Thanksgiving, pending birth, and just some other stuff.

This hasn’t been a good week for posting, but it is the week of Thanksgiving plus I have the birth of my fourth child consuming my every thought–or so it seems.

Thanksgiving was great. I ate way too much food, but I ate so much that I didn’t even eat supper. Desert was my supper that night.

The day after Thanksgiving was spent with another side of the family. It was great too, but I really think that I was still full from the day before when I stuffed myself with stuffing and homemade macaroni and cheese. Yes, it was homemade mac n cheese–not the stuff from the box.

The kids are getting excited about the baby. I have kind of mellowed out when they question me about how I feel. Honestly, I think they have come to the same conclusion I have. This baby does not want to come out. Baby number 4 really likes it where he is right now and is refusing to give it up.

The good news is that if he hasn’t come by Monday, then I am to be at the hospital Monday morning to be induced. Basically, he can decide on his own to come out or else. I really like the or else, because I have fast labors and if I chose not to get the epidural then ok–but not making it to the hospital in time to get the epidural (like with no. 2) is a completely different story. Plus, I live about 45 minutes from the hospital and I do not want to be that woman on the side of the road with a frantic husband trying to deliver a baby and three other kids freaking out because my husband is having to deliver their baby brother. I mean, that could be traumatizing for life and make my daughter never want kids and my boys decide that it was just too risky to have kids because they don’t want to be that man on the side of the road delivering their own child.

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving and thought about what they were thankful for in their lives. I did.

But that is for another post.

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Is this really a contraction?

Last Monday, I was dilated to a 1. I am still basically a 1 and I am not liking it. The doctor I seen yesterday told me to come back in on Wednesday to see my regular doctor and maybe he will induce me since I have a history of short labors.

Of course, the first thing doctors or nurses want to know is how far apart the contractions are and how long they last. Yeah, right. Like it is that easy.

All day Sunday, I kept having contractions, but I couldn’t time them because they were irregular and some were stronger than others. Timing contractions just do not work for me. I try. Timing how far apart they are is hard enough without trying to time the length of the contraction. Then, there is always the self doubt…is this really a contraction?

This is no. 4 so I should be a pro at timing contractions. Nope. Sorry. Somehow, my mind is not wired to time contractions and besides…I never had to before.

No. 1–my water broke and I went to the hospital. I didn’t start having contractions until after I arrived at the hospital. The monitor did all the work on timing the contractions and letting me know that one was coming. From the time my water broke until he was born was 8 hours. I was only dilated to a 1 when I arrived at the hospital without any pain. The nurses said I couldn’t be in labor because I was just to happy. Labor = 8 hours.

No. 2–I woke up at 1am with constant pain that never let up. She was born at 3:10am. I couldn’t time her contractions before getting to the hospital because it was like having one continuous contraction. I didn’t even make it to the hospital in time for the epidural. I had her natural. Labor = 2 hours and 10 minutes (that I was actually awake and felt).

No. 3–I was induced due to stress and partly to avoid a delivery like no. 2. Again, the monitor did all the work. From inducing time to delivery time = 8 hours.

No. 4–So far, I am experiencing irregular contractions and other various signs that it is getting close, but hello–I am almost 39 weeks so how much longer could it be?

I am really tired of being pregnant and I am really ready for this wonderful baby boy to be born. I was ready to have my own personal pity party last night.

Oh, and my 13 y/o told me Saturday night that he was really tired and could I just not go into labor that night.

My wonderful children ask me every 15 minutes if I feel ok and if I am ready to go to the hospital yet. My oldest asked me what a contraption does. I explained to him that it was called a contraction–not contraption.

Last night, the questions consisted of about how I was feeling, if I was having contractions, if I was having contractions, then how far apart were they, and did I feel like this was the night because no. 1 was really hoping to get out of school the next day.

I finally told them that I didn’t want to discuss contractions, the hospital, or when I felt the baby would decide to make up his mind and come on out.

I told them that there was no one that was more ready for the baby to come than I was and that when the time came to go to the hospital that they would be the first ones to know.

