I read through my old blog posts last week, in search of what’s been making me unravel lately. I was a crying mess as I remembered the woman I used to be, and realized that I was mourning my life before diabetes.
The past two years has strained me. I think I was hiding behind running, telling myself that the endless miles I was putting in were keeping me healthy. My a1c has never dropped below 7%, so the running isn’t enough and to put it bluntly…I’m far from healthy. I spend a few hours of every day with pounding headaches and my mood is so unstable that I wonder if my children are scared of me because they never know what to expect. I know that Kyle never knows what’s going to greet him when he walks through the door, and I’m willing to bet there are days that he’d just rather not come home.
It’s so frustrating. My blood sugars are either one of two extremes…very high or very low, and the nice “all is well” in-between is almost non-existent. I tell myself that my fluctuating numbers are expected when trying to juggle a household with two children under the age of 5. Seriously…I barely have time to shower everyday…how can I possibly keep a log of my blood sugars? The excuses aren’t cutting it anymore.
I used this weekend to try to figure some things out. I talked to Kyle, I talked to a very good friend, and I played with some of my usual diabetic routine stuff. Thankfully, the numbers are balancing out since I’ve started putting my infusion set on my lower back area (I think I’ve developed too much scar tissue on my stomach and just ran out of room). My friend gave me some wonderful advice about how to focus on what’s really important, and Kyle…well he reminded me why he does come home every night and why he always will.
Diabetes is a systemic disease. When my numbers are off, everything about me is affected. The problem is that it not only affects me…it affects everyone around me and that is so hard to come to terms with. I recently met a woman who is the adult child of a type-1 diabetic. She grew up with a mother who never controlled her diabetes, who kept her numbers so low that she would have episodes of unconsciousness on a regular basis. She still lives in fear every day that she will receive a call that her mother has hurt herself or someone else during a hypoglycemic episode. She told me that the best thing I can do for my children is to get control of my diabetes.
When you live in Cleveland it’s important to focus on the positive.
For example: When buried in a ridiculous amount of snow that forces you to stay home with two children under the age of 5 for an entire day, put on the warmest clothing you own and take advantage of it.
My children had no problem venturing outdoors.
They didn’t even mind the relentless snowflakes soaking their absolutely adorable faces.
He’s knee deep in new snow, but there’s another good 6 inches beneath that. It’s a frozen solid rock under there and his 4-year-old strength couldn’t penetrate it.
Don’t worry, Liv. I didn’t forget about you. Standing over there in all your pink, snowy cuteness. That cheesy smile is priceless.
My devil attempting to create an angel. Oh, the irony.
Poor kid was stranded.
Alright, Mama. We are cold. This really isn’t fun anymore. Remember, we didn’t choose Cleveland…you and Dad did.
My baby girl in all her resourcefulness. I walked in to her warming herself in front of the space heater after our foray into the winter wonderland. She kept saying, “I’m coldie, coldie.”
I then proceeded to spoil their appetites for lunch by indulging them with hot cocoa chock full of marshmallows. Have you ever played in the snow in your life without the promise of hot cocoa?
I guess I just assumed that Liv would be potty trained over night. She is my savant child. The girl always does everything early and exceptionally well. I expected this to be easy. I mean really, why would she scoff at the chance to wear underpants decorated with her beloved princesses? How could she possibly turn down the opportunity to see Ariel silk-screened across her tiny derriere?
It’s making me crazy. She will go when I can force her to, but she has yet to initiate it. She’s excited at our cymbal-banging-monkey reaction, but she’s in no hurry to elicit it. She’s very indifferent about the whole process and is perfectly content to continue her diaper-wearing ways.
Maybe that’s the kicker.
Until my head-strong Liv decides this is something she wants to do, it just ain’t gonna happen.
I should be happy I have such a strong-willed daughter…right?
I’m finally blogging again and I am attempting to use Facebook. I have no idea how to use the site, but I had friend requests from some people I haven’t seen in years so I’m excited to see what they are up to.
I haven’t been blogging because I’ve lost my mojo. I haven’t run in nearly 3 weeks and my diabetes is pretty much out of control. The kids have been challenging lately and I need to take a course on “being the calm, patient parent.” I really think it’s a winter depression/seasonal affective disorder thing. If my freaking diabetes didn’t already cost us an arm and a leg in medical bills, I would make an appointment with a shrink.
