Zit-ra, otherwise known as she who has blemishes

I have a zit.

Two of them actually and those bad boys are NOT going anywhere.  Now blemishes are typically not life-stopping events but when someone in your family has autism ... it CAN put a kink in your day.

We had a 2-hour delay for school today.  So I opted to go all out for breakfast.  We had eggs, sausage ... and hey, I even made cinnamon toast.  So naturally I was hoping we might have a leisurely breakfast (and this is where you say, "hope all you want sistah cause it ain't happening.")  Youngest was running around like his feet were on fire, singing "delays are good, delays are kind" and Little Dude was just staring at me.

Or more specifically, my zit.

"You have a bump.  Is that just extra skin cells or what exactly is going on in there?"

and then the worst comment of all,

"Are there germs in there?"

OK, those of you, reading are probably saying, "What? Why is THAT the worst comment?"  It is because Little Dude is a germ-a-phobe.  This is usually where I launch into a gigantic medical explaination (that I've Googled as soon as the subject of germs comes up) of what IS a (fill in the germ-filled item) and how it won't hurt him.

Today.  (sigh) Today I was cranky so I touched my zit and then rubbed his head shouting "Ooooh, germy, germs germs."  In other words, the mature route.

He stared at me for a moment ... and then giggled.

Maybe he's growing up.
Not so much me tho.

That's No Moon, It's a Space Station

I just had a "discussion" with my son.  OK, I'm going to admit it  (to borrow a phrase from Rants from Mommyland) I lost my schmitt.  There MAY have been a bit of crankiness involved.

Here's where the frustration arose, Little Dude has the tendency to ask me the same questions over and over (and OVER) again.  He will finish his food and I will tell him to put his dishes by the sink.  "In the sink or by the sink?" he will ask.  "How many jellybeans can I have as a treat?" or "Do I need to brush my teeth?" or "Where should I put my shoes?"  The list goes on.

Tonight, I lost it.  I felt like he wasn't listening.

He ran to his room crying. 

When I finally got him to talk to me, he explained.  "I ask questions because I want to be absolutely certain what you want.  When you are piloting a ship to the moon, you need to make sure that your calculations are correct or you will slingshot into the moon or hit another spaceship."

That stopped me.

Aside from thinking that we watch WAAAAAAAY too much science fiction television and being amazed that he is only ten; he's right.  I'd rather have Little Dude be my pilot, any day, any time.

I've always been annoyed by the need of both my "boys" to be right.   It never occurred to me that his annoying need to check and recheck information wasn't a weakness in him, but just the way his brain works.  It will probably serve him well in his job as an adult.

I'm just going to have dig deep (really REALLY deep) into the stores of my patience.  Because for Little Dude, it IS Rocket Science.

Don't Get Mad If I Take You Down

I'm going to admit it ... I'm hiding here in the dining room, spying. I'm listening to my boys interact with their guests. OK, I'm going to be COMPLETELY honest here and say that I'm really just listening to one kid interact.

Yep, I'm worried about little dude.

We're having a play-date with a family that (dun-dun-DUN) doesn't KNOW about little dude's struggles with others. They don't know that he's you know (whispering) ON the spectrum. It's not that I care what they think. I don't. I'm worried that Little Dude's feelings will get hurt when they tell him that he's "weird" (someone has said that) or "stupid" (someone has said that too) or "kind of like an octopus, and he just can't keep his hands to himself" (an ADULT actually said that).

My son is nine. He cries when he gets frustrated, hits if he feels intimidated, does NOT have an inside voice and struggles to play well with others. But my son is also one of the sweetest boys I have met, is frighteningly intuitive about what people think and has an incredibly high IQ.

I see his struggles with others and I totally want to build a bubble around him to protect him. I have this overwhelming (and yes, damn it, irrational) need to protect him from stupid people. Yes, that's right. I'm calling some people stupid.

Listen. We are all different. We look different, we learn differently and some of us can't understand about personal space and the unwritten rules of society. No biggie. A simple reminder is fine; calling someone else weird or stupid is not.

And keep in mind that the pissed off parents of special kids get a special "buy" for using the "s" word.

Just sayin'

Rethinking the name of this blog ...

because tonight I'm feeling kinda broken AND beaten.

So you all know that I have the big D, Diabestest disease in the whole world. But what you may not know is that we deal with not one CHRONIC disease in this family, but two.

Little dude has Autism (so does the big dude so I suppose technically, we have 3 chronic diseases although 2 are the same.) Yep, we're a whole family of broken people. We are sooo not the Brady bunch! Wow, though I would pay money to see that sit-com.

And to be absolutely specific, Little Dude has PDD-NOS (wha? you are probably saying) That is he has Pervasive Developmental Disorder—Not Otherwise Specified. (PDD-NOS) is on the autism spectrum and is often referred to as atypical autism. Probably more information than you needed to have.

