Teach Sunday school, rehearsal, night off, yoga, back to school night, pick up Nora from dance, rehearsal, teach Sunday school. And so it goes. I count off the activities rather than the days of the week. Look for trends in Daniel's blood sugars, count minutes of exercise. No wonder the days stream by, leaving a blurry impression. It's like staring at one of those flip books. Can you see the picture jigging through the pages? It's a mom juggling meals, needles, a cell phone and a calendar.
Not much time to write this week, yet it has been a week full of coincidences and waddaya knows. Cosmic winds are blowing and I'm trying to read patterns in the leaves that scatter at my feet.
I'll let you know if I come up with anything.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007
Plugged In
It's Friday afternoon and we're all plugged in. I'm in blog mode, Dominic & Nora are watching the Simpsons, and Daniel is playing his hour's worth of video games. Apples are boiling their way into sauce on the stove (trying it with Honeycrisp apples; we'll see how it goes because my favorite Staymens are not available yet). The pork loin is marinating. And all the humans in the house are quiet.
A nice end to the week. Daniel had some serious lows in the past couple of days. Of course, one day he didn't finish lunch because he "had no time." I told him that as a diabetic student, there is always time for lunch. He can eat in the nurse's office or in his class. That's what the 504 plan is for! I hope we've got that straightened out. I know it is hard to be the only kid eating in the class room, but I don't want him to be the only kid passing out on the bus on the way home!
I ran to Target on the way to work this morning and bought a broiler pan. I've been without one for years, just using a cookie rack stuck inside a cookie sheet. But I thought it would be nice to have an actual broiler pan. I was thinking of Mr. Piggy marinating in the fridge. I'm also lacking a grill, so a quick broil is the next best thing. And this time I was smart -- I didn't unwrap the thing right away. I put it in my oven just to test... and NO -- it doesn't fit. The door doesn't close. It IS nice to have double wall ovens, but they are the teensiest ovens in the world! AGH!!
The broiler pan will be returned. I'll go back to the cookie sheet method. If it ain't broke...
I'm just glad it is Friday.
A nice end to the week. Daniel had some serious lows in the past couple of days. Of course, one day he didn't finish lunch because he "had no time." I told him that as a diabetic student, there is always time for lunch. He can eat in the nurse's office or in his class. That's what the 504 plan is for! I hope we've got that straightened out. I know it is hard to be the only kid eating in the class room, but I don't want him to be the only kid passing out on the bus on the way home!
I ran to Target on the way to work this morning and bought a broiler pan. I've been without one for years, just using a cookie rack stuck inside a cookie sheet. But I thought it would be nice to have an actual broiler pan. I was thinking of Mr. Piggy marinating in the fridge. I'm also lacking a grill, so a quick broil is the next best thing. And this time I was smart -- I didn't unwrap the thing right away. I put it in my oven just to test... and NO -- it doesn't fit. The door doesn't close. It IS nice to have double wall ovens, but they are the teensiest ovens in the world! AGH!!
The broiler pan will be returned. I'll go back to the cookie sheet method. If it ain't broke...
I'm just glad it is Friday.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Routine
Sometimes it is hard to come to the computer to write because I don't have anything to say that is IMPORTANT. After all, I'm committing words to paper (screen) for all time and for many eyes, so shouldn't it be IMPORTANT?
But the last few days have been routine. And ROUTINE is not so bad. We had a birthday in the house, yes, and that was and was not out of the ordinary. A full house, a large family -- birthdays are comfortable & familiar, if not routine. I think there's something good to be said for the morning alarm, the balletic timing of school-morning breakfasts, the snippets of NPR on the way to work. Something wonderful and rejuvenating about autumn with its class schedules and coffee breaks.
Maybe ROUTINE has been good because Daniel's sugars have been mostly in range this week (except for the "save-all-my-carbs-for-birthday-ice cream" mistake). ROUTINE has Dominic learning new teachers, new subjects, new routines in grade 1 that exhaust him in ways that a day at the pool can't. ROUTINE even makes middle school bearable for Nora (but there are always jerks in middle school so I'm keeping my fingers crossed).
The routine turning of the year seems to have clicked over one notch away from summer and towards fall, and even the sky was celebrating the sudden change in the air with a riotous, colorful party for sunset. I went outside to pick a few late-summer peppers and tomatoes, and stopped to breathe it all in; the quiet moment in the neighborhood, the changing angles of light. Then the geese were overhead, announcing their southward flight path, calling for attention.
Mary Oliver is probably my favorite poet, she has a way of turning the ordinary into the magical. I have been thinking tonight about her poem, Wild Geese. It goes:
"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things."
That's from her book Dream Work. And tonight, in a routine moment, I fell into a brief state of grace & beauty. Thanks in great part to Mary Oliver, to the raw poetry in the sound of geese, and to a much needed change of season.