I didn’t get anymore questions the rest of the night.

Or this morning.

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Weekend Madness

Sam’s Club is a wonderful place, especially if you have a large family. Now, I know that I only have three children and that may not seem like an unusually large family, but if you could see how my 13 y/o eats then you might understand where I am coming from on this topic. I am not exaggerating when I say that my 13 y/o son eats enough for two people and sometimes more.

A typical meal for my son is 2 large plates of spaghetti (about 3 cups at least), at least 2 pieces of Texas toast, about a cup of corn, a yogurt or two, a beef jerky, and if that isn’t enough then he might get a couple of rice krispy treats or gummy fruit snacks. Then, an hour later, he is ready to eat again because he is just starving and can’t wait for two hours until his insulin is out of his system and he can have a snack.

Seriously, the child eats that much. Usually, in about 10 minutes. I told him last night that evidently he came out starving and has never been able to get full.

Well, my 13 y/o likes going to Sam’s because of the cheap snack food bar and for all of the free samples. The child loves that he can just walk up and get a sample of food for free, but is really disappointed if it is not exactly the greatest thing he has ever tasted.

We went to Sam’s this past Saturday and we walk into a madhouse frenzy of folks. I don’t know whether these folks were there to get free samples of food or if they were there to actually shop. Maybe they were there to eat lunch for free. I don’t really know, but it was scary.

Little did I know that my children would join all the mad fun and decide to stand in line for a bite size free sample of chicken. My mother even joined in the crazy fun.

My head began to ache. 

I picked up a few things on my mental list and a few things that were not on my mental list. I forgot to get the french toast sticks because the aisle they were on was blocked by a hundred people trying to get beef wellington samples.

Then, my 6 y/o decided he had to go potty, so I made my 13 y/o take him. I headed toward the front of the store toward checkout. I thought I would see no. 1 and no. 3 on their way out of the restroom. I was wrong.

Every line had at least 8 customers waiting and I just got in the closest line. I sent no. 2 to look for no. 1 and no. 3.

No. 2 came back without finding them. My mother went searching for no. 1 and no. 3. Of course, no. 2 went with her.

Meanwhile, no. 1 and no. 3 found me in the checkout line and exclaim that they have been looking all over the store for me.

I asked them if Granny and no. 2 found them and they said no. So, I kept no. 3 with me and sent no. 1 to go find Granny and no. 2 to let them know that they had found me.

We all finally came together at the checkout and the kids went to the snack bar to get something to eat.

Apparently, the free samples were not enough.

My 13 y/o (no.1) was happy to get a slice of pizza that was bigger than his head and a large drink.

My 6 y/o (no.3) was happy to get a hot dog longer than his arm and a large drink.

My 11 y/o (no. 2 and the only girl) just wanted a drink. Apparently, the free food didn’t settle well with her stomach.

I was just happy to get out of that crazy place and away from all the crazy folks in there waiting in line trying to get a bite size piece of chicken and beef wellington samples for free.

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This week in my house…

This week in my house the chore charts from Raising Five have been a little harder for the kids to stick to because everything from our bedroom (mine and the hubby) has been placed somewhere throughout the entire house, so that my husband can get the addition that we are going to use as our bedroom finished. Once and for all.

He is hoping to get it done before baby no. 4 arrives.

I don’t see it happening.

Other happenings from this week:

SOMEHOW, the curtain rod in the laundry room fell, but NOBODY knows how it fell. Of course, my daughter was in there hanging clothes from the dryer, but she did not have anything to do with it falling. Other than this little episode, I am very pleased with how the shower curtain rod is working out in the laundry room.

I am trying to keep up with the Company Girl points. I missed one of the things this week, but that is ok. I am not doing it to win the prize. I am doing it, so that it helps me stay on task each week. Plus, it helps having something that is all my own.

