit the road.

So, of course, I had forgotten to give the kids their water. Fortunately there was a Sheetz on the way to the field, so my husband stopped off and got each of them a big cold Aquafina.

Upon arriving at the field, both kids jumped out of the car, as if it were Christmas morning, and ran to the field. My husband, who was coerced into coaching the 5 year-olds, followed close behind, carrying all of his stuff.

Lo and behold, there was one important thing left in the car--Maddie's water. Not that of my husband, or my 5 year-old rough and tough soccer dude, but alas, it was Maddie's water.

Now, we all know the horrible cycle of dehydration for those of us who don't have diabetes, but for a diabetic, it's sooooo much worse. Dehydration leads to high blood sugars, ketones, and all kinds of other lovely things. The last time Maddie was severely dehydrated, we were instructed to take her to the ER, where she was hooked up to an IV all day. I will give anything in order to avoid that traumatic experience again.

When Maddie returned from practice, she was in the 500's. Because she had been active for an hour prior to that check, I took off 100, and corrected her for 400. I do take her pump off when she plays sports, because let's face it--I don't want to purchase another $7,000 pump, when I am barely able to pay for this one. She will usually go high because of adrenaline, but I can't always count on that, so I like her to be on the high side when she's going to be active.

Anyhoo, knowing there was no basil for an hour or so, I was expecting her to be high when she got home, but also expected her to go low quickly, once her adrenaline stopped, and she was able to cool down. All of this time, no one, except for Maddie was aware that she had had NO water the entire practice.

An hour after the initial post-practice check, she was in the high 400's, so I corrected her again, this time for the whole amount, but I set the pump alarm to go off in 1 hour so I could recheck and see where she was, thinking that she would be very low.

She got in the shower, messed around in her room for a bit, and when the hour was up, I checked her again. Still in the 400's. So I changed her site. No big deal. Then it was bedtime, and off to bed she went, with her meter in tow. I would be checking her again before I hit the hay.

At about 11:00, she came down the steps complaining that she was freezing and almost violently shivering. OK, this is one thing I had not seen her ever do, unless she was scared by a thunderstorm, or unless the heat was broken in our house. I checked her, and she had gone down to near her normal range. She felt warm, so I checked her temperature, and she was around 100, but that was while shivering, so I'm not really sure if that was even accurate.

We gave her Tylenol, a bottle of water in order to check ketones at a later time, wrapped her up in my Snuggie (leopard print--love it!!) and my husband carried her off to our bed, to snuggle her up and try to get her warm.

A while later, I checked on them, and she was wide awake watching Cory in the House, and Shawn was snoring like a jack hammer, as usual. She was still sipping on her water, and had checked her ketones, which turned out to be "small". I figured this was partly because of the whole water bottle situation that had gone down earlier in the evening.

I checked her temperature once again, and she was 104!!! She's my first of 3 children, and I've been fortunate enough to have healthy kids (other than diabetes), who catch the occasional bug, or cold, or every now and then get an ear infection, but I've NEVER had a child with a fever of 104. That's as high as my thermometer goes, and I didn't think it ever really went that high.

So after a call to the Endo at 1:30 a.m., who was out of town, then a call to the pediatrician, who wants to see her in the morning, we put her in a luke-warm bath, and put cooler pajamas on her.

Now, here I sit at my computer, which will be my companion for a while tonight, as I sit and wait for my opportunities to check her blood sugar every 2 hours, ketones as often as she has to use the bathroom, temperature, and administer Tylenol/Ibuprofen every 3 hours, and try to convince her to drink, drink, drink at any opportunity that she wakes up.

I'd rather not try to sleep, for fear that I will inadvertently turn off the alarm, not realizing that it's going off for a reason. Plus, I'm able to stay awake, with adequate TV shows and movies DVR'd, and Thursday night happens to be a good TV night. Not to mention that my only sleeping option is in Reilly's bunk bed, in which I will either be kicked in the face all night, or sleep with transformers, who happened to have gathered on the top bunk. Maddie's bed, which, while it is very comfortable, it is a day bed/trundle, and I happen to like to stick my feet out sometimes, and you know how day beds are--they're all tucked in. I know, I know.....it's really late, and I'm getting a little loopy.....

Anyhoo, I'm hoping the fever will go away, or go down to a normal 100 or so, and that there will be NO ketones, and normal blood sugars. Maybe this is, in fact, strep, as the pediatrician suggested, or maybe she's just really dehydrated, which is my intuition. You know what they say--a mother always knows, and my mom was always right about everything. At least that's what I've learned at the ripe old age of 35. We'll see....

