Take a second look

The blond boy that you treat as you do…The one you don’t give a second thought.He was diagnosed when he was twoYou can’t imagine his life’s lot.His smile is contagiousHis laughter full of the sunHe hops and skips and runs and jumpsYet his world has come undone.He pokes his fingers 8 times a dayBrown speckles mark each spot.A needle inserted into his fleshYou would think he’d complain a lot.But when he does this daunting taskHis eyes twinkle with delight.He knows it’s a grown up thing to doHe only wants to do what’s right.A two inch needle we insert Into his little hip.We do this a few times a weekTo attach his insulin drip.Most children at that...

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Worry Feet

My feet hurt.When I wake up in the morning I can barely walk. My feet scream as soon as they hit the floor. I’m pretty sure it is all the worry I keep there. It seems this time of year my worry increases tenfold, and honestly, where do you think I should keep all this worry? In my swelly brain? NO WAY! I stuff it down…way way down to my toes. I’m like a trash compacter when it comes to worry. My body fills with the worry garbage and I push the button and there you go! Feet stuffed with compacted worry! Stuffed so deeply that my feet ache from carrying around the worry garbage that no doubt is the weight of cement blocks.Or it could...

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It’s the most flip-outiest time, of the year!

Hello friends. Welcome to Meri’s edition of, “August, should we just scrap it all together?”I think July should be 62 days. Yes? Agreed? Because August always stinks. Seriously, look back at your blog…look back at your calendar…look back at your journal…suckity suck suck! Case and point, my post last year: Tsunami and EVERY OTHER AUGUST POST LAST YEAR! It’s emotional collapse time people. Batten down the hatches!It’s back to school. It’s back to reality. It’s back to WORK! NO MORE RESTING YOUR BODY OR YOUR BRAIN! Let’s get moving! Blah! Blah! Blah!It’s emotional…it’s hair raising…it’s finding a new routine…it’s educating teachers and nurses…it’s sports season…it’s a big FAT reminder that our kids have special needs, and our hearts break for them as they have to find their own “normal” in their...

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Just so you know: I know I talk about my brain A LOT.

I went to bed last night with visions of last year’s Charlie Brown first day of school in my head. I was as ready as I’d ever be and yet I knew even with the best of intentions…IT can hit the fan. Regardless, when I did sleep, I slept HARD. I was exhausted last night and sporting a nice big fat head cold to boot.The day went smooth as silk. Thankfully, I was able to meet with the boys teachers last night to go over emergency protocol and their daily schedule. L’s 1st grade teacher has had J and B, so we mostly just chatted. Her biggest concern was L communicating his lows…and since L is a pro at that now, all her fears were put to rest. B got...

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Conversation: The act of conversing BOTH ways.

(We’re getting the internet in our NEW HOME :) tomorrow. I’m looking forward to diving back into the blogging world! But I have one minute and I hijacked my husband’s work air card...I need to get this out of my brain before I fall asleep tonight.)Today I met a new friend. Her name is Molly*. She has a boy on L’s soccer team. She talked my ear off for 30 minutes straight about her family, her extended family, her school situation, her work situation, her back to school shopping and upcoming birthdays and the like.I probably gave her an understanding nod like 100 times.I was there for her.I let her talk until she ran out of breath...I’m pretty sure her lips were blue from constantly talking. Honestly, there was no oxygen inhaled during the entire length of the conversation.But when I tried...

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IT exists!

Hands down hardest thing a mom has to deal with? Letting go.And a T1 mom? Forget about it! Letting go is like, mythological or something…what mother can let go and let their child handle D on their own?I mean really! ((SNORT))What kind of mother can do this? A stupid one? A crazy one?Our kids need to be monitored by us ALL THE TIME!NO LETTING GO! NO LETTING GO! NO LETTING GO! (Seriously, I think I used to chant this in my sleep…)So how does a mother, who believes “letting go” is akin to throwing your child in a volcano…let her 12 year old diabetic son go to scout camp…alone…for an entire week?Beats me…But I did.I let him go.And. He. Lives.The LOGICAL side of me knew he could do it.-He has had diabetes for 12 years, and he is 12 years and 8 months old.-He has had several dry runs. Scout camp...

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One of those moments...

There are moments in everyone’s lives that define them. Moments that move us to a sacred place…a place away from the world’s manipulations of what is supposed to be important.I think my children’s diagnoses were three of those moments.But since those three fateful days when my worlds as I knew them were knocked off their axis, there have been an armful of moments that just as suddenly, jarred me to my very core. Like aftershocks in the earthquake of diagnoses. In these instances my true priorities were made clear. Most of these moments lasted just seconds, but their grasping influences left imprints that forever changed the way I look at my life.Last week I had one of those moments.Since we were kicked out of our house for termite fumigation, we were lucky enough to house sit for my in-laws...

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