The family planning schedule is working out nicely, too. Everyone knows where everyone is supposed to be and when except that no one knows when No. 2 should be picked up from school. If she has tutoring, she is picked up at 4:15. If she has cheer leading practice, then she is picked up at 4 or 4:30. I don’t know, but it is getting frustrating because now the school is getting frustrated. She doesn’t have anything going on next week, since it is a holiday week. Maybe I can get a handle on times whenever the baby is born and I am not working.

No. 1’s blood sugar is getting better. Earlier this week, he had a day when it never got under 200. I don’t like those days. Yesterday was a good day and he was 100 this morning when he woke up. This is good. (His goal is to be between 70 and 125.)

No. 3 still has not been taken to get a hair cut. That is on my list of things to do this afternoon or in the morning. Preferably, sooner than later.

Proud parent moment: No. 3 memorized his part for the Christmas program at church and he did not have a nervous breakdown this week during practice because he didn’t know the words to the songs. I am hoping this is a good sign that he will not have a meltdown when I tell him that I have nursery duty at church this Sunday.

My hallelujah moment this week was when the doctor told me I was dilated to 1.

The funniest thing that happened this week was my husband trying to “unstop” the tub.

The worst thing that happened this week is that my husband keeps finding stuff wrong with the house.

Future big purchase: We are going to have to have a new hot water heater soon. I want the biggest water heater they have, but I don’t think I am going to get it.

Our family planning schedule is going to be very thin this coming up week. I don’t want to make any commitments that I might not be able to keep. I am optimistic that I am going to go into labor sometime before Thanksgiving.

Nothing like thinking positive thoughts.

***In the spirit of Thanksgiving, next week try to think of things that you are thankful for and count your blessings.

For example, I am thankful I have a house even if it is falling apart.

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What next? A giant sink hole?

I really expect a giant sink hole to come and swallow up my house any day now.

Just a quick background so that you know how we came to live in this house:

My husband (before we were married over a year ago) cosigned (co-bought) a house with his cousin because he had excellent credit. She didn’t. She defaulted and messed up my husband’s credit score. We have taken over the house and now are living in the house ourselves—without his cousin, her husband, and their three kids. And no, we did not put them out onto the street as they would like for everyone to believe.

Now, we are making much needed repairs to the house. Some of their screw ups and some that just needed to be done because the house wasn’t kept up very well over the years.

The house is just the right size for our 5, almost 6 member family. It has 3 bedrooms and one bath (wish it had two). There is a huge room that his cousin was in the process of adding on that we are finishing and it will be our room once it is finished. His cousin evidently thought adding on to the house was a bigger priority than actually paying the house payment, but I digress.

My husband (the perfectionist) keeps finding stuff wrong with the house. Major stuff, like insufficient insulation, not enough braces in the ceiling, not enough screws and nails holding the walls up, and just a minor little problem like a window that is not screwed into anything at the top. Here is the kicker…my husband (bless his heart) pulled back the vinyl siding and guess what? There isn’t anything there to nail the window to and you can actually see into our bedroom. Folks, this is not good.

My husband is beginning to get really disgusted with the whole situation and he decided to call it quits for the day last night about 9pm. I went on to bed. He decided to take a shower.

Suddenly, I wake up to the sound of something odd. Water swishing? What is that? Ok, sounds like a plunger.

My dear husband walks out of the bathroom and I can tell just by his walk that he is frustrated. I assumed that the toilet must be stopped up. I roll over.

Then, more plunging noises.

Ok, now it would not take that much plunging to unstop a toilet. Would it?

He comes out of the bathroom and I ask him what is wrong.

The tub is stopped up.

The tub is stopped up?

He walks off into the living room.

Then, I had this overwhelming sensation welling up inside of me. It was uncontrollable. I tried to stop it.

I giggled.

Nope, I can’t laugh. He would kill me. Every time he turns around something wrong goes on with the house. I told him the other day to just quit looking at stuff.

I suppress the laughter, but the more I tried not to laugh, the more hysterically funny the entire situation became.

I snorted a couple of times and then I just let it go. Just a little.

Then, I heard him walking back to the bedroom. Ok…I have to pull it together.

He comes in the room, calmly sits on the bed, and asks me what is wrong. I barely managed to say nothing.