But the last few days have been routine. And ROUTINE is not so bad. We had a birthday in the house, yes, and that was and was not out of the ordinary. A full house, a large family -- birthdays are comfortable & familiar, if not routine. I think there's something good to be said for the morning alarm, the balletic timing of school-morning breakfasts, the snippets of NPR on the way to work. Something wonderful and rejuvenating about autumn with its class schedules and coffee breaks.
Maybe ROUTINE has been good because Daniel's sugars have been mostly in range this week (except for the "save-all-my-carbs-for-birthday-ice cream" mistake). ROUTINE has Dominic learning new teachers, new subjects, new routines in grade 1 that exhaust him in ways that a day at the pool can't. ROUTINE even makes middle school bearable for Nora (but there are always jerks in middle school so I'm keeping my fingers crossed).
The routine turning of the year seems to have clicked over one notch away from summer and towards fall, and even the sky was celebrating the sudden change in the air with a riotous, colorful party for sunset. I went outside to pick a few late-summer peppers and tomatoes, and stopped to breathe it all in; the quiet moment in the neighborhood, the changing angles of light. Then the geese were overhead, announcing their southward flight path, calling for attention.
Mary Oliver is probably my favorite poet, she has a way of turning the ordinary into the magical. I have been thinking tonight about her poem, Wild Geese. It goes:
"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things."
That's from her book Dream Work. And tonight, in a routine moment, I fell into a brief state of grace & beauty. Thanks in great part to Mary Oliver, to the raw poetry in the sound of geese, and to a much needed change of season.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Festival, Milady?
We went to the Renaissance Festival yesterday. Oh, but t'was a glorious hot day for a faire. And what a crowd there was to be seen! I felt for the poor little children whose parents dressed them up in fancy faire clothes -- long velvet dresses and pretty head-dresses -- for the heat caused everything to droop and drag. I'm sure the soaked-in sweat added pounds to those garments. Still, the sight of a 2-year old child in full regalia sitting on a stump and chomping on a turkey leg is quite charming.
And yes, Daniel was able to eat at the faire; meat on a stick is quite free from gluten. The potatoes were fine, and there was plenty of diet soda around. He did go low, probably from walking around in the heat, but was able to care for it and enjoy the surroundings. He got a double-sided pendant, custom forged in brass.
Nora came home with a dragon on her shoulder and Dominic got a nice, wooden sword. Nora also had her fortune told -- a future fraught with tension and change. That was an easy reading -- tension and change is the very definition of middle school! In the second reading (more about her grown-up future) there was much talk of romance. I wasn't ready for that.
Although we always, ALWAYS have to take diabetes & celiac into consideration, it still felt like a day where we were able to focus on the event, not the disease. We always walk around prepared for disaster, so it is hard to let go of that, to not see everything through the diabetes/celiac lens. But we got away with it. For a little while.
See you on the morrow.
And yes, Daniel was able to eat at the faire; meat on a stick is quite free from gluten. The potatoes were fine, and there was plenty of diet soda around. He did go low, probably from walking around in the heat, but was able to care for it and enjoy the surroundings. He got a double-sided pendant, custom forged in brass.
Nora came home with a dragon on her shoulder and Dominic got a nice, wooden sword. Nora also had her fortune told -- a future fraught with tension and change. That was an easy reading -- tension and change is the very definition of middle school! In the second reading (more about her grown-up future) there was much talk of romance. I wasn't ready for that.
Although we always, ALWAYS have to take diabetes & celiac into consideration, it still felt like a day where we were able to focus on the event, not the disease. We always walk around prepared for disaster, so it is hard to let go of that, to not see everything through the diabetes/celiac lens. But we got away with it. For a little while.
See you on the morrow.
Friday, September 7, 2007
My favorite thing of the day
So Dominic comes home from school (first grade) and I go through his backpack & find his work for the day. There's a sheet of paper that has a picture of a slide and a picture of a swing set. Dominic had to glue little square pictures of boys and girls onto the slide and the swings. Then he does the math on the next page.
__12__ kids are on the slide (he wrote in the number he pasted on)
__8__ kids are on the swing set (again, he wrote the number)
How many kids are on the playground all together?
(he wrote 20)
How do you know?
He wrote: "I cowented it."
As I was adding up the carbs for dinner tonight I was thinking, "Hmmm. I'm cowenting."
Moo!
__12__ kids are on the slide (he wrote in the number he pasted on)
__8__ kids are on the swing set (again, he wrote the number)
How many kids are on the playground all together?
(he wrote 20)
How do you know?
He wrote: "I cowented it."
As I was adding up the carbs for dinner tonight I was thinking, "Hmmm. I'm cowenting."
Moo!