Reilly

When Maddie was diagnosed, she was almost 6, and being that her birthday is 10 days apart from her little brother's birthday, Reilly was almost 2.  He doesn't remember the wretched summer that she was diagnosed.  He doesn't really understand a lot about diabetes, but he knows that it's a serious thing in our family.

For a long time, he called it "beetees" and he knew that beetees hurt his Sissy, and that we don't like beetees, and that when you have beetees, you have to go to the doctor more times, get more shots, give more blood, and a whole lot of other scary things.

Over time, and after hearing us openly discuss the importance of Maddie's blood sugar, insulin, food, pump, exercise, and overall health, he's come to understand a little bit more about it....well, as much as a 5, almost 6 year old without diabetes can understand.....or so I thought. 

They play a lot together at home, so he has learned to be patient when it comes to waiting for her to check her blood, or waiting for her to give herself her insulin, or waiting while she gets her site changed.  He just knows that it's something that she has to do, and she can resume playing as soon as she's through with whatever it is that she needs to do.

Today, we were riding in the car, and as usual, we were in a rush.  And as any other frazzled mom would do, I drove through the McDonald's drive thru to feed my kids their lunch.  There is one very important thing here that I need to state in my defense.  Upon eating the entire contents of a happy meal, although nutritionally it's horrible for her to eat, I know the exact number of carbs she's putting into her body.

**For the record, I prefer Chick-Fil-A, but unfortunately, it's not on my way home.

Yes, I know that it is not real chicken, and everything is fried, and that essentially it's total crap, but nonetheless, I know the exact number of carbs that she's eating.

As we drove, she and I went through the whole song and dance, which goes a little something like this:

"Maddie, did you check your blood?"

"Yes."

"What were you?"

"127."

"Did you eat all your nuggets?"

"Yes."

"Did you eat all your fries?"

"Yes."

"Even the ones in the bottom of the box?"

"Yes, mama."

Then I tell her to give herself insulin for the correct number of carbs, according to the nutritional labels inside McDonald's, on the Happy Meal box, and on my nifty little iPhone app, in which I know ALL nutritional information of a bazillion food items at a bazillion different restaurants all over the USA.  And fortunately, it's correct every time.  She's never high afterward.....usually..... 

Anyhoo, my point to all of this is that after hearing us discuss this over and over, and after hearing us talk about diabetes at home, at church, at school, and after many explanations, I assumed that her brothers (to an extent) were as familiar with this disease as we are, in an age appropriate way, of course.  Honestly, I guess I had never thought about what they thought diabetes was, or how it "happened".    

The car was quiet, everyone was finishing up their fries and ready to tear open the almost-unopenable toy with their teeth, and I hear a little voice in the back of the car.  It was that of my sweet Reilly, my middle child, my almost-kindergartner, my rough and tough soccer player, and my one who gives some of the best kisses.

"Mama?"

"Yes?"

"I know you love Maddie, and I know you take good care of her, but could you PLEASE not give me beetees when I'm a big kid like her?"

All of a sudden, I realized that he knew NOTHING about diabetes.  Somehow, he thought that Shawn and I had "made" or "let" Maddie have diabetes.  He thought that we had given permission for this to happen to her, and that we may decide to let him or his brother have it, too.   

My heart broke into a thousand little pieces.  I don't even remember the drive home.  I didn't know what to say, or how to respond.  How could he think that I had control over this, and how could he think that I let Maddie have it?  Why would he think that?  Why would he think that I would do that to him?

After I gathered the pieces of myself that had been scattered by the words of a 5 year old, I thought about my response for just a minute.

"Reilly--Daddy and I didn't make Sissy get diabetes, and if I had been given a choice, I would NEVER have let her get it.  If I could, I would give anything in the world for her to NOT have it.  We wouldn't do that to any of our babies--you know that!  For some reason, God has allowed her to have diabetes, but it's okay, because we know that He is in control of it.  We don't know why now, and we'll never know why she has it.  But we are going to trust Him, and take good care of her so she stays healthy.  I don't think God wants you to have diabetes, although if He does someday, we'll know just how to take care of you.  But you know that no matter what, God is going to take care of all of us."

He didn't respond to my reply, and Maddie didn't chime in either.  Brendan, who is almost 3 and doesn't have much to say about anything, was also silent.  We drove the rest of the way home without a word.