He wanted to know why I was crying. This is when I lost it for real. I could no longer contain it. I was crying, but crying from laughing so hard. I even had the thought that maybe it would put me into labor.

He began telling me all about his ordeal with the tub and how he couldn’t get it to unstop. The more he talked, the more hysterically I laughed. He didn’t seem to appreciate it as much as I did.

I decided to go check the situation out.

I pulled back the shower curtain.

I couldn’t believe it.

The stopper was pulled up. (UP means it is not going to drain.)

I pushed it down and the water began to go down the drain.

I turned around and told him (still hysterically laughing) that it might help if he would push the stopper down.

He began telling me about his foot hitting something and he thought that it was the faucet. It didn’t even occur to him that it was the stopper thingy. He just figured it was screwed up like the rest of the house.

I kept imaging my dear sweet husband in the bathroom plunging the tub with the stopper in the no draining position.

He admitted that it was kind of funny.

It took me a while to stop laughing.

The morals to this story:

1.    Never cosign for anyone…not even family.

2.    Hysterical laughter evidently does not make you go in to labor.

3.    If your tub stops up and will not drain at all, at least check to make sure the stopper is down so that it will drain.

 

 

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Diabetes: An ugly word that should never stand alone. Ever.

I am really glad to see an article out there trying to raise awareness about the cost of having “diabetes” and I use that word loosely. You will understand why in a minute.  With that said, I am going to apologize for the following vent/rant. The following is a pet peeve of mine and for many other parents of children with Type 1 Diabetes or people living with Type 1 Diabetes.

The thing that bothers me (and many others) is that they barely mention the fact that Type 1 and Type 2 Diabetes are really completely different diseases. Most people are completely unaware of how the TWO separate diseases work, thus they tend to lump both together.

For example, most people think that Type 1 Diabetes (insulin dependent diabetes) is the really bad diabetes. Oh, they must have really severe diabetes. These same people believe that Type 2 is somehow not as bad because they just have to take a pill and they don’t have to do shots.

Type 1 Diabetes is Type 1 Diabetes. Period. It is not somehow “worse” than Type 2 Diabetes. It is mainly genetic. It is not developed because of poor eating habits or from not exercising. People do not develop Type 1 Diabetes because they eat 5 lbs of sugar a day. They have to have a shot. They can-not-out-grow-it. Ever.

A cure is the only way to rid the body of Type 1 Diabetes. And contrary to popular belief–insulin is not a cure.

Type 2 Diabetes is Type 2 Diabetes. Sometimes it is hereditary. Sometimes it is poor eating habits combined with no exercise. The point is this–Type 2 Diabetes is generally brought on by poor lifestyle choices. When you eat nothing but Twinkies and drink cokes 24/7, then you are probably a good candidate for developing the disease. Of course, some eat like that and never develop it at all. Kind of like how someone who has never smoked a day in there life can develop lung cancer, while someone who has smoked for 60 years dies from natural causes at the age of 100. Type 2 folks can try to manage it with proper diet and exercise. Sometimes they need a pill to help their body absorb the insulin that their body does make and sometimes, if it is bad enough then they might have to have a little insulin.

Honestly, I don’t mean to lecture. I just want to inform the few that read my post to understand the difference without going into a 1000 word essay about the differences in the diseases.

Now, what brought this on?

The following article, Cost of Diabetes Totals $218 Billion in U.S. Alone, is a bit misleading. I feel that it does not do enough toward distinguishing between the two diseases.

“Diabetes has not seen a decline or even a plateauing, and the death rate from diabetes continues to rise,” said Dana Haza, senior director of the National Changing Diabetes Program, an effort Novo Nordisk began in 2005 to improve diabetes care and prevention in the U.S.

“The numbers just keep going higher and higher, and what we want to say is, ‘It’s time for government and businesses to focus on it,'” said Haza, who believes diabetes will be the country’s biggest health problem in the future, worsened by the obesity epidemic.

And then there is the “oops…I almost missed it because I wasn’t really paying attention” mention that there could be a difference in the Type 1 and Type 2. 

