Thursday, September 20, 2012

Tonight I'm tired. Really, every night I'm tired but tonight I'm wiped , pooped, fried,toast,cooked... The first two had to do with toileting and the last three, food. Guess what I do with my time? It's funny....but I know a lot of moms like me. I have had the  privilege of talking to other moms with special needs kids, mom's with a house full of teenagers, moms with new little ones, moms who have lost their little ones, or big ones. It seems that for all of the different challenges, joys and sorrows each one faces, there is a common thread that weaves through all of our lives. We are moms. We have probably been used as a human napkin (or nakbin as my daughter Ariel says). We have had  stretches of interrupted sleep, bathroom time, phone time, husband time, "me" time-ha! We have held disgusting things in our hands and NOT thrown up. We have worried, cried, prayed, cried some more, celebrated, grieved,fought,stood our ground, and.... fall into bed exhausted.
So.... as I am laying here typing, suddenly I am not thinking anymore about how tired I am. I am tired because I'm mom. I've been ref-ing,stamping out fires, slinging hash, checking blood sugar, mixing up Miralax. Loving. That would poop anyone out. And see, we're back to the toileting....
 Sleep well, mamas everywhere. Tomorrow's on the way.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

One day

For my son One day..... You will see the value of following good advice. One day..... You will think ahead and and hit your hurdles with a graceful stride. One day..... I will be better at loosening my grip. I'll grit my teeth, hold my breath and watch as you fall, regroup, succeed and grow. One day..... I will cheer more than I chastise. Someday..... You will invest in your dreams. Someday..... I will watch your dreams unfold. Tonight... I will tell you I love you and picture you as you are now, while dreaming of yesterday,one day and someday. Tomorrow..... You will be one step closer to being a man and one step further from the child I held. One step further from me and I pray, one step closer to all that God has for you.... One day..... Some day.

Monday, April 9, 2012

My house is quiet. I am thinking of my kids and remembering them as little people. I remember the constant expressions of love.... The sloppy wet kisses, proposals of marriage, the smell of them after a bath, their delighted laughter, and being the queen of their hearts. I am glad for these memories. They sustain me as I now live in Fledgling, Indepedence. If you've gone back packing, you know how amazing food tastes when you finally quit for the day. Top Ramen never tasted so delicious. Salami and Babybels are fine dining....That is how it seems for me now. The little moments that I probably failed to completely cherish in the moment with my kids are my treats to devour now. So when I see a little one looking at their mama with the, " I adore you", shine in their baby eyes, I am caught time traveling. I remember. I tell my kids these stories....the stories of us. I remember when. And you know what? For maybe the first time that day, I have their full attention. Turns out, they enjoy time traveling too.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Can today be a "do-over"day?

Once upon a time there was this dark cloud. The end.

If I were telling this story to my daughter, she would stop me and say, "Moooooommmm!Tell me the real story." She's right. That's not a story. It's a feeling. And feelings are notorious for changing.
Yesterday there was a fire across the river near our home. The smell was distinctive and thick black cloud began to fill the sky. It was hard to ignore.It seemed a good idea to avoid it as much as possible.
When I was running errands today, I noticed that the smell and the smoke was gone. Really as if it had never happened. It had blown away and was only a memory.
Today was a smoky day in my home. The fire of frustration was burning and it, well, frankly, it was pretty stinky. I was living on my last nerve, frayed as it was. "Discussions" about measuring food,counting carbs, being responsible, being honest and also "inspirational talks" about curbing impulsivity,sensitivity, and all the other "ivities" had left me feeling about as popular as toe nail fungus.
I left to go find a little peace at Goodwill and cool my heels. On the way, I was greeted by a driver who was making his own lane out of whatever he could find. Once at Goodwill, two young women decided to steal some clothes. They had a baby with them.
I realized that I really just wanted to go home. And I did. The day continued with some little clumps of embers still burning.
Finally, with kids in bed and hubby curled up and softly snoozing, I am afforded the time and state of mind to reflect.
I expect that much like that fire, the smoke of this day will blow away. Almost like it never happened. But,now as I think about it.... If I were to go to the scene of the fire across the river, there would be visible signs. A fire always leaves evidence. A mark.
And a fire at home ,or in ourselves is no different. It scorches and scars. It takes time to heal.
Smokey the Bear used to say, "Only YOU can prevent forest fires." That was one smart bear.
Lesson learned today.... Take care of myself so that I am less like a box of kindling and more like a long awaited rain.