I don't think Reilly was asking me that so that he could be selfishly assured that he was in the clear.  I don't even think that he even cared about my long and drawn out answer to his question.  Actually, I don't think anyone was even listening to what I was saying.  Unfortunately for me, that happens often in my family. 

I, however, was listening to the words that were coming out of my mouth.  I don't even think that they came from MY blond head.  I think it was just God's way of reminding me (yet again) that, not me, but He is in control of everything.

 My Reilly

The "S" Word

As adults, we find ourselves saying words that aren't really a big deal, when coming out of the mouths of adults.

"This outfit looks like crap on me" or "Shut up! That is TOO funny!" or "Trust me, I felt SO stupid!" or "Eww--I HATE anchovies!"

But as you have children, and you continue to say these "bad" words, you realize that out of all the thousands of words your child hears everyday, they will only repeat the things that you DON'T want them to repeat, and words that sound rather inappropriate coming out of a child's mouth.

I'll never forget when Maddie was in her "Terrible Two's" (before she was diagnosed) she picked up on our (incidentally, I place equal blame on my husband) use of these "bad" words, which were only ever used in a casual, non-threatening way.

"I hate my hair! Please tell me if it looks stupid!"

"Can you believe I put on 2 different socks?!? I just realized how stupid it looks. The lighting in this closet is so crappy!"

"I can't get this stupid can opener to work!!!" (Can I get an Amen on that one ladies? Does anyone REALLY have a can opener that actually works??)

Anyhoo, we learned very quickly that stupid, crap, hate, and shut up, although mostly used in jest, and not EVER used to hurt anyone's feelings, or to be mean, were words that we could not say in front of Maddie.

Fast forward 7 years and 2 more children, and still, I feel a sense of sudden regret when I slice my finger open, and let a "crap" slip, or see an advertisement for a pole dancing exercise DVD on TV, and say that it's "stupid" under my breath, only to be reminded by my 5 year old that "Ooooh--mama said a bad word!" knowing good and well that those will be the first 6 words out of his mouth when my husband gets home, or as soon as he walks into my parents' house for a visit.

Embarrassed, I always explain that while it IS a "bad" word, sometimes grown-ups use it, but not in a mean way, and when he is 35, he can use those words as much as he'd like. But not before then.

One morning recently, after we had been up all night checking blood and ketones, and eventually changing her site, Maddie and I, both VERY tired from the night before, were working on her schoolwork. The house was quiet, she was almost through, and she stopped and put her pencil down.

As we both happened to yawn at the same time, she said, "Mama, can I say a bad word?"

"Um....". What is the correct answer to that question?!?

"Just this one time while Reilly and Brendan aren't around."

Stunned, and before I could answer, she screamed, "Diabetes is STUPID, and I HATE it! It's nothing but CRAP!" And then she just looked at me, waiting fir my reaction.

After blurting out all of those obscenities, she still looked tired, but she had a slight sense of relief on her sweet little face. I have to admit, those words do sound far worse coming out of a sweet little 9 year-old, innocent mouth.

She sheepishly waited for me to scowl, or to reprimand her.

After all, she was simply stating the truth about something that we have to fight every day. Something that rules her life and interrupts everything she does. Something that NOT ONE of her friends has to deal with. Something that makes her different. Something that is unfair and tries to defeat her every minute of the day.

So obviously, I smiled wide, and proudly said, "Maddie, I couldn't agree with you more!"


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Incoherence and Adrenaline

Maddie had a fun filled evening with a friend, then attended a basketball game with my husband and Reilly.  When they got home, she checked her blood, and went to bed.  I don't know what it was because my husband had handled it.  The kids all went to bed at 10:00.  It's snowing outside, and I know that we aren't going to be able to go anywhere for the next day or two, so I didn't care that they were getting in bed so late.

Everything's fine.  The kids are asleep, Shawn is asleep, (unfortunately he's a early to bed person, and I'm a night owl), so I took the opportunity to watch some chick flicks I had DVR'd.

At about midnight, I hear footsteps on the stairs.  I'm good at footsteps.  I know who it is by the sound.  Reilly comes down slowly, steadily and quietly, all the way thinking up some imaginary ailment for which he needs medicine or a band aid, or a drink.  He's quiet because he peeps around the corner at me, knowing I'm going to say, "Get back to bed!"

Maddie comes down with a rhythmic pattern, almost like she's skipping, but still quietly because she knows I'm going to say, "What in the world are you doing out of bed??"

Brendan half steps and half slides, plus he's usually carrying some sort of blanket, or stuffed animal. He isn't quiet at all.  He comes running around the corner as if to say, "Here I am!  Out of bed!  Let's play!"