Among people known to have diabetes, the new study estimated $10.5 billion in medical costs and $4.4 billion in indirect costs, or a total of $14.9 billion, for people with Type 1 diabetes, which generally begins in youth and can have a genetic link. Nearly 6 percent of the 17.5 million Americans diagnosed with diabetes have Type 1.

The study estimated $105.7 billion in medical costs and $53.8 billion in indirect costs, totaling $159.5 billion, for people with Type 2 diabetes, previously called adult-onset diabetes because of its link to the bigger waistlines and sedentary lifestyles.

Would you have caught it?

Hint: Diabetes should never stand alone. It should always specify the Type of diabetes it is referencing. Always.

Don’t just take my word for it…read this thread, “Just curious… why is it so important to us that “outsiders” understand our kids’ D?”

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Making progress…one centimeter at a time.

I went to the doctor today. Everything is going good. I am almost 38 weeks pregnant and I am ready to have this baby.

Now, we just need the baby to get ready.

The doctor said that I was dilated to 1 centimeter today. This is good news after going last week to find out that evidently the little guy was experiencing some separation anxiety. The little guy was happy right where he was last week. So, a lot has happened in a week.

I was thrilled. I feel like we are making progress.

Of course, I realize that I could be dilated to 1 centimeter for a couple of weeks before actually going into labor.

But, let’s hope not.

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World Diabetes Day

Today was World Diabetes Day.

Bet you didn’t know that.

My oldest son was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes on May 8, 1999. He was three, almost four. That day everything changed.

Shots had to be given. Carbs had to be counted. Blood sugar had to be tested. Food had to be measured out. Log books had to be kept that recorded blood sugar, carbs, and units of insulin.

Since his diagnosis, we have taken trips to his endocrinologist every three months. They keep track of everything from growth charts, cholesterol, thyroid levels, to his hA1c. An hA1c is an average blood sugar reading of three months.

We have dealt with highs and with lows. There have been times that he has had ketones. We have been in the emergency room because of a stomach virus that would not allow him to keep anything down, therefore, I couldn’t keep his blood sugar up.

So far, we have been fortunate enough to not have any real emergencies and I hope it continues that way.

Sometimes, I feel guilty because I feel like my other children may not always get the attention that they should, but at other times I feel guilty because I wish I could have one day that I did not have to worry about him and what he was eating, how much he was eating, if he was checking himself like he should, or if he was doing his shots. Then, I feel guilty because it is not me that has to do it endure the sticks and shots–he is the one that suffers through that.

I have tried to make his life as normal as possible. Diabetes is not an excuse and he will never use it as such. As he gets older, he wishes that he could just be like other kids. I always remind him that everyone has something that they have to deal with in their lives–his something just occurred early in life.

As a mom of a child with Type 1 Diabetes, I have to say that it is always on my mind. I bet an hour does not go by that I don’t wonder how his blood sugar is doing, if he went low after gym at school, if he is running high or has ketones, how that insulin dose change is going, or if he is doing what he is supposed to on his weekend with his dad.

I wonder how four slices of pizza is going to affect his blood sugar after his short acting insulin wears off in 2 1/2 hours. I struggle with counting the carbs at a restaurant that does not have any nutrition facts listed.

I hate having to sound like a broken record. I hate that most of my conversations with my son involve his diabetes. I hate that I have to ask him if he has his bag and everything he needs before we leave the house.

I hate that Type 1 Diabetes does not get much attention from researchers. I hate that Type 1 Diabetes does not get the money for research that it deserves.

Because Insulin is not a cure.

I want to imagine a day when my son does not have to worry about every bite that he eats and does not have to worry about what his hA1c happens to be.

Think about it…

Imagine always having to read lables.

Imagine always having to count every carb that goes in your mouth…down to every little ketchup packet.

Imagine always having to check your blood sugar before you eat a meal.

Imagine always having to count up all the carbs you have eaten and doing a shot after each meal.

Imagine always having to stop your favorite thing to do just to check your blood sugar.