In lieu of some good meds, I’m heading out with some friends tonight for a spa evening at Melting Pot. Normally when we get together our conversations are pieced together between tending to the needs of our relative 2-year olds. It will be refreshing to get to talk about something other than our day-to-day mama business.
We are knee-deep in potty training here. Liv is in “I don’t mind peeing AND pooping in my underwear-mode” and I am already tired of constantly trying to bribe her to go…not to mention the endless laundry. Hopefully, she’ll tire of my nagging and just do it.
I had an emotional moment over the weekend when we took down her crib and put up her toddler bed. I am absolutely, positively certain that I do not want any more children, but for the first time in 5 years, our home will be without a crib. For some reason that struck a chord with me and made me very sad. The on-the-horizon moment when our home will be without diapers for the first time in 5 years will effectively wipe away all aforementioned sadness.
I think Kade is suffering from some seasonal funk too. He’s been especially grumpy and moody, which is pretty bad when your usual mood is one of general grumpiness. I think he would benefit from an indoor waterpark vacation (pretty easy to take care of when you are originally from Sandusky “indoor waterpark capital of the northeast”.
Okay, I’m wrapping this up because people are commenting on my “wall” and I have no idea how to respond to them. Time to figure this Facebook thing out…
Remember how I said yesterday that diabetes has become a part of everyday life and I try not to let it get to me? Well, that was yesterday. Today, it got to me.
I was parent helper at Kade’s preschool this morning and as the children were finishing snack, I noticed that I was feeling pleasantly drunk. Given that it was 11:00 in the morning and I was surrounded by 4 and 5 year olds, I figured that the fuzzy, tingly happiness was less due to grandpa’s cough medicine and more due to my plummeting blood sugar. I slipped away to check and was startled at the 37 staring back at me. I wasn’t just low, I was approaching the “any lower and she’s going to pass out and horrify a room full of children” low. My shaking hands managed to pour a cup of juice and I plopped on the floor to treat and regain composure. Kade’s teacher was very concerned, but I didn’t want to draw attention to the situation and myself so I told her that I’d be fine in a few minutes (which thankfully I was). I then decided to down half a pop-tart (yeah, I brought pop-tarts as a snack…but they were the organic kind from Costco so don’t give me any grief) just to make certain that I would stay in the safe blood sugar range. As I’m standing by the sink, shoving the food into my mouth so I can get back to helping the class, I look over and see moms from the class across the hall staring at me as they wait to pick up their children. I must have looked so sad to them, hovering over the sink, devouring my food like some ravenous beast. I wanted to run out in the hall and tell them that I have diabetes, that normally I have to avoid sugary snacks, but on this occasion I needed the sugar to survive, that I was precariously close to unconsciousness just a few moments before and that I was desperate to feed my body’s demands with the only food I could find…pop-tarts. They had witnessed my desperation and I knew that trying to explain what they saw would only make me look more desperate, so I popped the last of the pop-tart in my mouth and smiled out the window.
I stopped wearing my sensors so my belly could take a break from the scar tissue and my psyche could take a break from the pain of inserting that ridiculously large needle. I guess it’s time to suck it up, stick it in, and take the necessary measures to avoid passing out in public and looking like some starving freak in front of the other preschool moms. Rumor has it that Medtronic is working on a single insertion set that will have the cannula and sensor in one unit. Now that’s something I’d like for Christmas…
I haven’t posted anything diabetes related in awhile. It’s not because things have been in perfect control…far from it. Being diabetic has slowly become just a part of who I am. Waking up to a 300 blood sugar or dropping to 45 after lunch, used to send me reeling into a panic that always left me feeling frustrated, angry and exhausted. Now I simply bolus or treat and move on with my day. I’ve learned how to live with diabetes. Sure, a 280-blood-sugar-induced-migraine will still stop me in my tracks, cause me to yell at the kids, and make me curse the hand I’ve been dealt, but now I know that once the insulin starts working, the sugars come down, and the headache subsides, I will be fine. I make a conscious effort to not let it piss me off…thereby ruining the entire day or night or moment. As much as I wish I could change it, I can’t.