Another way I can tell is because Reilly holds the hand railing, Brendan runs his hands along the wall, and Maddie doesn't hold on at all.

But these steps were different.  It wasn't Shawn, because I could hear him snoring like a jack hammer upstairs.  These feet would go a few steps, then stop, then go a few steps faster, then stop, again.

Maddie came stumbling around the corner with that sleepy look on her face.  She wasn't looking at me, but she was trying to talk.  She was mumbling and incoherent, and looking all around the room, except she wasn't looking at me.   She was actually looking at the couch on the opposite side of the living room. 

"I'm......I've got to......I don't know....You know.....  What's that thing called?  Where's Mama?"

At this point, I'm frozen in fear, wondering if my Snuggie was making me camouflaged with the couch, or if she really didn't know where I was, and didn't know what she was saying.

As the "where's mama" was coming out of her mouth, (I was the only one awake, the only one downstairs, and I was right in front of her) I flew off the couch, literally, and went straight for the emergency glucose gel.  Incidentally, it's supposed to taste like cake icing, but she and I opened a tube one time, and I have to say--they didn't exactly hit the "icing" nail on the head.

Usually we do glucose tablets, but I didn't have time for those.  I didn't want to grab the Glucogon, because my hands were shaking, and I was afraid that would take too long, plus, that's for when they're passed out completely.  The gel is supposed to dissolve in your gums if you aren't able to swallow it quickly enough.

I threw that child down on the couch and squirted that whole tube in her mouth.  It probably looked like I was trying to kill her.  The funny thing about Maddie is that normally, she would have been fighting me because it "didn't taste good", but I don't think she even knew what was going on.

She never closed her eyes, (thank goodness) but the eerie thing was that it was like she was a zombie, and she was looking straight through me.  She never acts like that, even when I check her at 2 am, when she's the sleepiest of sleepy..

After about 10 minutes, she started to perk up, and I could tell she was out of the danger zone.  It was at that point that I checked her blood.  I hadn't checked it before, because I didn't have time.  Plus, I don't think I want to know how low she was.  After 10 minutes of getting the 24 gram, rapid acting glucose gel into her, she was just 70.  I would venture to guess that she had been in the 30's or 40's, but like I said, I don't want to know..... 

So, I held her for a while, we chatted, (she didn't remember coming down the stairs), and she eventually got back to her normal funny self.  She told me about the game, and what she did at her friend's house, and some other normal things.  I felt good about sending her off to bed, knowing that I would check her in less than 2 hours.

So off she went, and I finished my chick flick, not really watching it, still kind of stunned, thinking about the "what ifs".  When I checked her at 2 a.m., she was 349.  Ok, ok, I know....  So I went a little overboard on the carbs, but she scared the fire out of me, and I kind of went into that weird mother/adrenaline mode.  Yeah, that's it.  I'm blaming it on the adrenaline.

But, I corrected her, took a little off, just in case, and as she smiled her sweet little smile that she does to me every night as I'm sticking her and squeezing whatever blood I can get out of her finger, she cracked a little joke, and then off to dreamland she went.

Now, I'll continue to lay in the bed wide awake, all night, still thinking about the "what ifs" and listening to the sweet sound of my husband snoring like an annoying pack of geese, 6 inches from my head, as he dreams the night away in total peace and comfort.

 

FYI

Oh my gosh--I have the BEST blog friends EVER! I love you guys! What would I do without all of my fellow type1 mom bloggers? Thanks so much for the encouraging words! You brought a tear to my eye. {sniff, sniff}

;-)


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

The Wretched Bug

 **GROSS-OUT ALERT**

A few weeks back, (it's a blur because my last 2 months have been filled with so many sick-kid days, that I can't remember quite when it was) Maddie somehow picked up the "top end" stomach bug, opposed to the "bottom end".  Both equally gross, but having a drama queen for a child, makes the top end just a tad bit more disgusting.

You see, Maddie thinks that she is suffocating when she's throwing up, so she tends to shake her head back and forth as she's vomiting.  (Picture a dog getting out of the water, and before you can get to him to dry him off with the designated "dog towel", he does that doggy-water-shake-off thing and gets water EVERYWHERE.)  She also forgets to put the seat up, which leaves more square inches to contaminate.  But honestly, the seat really isn't a big deal, when you're sanitizing the entire toilet, floor, bathroom counter AND cabinets, in addition to all 4 bathroom walls.   