Imagine always having to carry around insulin, meters, and all your diabetes supplies everywhere you go.

Imagine always having to be prepared with glucose tabs or crackers for a low.

Imagine in ten years having to do the following:

Checking your blood sugar 21,900 times. Imagine  21,900 finger sticks.

Doing 18,250 short acting shots after eating at least four times a day.

Doing 5465 long acting shots.

Now, I can’t imagine a day without having to think about finger sticks, shots, counting carbs, or carrying around a bag of supplies. I am not even the one that has Type 1 Diabetes.

I am just the mom of a child with Type 1 Diabetes.

Imagine that…

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High Expectations

 

I am now 37 weeks pregnant. I am evidently nesting.

 

I organized my kitchen cabinets the other night and my laundry is all caught up.

 

I can’t concentrate on anything at work because all I seem to think about is everything that I need to be doing to get ready for the baby no. 4’s arrival. I keep wanting to make lists.

 

I have started keeping up with a family planner that came off of Raising Five’s website.

 

I have chore spec sheets put up in all the rooms (hidden of course).

 

I seem to have been able to keep up with the laundry for over a week. It is going to be strange not having to play catch up over the weekend.

 

I am trying to get everyone on a cleaning schedule and have everyone organized before the baby comes. You know…for a smooth transition.

 

You see, I have this fairy tale image of my coming home after the baby is born. I see myself coming home to a clean house with everyone doing their part to keep the house running smoothly. The kitchen will be clean and the bathroom will be spotless. The laundry will all be done and put away.  

 

I know it is a fantasy.

 

Although, my hospital stay will only be two nights at the most, my house will be chaos by the time I arrive home from the hospital.

 

I know it is only two nights, but seriously though…two nights and all of my carefully laid out plans will crumble.

 

I know this because when I started working during the summer, some things just did not go smoothly at all. Then school started. That created another set of problems.

 

Here are a couple of examples:

 

The first day of school, No. 3 got on the wrong bus and No. 1 was having a meltdown. No. 1 (the 13 y/o boy) is the worry wart of the family. No. 3 made it home safely, but late. He was fine until he walked in the door and seen his Granny sitting there (I was still at work, but aware of the situation) and then he immediately went into major Prozac-needing meltdown mode.

 

Then, No. 3’s birthday was a couple of weeks after school started. I was unaware that he was allowed to bring cupcakes to school for his birthday. He still brings up the horror that I forgot his cupcakes.  

 

No. 2, the drama queen, often has a meltdown because everyone else is getting all the attention and no one ever listens to her.

 

There is also the fact that no one can keep up with who has afterschool and what time they have to be picked up. No one can remember practice times or game times, except for me.

 

So, now that one more baby is going to be added to the family, I will have even more stuff to keep up with. This is all the more reason to make sure everything runs smoothly while I am at the hospital.

 

If it doesn’t, then I might just have one of those major Prozac-needing meltdowns.

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Chores, Weekly Planning, and Organizing

My first week of using the chore spec sheets and weekly planning chart found on Raising Five’s website has went really well. I was actually able to stick with it. I found it really easy to follow and the weekly planning chart made me realize just how much my family does in a week.

I placed the chore spec sheets on the inside of each of my kid’s closet door. No. 1 and No. 2 are doing well with them, but it will be better when we finally get through with painting and doing much needed repairs to our house.

I traced No. 3’s hand for his chores. His is easy stuff, though. He is six, but he is able to read well enough and 5 fingers to read is not that difficult for him to do. It is really basic stuff. For example, his morning routine is the following: make bed, get dressed, put away pj’s, brush hair, and brush teeth.  His afternoon routine: Snack & drink, homework, sign papers and agenda, get backpack ready, daily chore. His bedtime routine: Pick up toys, bath, pj’s, drink, brush teeth & potty. 

I also became a Company Girl. Being a Company Girl doesn’t cost anything and it is really easy. Click on the icon and check it out. 

Raising Five and Home Sanctuary are great motivators.

I have been able to keep up with my laundry all week and I even organized my kitchen cabinets yesterday.

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