Summertime

We have had a really busy last couple of weeks!

We have a local group of type 1 families that get together now and then.  Sometimes with kids, sometimes just moms (and occasionally dads).  It stemmed from Diabetes Outdoors and sort of took off from there.  We have a facebook group where we can all ask questions, share thoughts, or just be constant support.  Last year, a handful of us went to diabetes camp together.  This year, I think we had 14 families come along!  It’s so awesome to get to build on friendships but even better that we’re also building relationships and friendships for our kids in their own community.  They’re all different ages and genders, but they all get to know each other, have get-togethers and know that their parents are all friends.

This is just the families from our local area at camp! We made up about 40% of the population that weekend!

The following weekend, Bret Michaels was playing at our county fair and we decided to take a bunch of the kids.  Parents worked together to get a hold of his manager and they decided to allow a quick meet and greet before he played.  As we lined up for a picture he said if anyone needed anything, they’ve got lots of supplies.  I responded that the same went the other way, if he needed anything, we’d all have plenty of supplies with us and he said, that’s right, we’ll take care of each other.  Pretty cool.  He signed autographs for a few kids and generally seemed like a good guy.

Kids waiting for Bret Michaels

Camden meeting Bret Michaels

Then, last night we went to a Dodger game.  I’d won tickets in a drawing from JDRF just a few days before and figured it would be great training for Miss Molly!  As we walked into the stadium we were shocked to see a guide dog group was in the same section as us with several of their puppies-in-training!  I talked to a couple of the girls and found out that none of them had been there with the dogs before either.  We were all wondering how these big dogs would fit, but it worked!  We brought a “place” (rug) for Molly to lay on under our seats and she did great.  We had to clear out piles of  peanut shells that were tempting her (I’m pretty sure she found a few strays to snack on) but otherwise she fit just fine.  Although she was in super tight quarters, she was on excellent behavior and twice scooted herself around to reach and grab her bringsel (C was running pretty high for some unknown reason).  Without any commotion or having to get up she grabbed it, we responded by testing C and then gave her a treat and lots of petting.  She was able to keep her excitement totally under control and stay right where she was.  I’ve often wondered how alerts will work in certain situations and this eased all concerns I’ve had.  I did take her up to the deck above our seats to get a drink of water and walk her around a bit and I think most people were surprised to see a big dog walking up the stairs.  She was such a good girl, I don’t think most people had realized she was there!

Miss Molly checking out the game

Advertisements

Mother Lover

Tonight during dinner my kids serenaded me with a freestyle rap called Mother Lover.

It was about how much they love me.

 

I wish I’d had a video camera so I could watch it when they hate me.

You Are Getttttting Sleeeeeepy

Last night we couldn’t shake the lows, or maybe the “too-low-for-bed”s.  A 65 at bedtime got 24 carbs of ice cream.  3o minutes later a 59 got a juice box.  20 min later he was 96.  Cool, removed pump and he took a shower.  Came out 40 minutes later bg 87.  I lowered his pump to -50% and he had some popcorn.  Normally I wouldn’t dream of keeping that 50% for more than 2 hours TOPS, but I can’t wake up to alarms anymore.  It’s like my brain is so used to hearing them that it just doesn’t care anymore.  Sometimes I’ll hit snooze for 2 1/2 HOURS before I realize I was supposed to get up!!!  After that much alarming, I feel like I didn’t get a wink of sleep.  Anyways, I left it at -50% for four hours. JUST IN CASE.  When I finally did get up to check he was 386.  Not cool.

Two weekends ago the plan was to do night basal testing.  I set alarms for every 90 minutes for the entire night.  I woke up in the morning and realized I didn’t get up ONCE!  What the heck?!?

 

So.  The plan?  My mom’s on the hunt for a hypnotherapist for me.  She’s going to find one that can hypnotize me to wake up when I hear the alarm.  Not only that, wake up feeling refreshed.  I’m pretty excited.  She got hypnotized when I was a baby to quit smoking.  They had her picture picking up one of those gross spit pots (like in an old saloon) and drinking from it every time she thought of smoking and it worked!

 

What if this helps?!  It could be the greatest thing for a D’rent ever!  Wake up easily? Feeling refreshed?  Sounds freaking great.  I’ll be sure to update when she finds my miracle-worker.

 

Not Welcome Here

So C’s basketball team had their end-of-season party tonight.  At a local pizza place.  Regular pizza.

We considered not going, but I decided to take him anyways.  I called ahead and asked if they offered gluten-free pizza and was told no.  I told them my son’s team was coming in and he had celiac disease, would it be ok to bring outside pizza that was gluten-free for him.  The answer was and enthusiastic “Absolutely.”

We stopped at our local RedBrick (we LOOOOOVVVVEE RedBrick’s GF pizza!!), grabbed a pizza and headed to the party.  We sat down and I told the waitress that we had outside pizza, explained why and that I’d called earlier to make sure it was ok.  She was great, “Of course.”

One and a half HOURS later, she comes back and says, “Sorry, but she’s really upset that you brought in pizza from somewhere else.  She said it’s too late this time but you can’t bring it in again.  So next time-” I cut her off there and said we wouldn’t be coming back again.  I was pissed.  How embarrassing to call us out in front of everyone we came with and make a kid feel even more different when it’s already over.  There’s not a lot we can do 90 minutes after the fact.  My mom asked if I wanted to explain to ‘her’ (who I assumed was the owner complaining) and I didn’t.  I’d already spoken to two other people there and didn’t want to deal.  With that another mom mentions that her son has celiac disease and she’d brought in a gluten-free crust from home and they put the toppings on and cooked it for her.  I was like, Dude, why didn’t they give me that option when I called?!?!  She told me she goes there all the time (most sports in our town have their parties there.  If you show up in uniform you get free pizza).  So clearly, if she’s there as much as she says she is, they should know the routine, right?!