Thursday, April 5, 2012


This nest, feathered and warm, is your home, your safe haven.
From it, you can see for miles…. mountains, valleys and endless blue sky.
Here you find rest, safety, food and fellowship. And here is where you find your wings.

For if I let you stay, you will never soar. You will never feel the wind lift you or revel in the glorious dive toward earth. If I let you stay, you will not meet your potential. You will exist frozen in time and in heart.

But if I let you go, I will soar with you as you skim lakes and push to rise over tall mountains.
If I let you go, I go with you, though I stay. I’ll watch you until I can see you no more and then I’ll wait…. remembering when you were small and helpless.
Now you are free. And so am I.
                                                            By tmw for abe

Saturday, March 31, 2012

Last night was crazy!!! Our son appears at our door in the middle of the night. Somehow I sense him before he speaks. He says...."I'm 30." I shout at my husband and fly out of bed. Not easy, since I have arthritis. I am once again surprised at the effectiveness of adrenaline.
His best friend is staying overnight and he appears to be taking it all in with wide eyes and a stiff, nearby hovering stance. My son is eat raw hotdogs .Lots of them. I get him to drink juice. He wants to walk around. He wants to lie down on the floor.I tell him he can't lie on the floor or close his eyes. I want to scream. I'm tired and terrified at the same time. I hold myself together... actually God does that as I keep setting the timer to recheck to see if his blood sugar is climbing. It does.
We finally all go to bed and set the alarm for one hour. My husband gets up this time. He has gone low again. Milk and another alarm setting. He levels out and then we pass out. My daughter manages to sleep through the whole thing.Another thank you God moment. She has Sensory Processing disorder and this would be a hard thing for her to deal with.
I find out in the morning that my son was laying down to go to sleep as he was crashing. For whatever reason, maybe boys being boys, my son's buddy smacked his face, rousing him and then causing him to realize he was low. Then he checked and saw "30". 30!!!!!!!!! 
Stevie, I am grateful to you. Your" thirteen year old boys's will be boys, sleep- over face smack" probably saved Abe's life. For every time I have scolded you for horsing around at bedtime, I take it back. Thank you for messing around.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Finally getting started...

Welcome to our life.
It may end up sounding a lot like yours. Sorry for the redundancy or maybe I should say, Hooray!- someone else understands what it's like and truly we aren't alone. I guess walking together and understanding each other is not's sanity saving.

I am a mom of a 13 year old man/child with type 1. He is beautiful, talented and incredibly hard to figure out.
He was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes at the age of 7. Memorial weekend. And it was. I was both grateful that he survived and in shock, somehow knowing that our lives just shifted dramatically. Really, I had no idea... maybe just an inkling. That was probably a good thing. Reality in doses is always so much easier to swallow.

It has been a ride. Not one you really want to stand in line for. More like the one that a friend drags you onto.
Right now it feels like we are stuck on the" loop de loop" part upside down. Disconcerting and a little desperate.
 I am trying to understand how he feels but he's not talking. I know... he's 13 and I'm his mom. I know how I feel. So does he. I have never really had difficulty sharing my thoughts or opinions. I try to keep things open and obvious in the hopes that he'll join in. Not so far. So I lay out bait and wait.
It's weird. Puberty and diabetes seem to have a lot in common. They both kind of take over, mess with your head and make you want to isolate from your parents. I'm imagining how it must feel inside of him.... two invaders fighting for space. Wow.
I may not understand how diabetes feels but I sure remember puberty. Oh, yeah.
 I'm at least half way there, right?
More to come....