Now, not only do I try desperately to get her to the bathroom in time, get the seat up, keep out of the line of fire, keep my 3 and 5 year-old boys from watching in awe, but I'm also trying to hold back her loooong hair, as any good mom should.  *For the record, men just don't understand the importance of the holding-back of the hair.  My poor husband, who has been married to and living with me for almost 14 years, will stand OUTSIDE the bathroom door, when I happen to catch a bug, and yell, "You okay in there?"  Um, nooo!!  (To be read sarcastically, while rolling your eyes).

Anyway, this doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of this fiasco.

I don't remember any exact numbers, but the night before, Maddie was a little high.  I corrected her, and she was just as high the next morning.  But, before I could suggest a site change, which is protocol for 2 high blood sugar readings in a row, after correction, that's when it all hit the fan.  Or the kitchen floor, if you want to be realistic.

Did you ever see "Cheaper By The Dozen" with Steve Martin and Bonnie Hunt?  You know the part in the beginning when someone throws up, and it's a domino effect from then on for the next 10 minutes or so?  Well, for some reason, Shawn and Reilly (husband and 5 year-old) were standing right beside her, so as "it" was hitting the kitchen floor, (tile) it was splattering all over the legs of everyone and everything within 6 feet of her.  Fortunately, Brendan (3 year-old) was not nearby, but unfortunately, he didn't know what was going on, so while we were all frozen in fear and astonishment, he ran directly through it, and slid across the floor, smearing it all over the kitchen, laughing all the way.

In our attempt to get her to the bathroom, we were both slipping and sliding around, me barefooted, Shawn in his NEW WHITE tennis shoes, all while she was still vomiting and doing the head-shake thing.  Then we were torn--do we help the vomiting diabetic child, do we clean up the 150 square foot mess in the place where we eat, or do we clean off our legs, feet, hands, and everything else that got hit? 

As Shawn and I locked eyes, I could tell what he was thinking, because I was thinking the same thing.  Which job is worse?  To this day, I don't know the answer to that question, but as I dashed off, with a smirk on my face, to get the Swiffer Wet Jet in the garage (knowing good and well that Shawn had no idea where it was), I was yelling, "YOU BETTER HOLD HER HAIR BACK!!!"

Decisions, Decisions, Decisions.....

I have a bit of a problem on my hands.  If you've read any of my previous entries, you know that I thought long and hard, and decided to pull Maddie out of the wonderful Christian school she was in, in order to home school her......in order to reduce her stress of being in a classroom.........in order to bring her A1C down.  As you may have read, everyone who should have been on my side was against me, but I did it anyway, for the benefit of my child.

It's worked, the A1C is slowly coming down, and Maddie is doing a great job at her work, and liking the curriculum that I chose.  I even went so far as to put her in some cool "home school" classes that a local group provides for kids to experience electives, be away from mom, etc.  (I know, I know, that last part defeats the purpose, but whatever......)

Lately, I've been getting flack about how I'm reducing stress now (and lowering the A1C) but when she does get to a point in her life that she experiences stress, whether it be going back to school, or just life in general, she will not be able to handle it, therefor making her A1C go up again.

Maybe I'm rambling, but I think that if I'm doing what is best for the health of my child RIGHT NOW, then I'm doing the right thing.  I'm realizing that indeed it was the stress of having other kids around, whether it be distractions, or competition with grades, tests, etc.  I've learned a lot about her since we've started homeschooling, and I feel like I'm doing the right thing for her, right now. 

Should I worry about "later" now?  Or should I concentrate on "now" now?  Or should I just do what I think is best for my diabetic child?  I mean, it's not like I'm her mother or anything, or in charge of her entire well being, or the primary care taker of this stupid thing we call diabetes.  Oh, wait--YES I AM.

 

Thanks

Those are HILARIOUS!!!!!  The fridge?  Your hair?  So funny!!!  Isn't it funny how we haven't even ever seen each other (besides our blogs) and we have such silly things in common?  I love it!!  I know it was a crazy blog entry, but thanks for answering.  I guess I have too much time on my hands.  : )

Survey

Ok, type 1 moms. I have a funny question. Where is the strangest place you've found a testing strip? Please answer as a comment. I'd love to hear! One time, upon putting on my pajamas, I found one in my bra. But today, I was changing my youngest's diaper, (just wet, not stinky) and there was a strip stuck to his bottom. Now, in his defense, it had probably gotten there from the night before, sometime between drying off from the bath, and applying the clean diaper. I'm sure there are some other funny stories out there~ I'd love to hear them!!


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