HOW GOD SELECTS THE MOTHER OF A CHILD WITH DIABETES
by Erma Bombeck
Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures and a couple by habit. Did you ever wonder how mothers of children with diabetes are chosen? Somehow I visualize God hovering over earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to make notes in a giant ledger.
"Armstrong, Beth, son. Patron Saint Matthew."
"Forrest, Marjorie, daughter, Patron Saint Cecilia."
"Rutledge, Carrie, twins. Patron Saint Gerard. He's used to profanity."
Finally, He passes a name to an angel and smiles, "Give her a child with diabetes." The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."
"Exactly", smiles God. "Could I give child with diabetes to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel".
"But has she the patience?" asks the angel.
"I don't want her to have too much patience, or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she'll handle it. I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence that is so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I am going to give her has her own world. She has to make it live in her world and that's not going to be easy."
"But, Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."
God smiles. "No matter. I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness."
The angel gasps. "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?"
God nods. "If she cannot separate herself from the child occasionally, she will never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with less than perfect."
"She does not realize it yet, but she is to be envied. I will permit her to see clearly the things I see .... ignorance, cruelty, prejudice ... and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as if she is here by my side."
"And what about her patron saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in mid air. God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."
I hang up the phone and try to realize how in the heck that happened. It takes me about twenty minutes.
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Zeke and I talked about consequences and he kept saying sorry. I felt that the deed justified the punishment and the kid had tortured himself enough, so I was done with it. As I walked out of the room, I guess Zeke disagreed because he walked right over and sat in the timeout spot. Haha! So I did what any loving parent would do... I set the timer for seven minutes. HaHa!
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Saturday, February 23, 2013
Food and Drinks will be Served. It is a shoe-on Party
See? Nice and easy. Let me explain why this needs to happen.
When you are attending a party at someone's home, it is always a question whether or not they will let you keep your shoes on. Personally, I like to have it both ways – off at my house, on at your house! As hypocritical as this might seem, that's how I like it. You probably do too. Haha!
If I know whether it is a shoe-on or shoe-off party can I confidently plan the rest of my outfit. For example, I have some pretty rocking, high-heeled boots. Of course, my life consists of running to volunteer at the school and buying shaving cream at Target, so never is this girl going to wear these fun, festive boots to anywhere but a house party. If I wear these boots, I like to wear them with jeans that go down to the floor. Never does a high-heeled boot look good with floods. I know, why would I buy a pair of boots just to cover them up? Doesn't make sense to me either. It just looks better! Bare feet and long jeans make your butt look dumpy. Am I right? This is why God created high heels. To make our butts look better!
If it is a shoe-off party I will forgo the "long" jeans and just wear the "regular" length jeans. Because long jeans rolled up also make your butt look dumpy! Once the length of the jeans is determined, then I can pick the top. Then, the hair. Then, the jewelry. The shoe-on or shoe-off decision really is the key to all of this.
Then there is the question of socks or no socks. Summertime is easy. Most of the time during the summer, your toes are pedicured. However, in the winter, like the shape of your armpits and legs, toes are anybody's guess. If you have been married for more than five years, it's probably safe to assume that by Christmas only your big toe is sporting polish, left over from your summertime pedicure. As for the armpits? Probably the same deal.
I should also mention here that I can never seem to get the bottom of my socks clean! This is basically because I am afraid of bleach. Who knows where one, left over, little drop will land! I am always fearful that it will happily plant itself on the thigh of my favorite pair of jeans! (You know the ones that fit you perfectly even though they are titled "curvy"? The same ones that they don't make anymore. Probably because women all over the world don't want to be called curvy, especially every time they sit to go to the bathroom! Get a clue fashionistas, would ya! Yep, those.) So, I stay away from bleach. To add insult to injury, I throw white socks into any load. New jeans, red sweatshirt, whatever. I figure they already look rough so why bother. They are usually white enough-ish! But they are never white enough-ish for a shoe-off party.
Don't even get me started on what it's like to be standing in someone's kitchen with a summer sundress, barefoot! Talk about dumpy...