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Brain Freezes & Thaws
Things I didn't do:
Mail the phone bill.
Call my mom.
Read the "Castle" book from Dominic's trip to the school library.
Talk to my husband about his interview.
Finish everything on my desk at work.
Clean 1 room today.
Water my garden.
Things I remembered:
Daniel's earlier shot on a school day.
How many carbs Daniel had for dinner (so he wouldn't miss the last 20).
What time Nora had her medicine and what her temperature was.
Daniel's class schedule (about a minute before the bus came).
Asking Dominic what happened at school & the names of his new friends.
To call Kathryn to see if she is okay.
To look at a few headlines to know what happened in the world.
To write, if just for a few minutes.
Mail the phone bill.
Call my mom.
Read the "Castle" book from Dominic's trip to the school library.
Talk to my husband about his interview.
Finish everything on my desk at work.
Clean 1 room today.
Water my garden.
Things I remembered:
Daniel's earlier shot on a school day.
How many carbs Daniel had for dinner (so he wouldn't miss the last 20).
What time Nora had her medicine and what her temperature was.
Daniel's class schedule (about a minute before the bus came).
Asking Dominic what happened at school & the names of his new friends.
To call Kathryn to see if she is okay.
To look at a few headlines to know what happened in the world.
To write, if just for a few minutes.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
So now it is September
I just had to get out of the house & do some shopping for my daughter whose sneakers fell apart. She also got a coupon from Limited Too for her birthday, so we spent 45 minutes in there agonizing over clothes, stuffed animals, toys & candy.
Then on the way to the shoe store my husband calls to say that they totally lost track of time at home and are just having lunch now (an hour late). This is the day after the wicked low.
And I think to myself, should I ever leave the house? I didn't call at 1 because Matt was home. But he was working and Daniel had a friend over and time just slipped away.
And it wasn't so bad. Daniel was at 73. We do the best we can do.
But later Daniel was sad. Here we are, almost 4 months after dx, and it is the first time I've seen him hang his head since his days at the hospital. His shoulders were hunched over and I could see the weight of diabetes & celiac diagnoses like a physical presence on his spine. Usually he smiles, shrugs, and says, "I'm going to do what I have to do!" Takes it in stride. But last night he was down.
We talked it out, and I reminded him that there is a therapist at Children's Hospital that works with diabetes patients if he feels that talking to me or to his dad or friends isn't enough.
Which he didn't want to do, but he knows it is there if he changes his mind. And by the time he went to bed, he was smiling again. But maybe just for my benefit.
I fell into a deep funk last night. I haven't cried like that for a while about the unfairness of it all, how random and strange it is that this has taken over my son's life, how it has changed our family.
But today I read a blog post by Brett Griswold entitled "Why me? WHY NOT ME?" which really lifted me up. He has an amazing attitude & perspective on life with diabetes.
I'm so thankful for blogs, this incredible medium, the ability for us to find others who can encourage us with their stories. I carry Daniel's diabetes in my heart every day; his schedule of shots & meals sets an order to the family's day. But there is life to be lived above and beyond this condition. I just need to be reminded every once in a while.
Good news though -- we will be switching to basal/bolus in October. Something new to learn.
Then on the way to the shoe store my husband calls to say that they totally lost track of time at home and are just having lunch now (an hour late). This is the day after the wicked low.
And I think to myself, should I ever leave the house? I didn't call at 1 because Matt was home. But he was working and Daniel had a friend over and time just slipped away.
And it wasn't so bad. Daniel was at 73. We do the best we can do.
But later Daniel was sad. Here we are, almost 4 months after dx, and it is the first time I've seen him hang his head since his days at the hospital. His shoulders were hunched over and I could see the weight of diabetes & celiac diagnoses like a physical presence on his spine. Usually he smiles, shrugs, and says, "I'm going to do what I have to do!" Takes it in stride. But last night he was down.
We talked it out, and I reminded him that there is a therapist at Children's Hospital that works with diabetes patients if he feels that talking to me or to his dad or friends isn't enough.
Which he didn't want to do, but he knows it is there if he changes his mind. And by the time he went to bed, he was smiling again. But maybe just for my benefit.
I fell into a deep funk last night. I haven't cried like that for a while about the unfairness of it all, how random and strange it is that this has taken over my son's life, how it has changed our family.
But today I read a blog post by Brett Griswold entitled "Why me? WHY NOT ME?" which really lifted me up. He has an amazing attitude & perspective on life with diabetes.
I'm so thankful for blogs, this incredible medium, the ability for us to find others who can encourage us with their stories. I carry Daniel's diabetes in my heart every day; his schedule of shots & meals sets an order to the family's day. But there is life to be lived above and beyond this condition. I just need to be reminded every once in a while.
Good news though -- we will be switching to basal/bolus in October. Something new to learn.
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