As we leave and are paying the woman/owner comes up and says (YELLING), “What were you thinking bringing another restaurant’s pizza into my restaurant?”  I again explained celiac disease and that my son couldn’t eat their food.  I told her that I’d called ahead and that I checked with our waitress when we arrived. 

She told me that the other mother does it right having them make the food.  I told her it would’ve been nice for her employees to have suggested that option being that she’s a regular customer and I was calling asking what my son’s options were.  Her reply was that she’d be sure to put a sign on the front door so it doesn’t happen next time.  None of this sounded nice.  She was so beyond pissed and totally yelling at me in front of like 50 other customers.  I told her not to bother with the sign for me because we wouldn’t be back.  She goes, “Real nice, after I just fed your kid for free!”  MY response? “HA!!  YOU didn’t feed my kid, I had to bring his pizza from somewhere else!  By the way, thanks for making us feel so welcome in your fine establishment!”

Now my kids are wondering what the hell is going on.  I was so pissed.  We bought a pizza, a salad, drinks, the works for the rest of our family.  It wasn’t like we were mooching off this bitch!  (We also threw out our leftovers we were going to bring home at that point)  So I’m trying to explain to my kids that some people are assholes plain and simple.  Some people shouldn’t face their customers if they have no customer service skills.  If they’d told me up front about the option of bringing my own crust and having them safely make my son a pizza, we would’ve been customers for life.  I would’ve been thrilled knowing that three blocks from my house was a restaurant trying to be accommodating.

She should’ve reprimanded her employees for giving me the wrong information instead of yelling at me in front of an entire restaurant full of people.  Fuck her, she’s lucky I didn’t cram our leftover pizza in her face like the Three Stooges with a creme pie.  Although I was tempted, hence it hitting the trash can before I got the chance…  UGHHHH!

Did I mention…

I LOVE REDBRICK PIZZA!!!!!

The Look

My dad had a look when I was growing up.  I remember if you pissed him off real good his eyes used to look like he was going to turn into a werewolf and kill you.  It used to scare the shit out of me.  I was sure, growing up, that he might kill me one day.  When I got older I realized that my uncle (his brother) can do the same scary look with his eyes.  I’ve also seen it in my sister.  I think I might have it, too.  Sometimes I can look at my kids and don’t have to repremand them.

C doesn’t normally hide his diabetes.  He keeps it right out in the open and doesn’t seem bothered by anyone noticing.  However, he recently started playing on a basketball team and does not want to test or have his pump show in front of them.  I haven’t really addressed it, but have reminded him a few times that nobody will think twice about it.  In the meantime, we test before going in, remove the pump for the game (not to hide it but to prevent his going low. Normally along with -50% and hour before and after playing), and retest after the game.

Last night he was high before the game and I decided to correct even though he was about to play.  Normally I don’t since playing will drop him so much, but he’s been having some stubborn highs this last week.  Halfway through the game, I was feeling really nervous about where his number was at and brought his meter over to him on the bench.  There was another kid sitting next to him.  Coach (who is a 6th grade teacher and has had T1 students and is quite understanding) says, “Oh great, are you going to check him?”  I told him I was and his response was, “Ok, let’s take him over there to the bathrooms to do it.”  I looked at him and didn’t know what to say.  However, it was one of those moments where I think my eyes did the werewolf -I’m going to kill you- looks because he immediately changed his mind and said, “I mean, can he do it right here?”

“C tests wherever he happens to be.” was my response.  I went back to my seat and laughed at the idea that I just gave someone the look.  I felt a bit empowered by my family’s genetic gift.

BG was 247

Night Lows

C has not woken up from a low yet.  It’s been about a year and a half and it worries me.  I have checked him in his sleep in the 50s, the 40s a handful of times and once at 32.  Just sleeping peacefully as though there are no problems.  Everyone tells me he’ll wake himself when he’s low, but really… HOW low??

A few nights ago I checked him at 3am and his number was 82.  He hadn’t had a lot of exercise and there was no insulin on board.  I woke him but he didn’t want juice and asked that I just do it with his pump.  I dropped it to -50% basal for 2 hours.  I normally would’ve done an hour tops, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to wake up again.

In the morning I went in to check him and saw the juice box on his nightstand had the straw in it.  The wrapper was right next to him.  Panic set in and I tested him…302.  Once he woke up I asked him about it, he says, “Oh ya, I felt low after you left so I drank the juice.”  I told him he’s “GOT to wake me up in that situation…what if he kept dropping lower?? We could have a serious problem.”

His answer?  “I doubt that was going to happen.  I felt pretty hungry so I went to the kitchen and ate the rest of the taco shells.”

hahhaha!  I am sooooo glad he got up and took care of things.  He wasn’t technically ‘asleep’ but 3am sleepiness is pretty close to asleep.  I feel like he has a little more security going on now.

Couch Fort

E just build a couch fort and made an announcement…

“This is where I live now.  Forever.”

Grandma: “Forever?”

“Well, forever until I’m 10.”

pauuuuuuse.

“I mean 8.  I’m staying in here and never coming out until I’m 8.”

pauuuuuuse.

“Except for on Christmas.”

“I live here now until I’m 8.  I’m not even coming out on Thanksgiving.”

pauuuuuuse.

“Unless there’s turkey.  I’ll come out on Thanksgiving only if there’s turkey.”

pauuuuuuse.

“And maybe on Halloween.  And on Christmas.”