I do start to feel sorry for myself when I think about all of the things I can’t do because I’m diabetic. Like dating a vampire for example, how do you think he’d handle the blood-letting that goes on every time I check my sugar? I guess being married prohibits me from dating anyone at all, which would include vampires, so it’s really a moot point (that and the small fact that they don’t really exist).
My friends are pressuring me to join them in the world of social networking, but my blog and the preschool website are difficult enough to keep updated that I’m not sure I can take on another task. I have a profile, but I have never elaborated on it, or sought out friends, or accepted friends, or had any desire whatsoever to use it. It’s just there and I leave it alone. After realizing that the entire city of Cleveland knows each other by 3 degrees of separation or less, I am intrigued enough to think about actually using it. We’ll see…
I spent $30 at the Dollar Store today, which translates into 3 bags full of crap that I really don’t need, but because they were only a dollar I just couldn’t pass them up. I’m such a sucker. In all honesty, I did score some good deals on wrapping paper and gift tags, but the number of stamps I’ve bought for Liv’s stocking is getting out of hand (the girl loves to stamp, but does she really love it this much).
I should be dusting right now, but I’m starting to feel stressed so I need to pause and let it pass. Kyle’s parents are coming into town tomorrow so we can go to our friend’s holiday party (I am in a desperate search for something black and white to wear in keeping with the theme of the party). The toilet needs scrubbing, the floors need sweeping, the itty-bitty fingerprints need removing, but I can’t seem to gain the momentum to do any of it.
I hit Zagara’s up for their can’t be beat “5 meats for $19.99″ deal and managed to slip 2 bottles of red wine into the cart, which is making the tasks seem more doable and the kid’s bed time seem even sweeter (it’s also making my mouth water at the thought of our fried egg and bacon topped burger dinner).
Oh hell…it IS the holidays. A little dust never hurt anyone…right?
I know…it’s been awhile. You’d think I would have used this time to get ready for the upcoming holidays. I did manage to get the house decorated and fill the basement with gifts for the kids, but I’ve fallen prey to a false sense of completion that is going to bite me in the ass in 15 days. I haven’t bought a single non-Santa gift or started a single craft or baked a single goodie or dressed the kids, loaded them up, pleaded, bribed, begged and cried in order to get a holiday photo taken before the holidays have come and gone. I’m not stressing though. I’ve decided that if it gets done I’ll be happy, and if it doesn’t, we’ll manage anyway. In these times of anxiety and economic uncertainty, the cliche of “just being together” couldn’t ring more true. I don’t need anything, my family doesn’t need anything, and my kids most certainly don’t need any more material goods. Getting together, eating yummy food, toasting having made it another year, being reminded that family and friends transcend the hustle and bustle, gift-wrapping, credit-card-swiping commercialism…that is what the holiday season is all about. I look at my happy, healthy children, my cozy, warm home, my beautiful tree, nativity scene and menorah, and I’m at peace. (No…I did not drink a glass of scotch wine before writing this post. I’m seriously not going to stress out this year. Unlike me, I know…but I really mean it.)
The Twilight movie was kind of disappointing (okay, it was very disappointing). I kept forgetting that this book was meant for teens, which meant the movie would be too. Don’t get me wrong, every time Edward graced the screen, my heart skipped a beat. Reading the books gave me the freedom to picture him as someone older, less illegal, but seeing him portrayed onscreen sent the “this is a 17-year-old boy and you are a 29-year-old mother of two” message home. That and realizing I was one of the oldest people in the theater who wasn’t accompanying her teenage daughter were enough to make me hang my head in shame.
The intended audience of hormonally-charged teenagers probably loved it, and I’ll admit that the Edward/Bella scenes pulled me in, but it was a film that non-Twilight readers would have a difficult time following. It was too hard to get past the flour-dusted representation of Carlisle and the 20-something girl in my aisle wearing a “Team Edward” t-shirt to really take any of it seriously.
I’ve moved on to more age-appropriate fantasies. Vampire Bill (who is a respectable 30) has caused me to order HBO and put even more books on hold at the library. The best part is that Kyle actually likes the series and will watch TrueBlood onDemand with me (I refuse to believe that it’s because of all the naked boobs).
I’m inserting a chessy, you-tube video montage now…sorry. I just cannot get enough of this show.