So, for the foreseeable future can we all just agree to include the shoe code in our invitations? Maybe I should call e-vite and pitch this idea...hmmm....
Being a first-time mom to a diabetic child is a little bit of the same. I am making new mom mistakes along the way but learning as I go so I don't repeat the same ones twice. However, as you may have guessed from recent posts, dealing with Type 1 diabetes is truly like chasing a rainbow. You can try and do the exact same thing every single day but you never know if you will land on that perfect number. Somedays, when I feel discouraged, I feel like my day would have had better results getting in my car and looking for the end of a rainbow.
Trying to get to that magic number of 90-120 is difficult enough. but throw sports in the mix and you might as well just throw in the towel! Haha! Dealing with the highs from stress and the lows from the physical aspect of the game is hard to navigate and end up with an in-range number.
It is for this reason, many of you know, at times I struggle with sports.
But after kicking a soccer ball with a boy from the neighborhood, Rocco came running in and said he wanted learn how to play soccer. It frustrated him that the boy in the neighborhood was better than he was. In true Rocco fashion, he never once realized it was because the boy was three years older than he is and had been playing for four years! Rocco just has always thought he can grab any sport and just be great at it! I try not to squelch his confidence. There will be plenty of people, later in life, trying to bring him down... Lol!
So, I signed him up!
This morning was our first practice. He looked so cute in his outfit. He looked like he belonged in it!
When he woke up his blood sugar was 187. Perfect for a morning of running around. He had a yogurt and an Eggo waffle. The total amount of insulin his pump recommended seemed high. I was afraid the insulin would hit him before he started to process the food. This could make his blood sugar tank before we got to the practice. Thankfully his pump allows me to do a “dual wave”, which means he gets some of the insulin immediately with the rest gradually kicking in over an hour. So I did that. I felt safe with that.
As soon as we got to the practice, the coach got the kids running around. I was worried that his blood sugar could be low, but it was too soon to check it, since he was still getting the second part of the insulin and was still processing the breakfast. So I waited. I watched him try so hard to learn the moves and listen to the coach. He did so well.
But I could tell that the super intense coach (who had a thick accent) was stressing him out. In true tough love fashion, I silently cheered him on in his stressful moment. Giving your kids tough love is hard. I like that in sports it is important to persevere and barrel through. I want them to struggle a little in their life when they are with me, so when they grow and are away from me, they will know how to process, cope and move on from hardships. So, as much as it was hard to see him stress, I knew it was better for him in the long run. This is one of the hardest things, I believe, parents need to let their kids experience.
What was harder was not knowing where his blood sugar was.
As he played on, I saw him taking deep breaths. This is a sign of fatigue, which to the mom of a diabetic child can mean low blood sugar. Finally I couldn't take it any longer and I was able to take him out of the practice for a moment to check his blood sugar. When I did, the monitor gave me a little "how do you do".
Total shock! Poor guy. In true Rocco fashion, he drank some water really fast and hurried back to the practice. I gave the amount of insulin the pump recommended. Even though he said he felt fine and didn't want to come out of the game, I wondered how he felt. Most times with him, you just don't know. Unless he is really low, he acts normal. And sometimes he may get a little belligerent when his blood sugar hits between 200-250, but other than that, he acts just fine. I felt sorry for him as I watched him persevere through the vagaries of his disease. Just sucking it up for the good of the team! He is so sweet and tries so hard at everything he does; I just wish I could take this away from him. I know I never can but I always wish...
Thankfully, there was only ten minutes left in the practice and when I got him home to check his ketones (high ketones are a potential complication of high blood sugar), they were negative.
I tried to memorize what I fed him and how nervous he was before the game. I always feel if I memorize every aspect of how a high or low blood sugar day went, I can make adjustments and hope to get his blood sugar number in range (90-120) the next time. However, I know I am only fooling myself because how can you really tell what level of nervousness your child's body is processing? But, I will foolishly keep trying to chase the magic number at the end of the rainbow. As I do everyday. Ugh! Poor Rocco.Who needs to learn how to "barrel through" sports? This kid already knows how to barrel through...