How it presents itself is with OCD, Anxiety, Dyslexia, and ADHD-like behavior (did I mention OCD and Anxiety?). And as much as I love Little Dude ... it is tiring and overwhelming sometimes. Given that I am already tired and overwhelmed by my OWN chronic disease ... Houston we have a problem.

Right now we are struggling with a side affect of one of his meds. Specifically the medicine gives him the trots. This is not a great complication for a kid who already obsesses over germs and cleanliness. So in addition to cleaning up his messes, and encouraging him to put lotion on his red, raw hands, I spend much of my day explaining how his immune system works and why it's not really germs that are making him sick.

Thankfully, we see his doctor on Wednesday.

All I can think of is the slogan, "Better Living Through Pharmacology" and I'm thinking, better for whom?

Thanksgiving leftovers

Let me assure you ... I am in no way Martha Stewart. And yet, in spite of this, I have a turkey carcass and a pot of water simmering on my stove.

"Can I just tell you that they sell cans of this ... (as I wave vaguely toward the stove) at the grocery store."
"Yes," my husband responds. "But those are full of salt and all sorts of bad stuff. This is tastier, healthier and better for your diabetes."

And so here I am, at 9;30 at night, making stock. First of all I have to tell you that there are 13 ingredients in Martha Stewart's recipe. And what the heck is "chervil?" It sounds like something you say to your husband when he asks you to pick up his dry cleaning, "you bet, chervil"

There are times when I wonder if all this organic stuff will actually help my diabetes. My mother-in-law certainly believes that. She reads about anti-oxidents, vitamins, exercise, correct posture, 8 glasses of water, etc, etc, etc. And every article she reads in a magazine or on-line she cuts out and mails or forwards to me. It makes for a lot of reading about health. My health.

And I think, really? Does living have to be this complicated? Isn't it about moderation? Eating more good stuff than bad and getting up and moving once in a while?

This is something that I will ponder tonight as I drink a glass of water (not my eighth ... probably closer to my third) and wait until my stock has "simmered 3 1/2 to 4 hours on a low heat."

I'll letcha know if it really DOES taste better.

A Dear John Letter

Dear Diabetes,

You suck and I hate you but ... our current relationship isn't working. I can't be angry anymore. I'm tired. If there was a way to get you to move out and leave ... I would be all for it. Unfortunately, you and I are stuck together forever, and we need to find a way to get along. You are not the enemy, you are just a part of me that is less desirable ... like a wart or a bad haircut.

I can see now that when I go to the doctor, I become angry and defensive about how you and I get along. My anger at the doctor causes me to stop listening, and the result is that I really don't follow their advice. This isn't good for either of us. I want to live a long time and those health professionals are only trying to help me achieve this goal.

So the long and short of it boils down to this ... something has to change. In the past, I guess I've expected the change to come from you. That somehow you would go away or diminish your affect on my life but that's a childish and overly hopeful notion. The change is going to have to come from me, one small step at a time.

So this week I will:
1. write down what I eat
and
2. test before I eat

Baby steps.

The definition of insanity [is] doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results ~ Albert Einstein

Happy (Fill in the blank here)

There are some weird holidays that we as American's celebrate. And no, I'm not talking about the standard Halloween, Christmas and Arbor Day. I am talking about the bizarre, stupid and inane holidays that are actual observances.

Did you know that this month is
National Caramel month
National Popcorn Poppin' month
National Dental Hygiene month
and
National Sarcastic Awareness month

It is also Peace, Friendship and Good Will Week. And in the interest of celebrating that I present the top 1o or so reasons Diabetes doesn't completely suck.

• I am completely unfazed by needles
• I get to eat yummy sugary items (like caramels) completely guilt-free when my blood sugar is low.
• I don't have to worry about profanity when I cut myself. My first words are not "s@*#" but "quick ... get me a test strip."
• I'm a walking carbohydrate fact book; I have that many carb/fiber/calorie counts memorized.
• I am a member of a growing group of total strangers who can meet and be chatting within seconds of meeting: Diabetics of the world, unite! Watch out world ... bwahahaha.
• Diabetes has made me more aware of my body and given me a better understanding of medicine. And I can amaze and astound total strangers with my creepy knowledge of medical terms.
• I have a handy excuse whenever I need one: "Oh, I'm sorry I can't (fill in the blank: eat, do, whatever) that because it would really interfere with my blood sugar control. All right, that one's a bit evasive but HEY, every advantage counts.
• The light on my pump is convenient as hell. Imagine walking around at night with a flashlight readily tethered to you!! I never need worry about tripping over legos in the middle of the night.
• I like that McDonalds, Applebees and many other restaurants are putting carb information on their menus. To the other restaurants I say, "get with the program here people."
• I think that my chronic condition has made me more aware and tolerant of others. We are all different and sometimes that's a good thing.

and the number one reason that I don't hate having Diabetes all the time:

• I am cool with my sons because I look like I am part robot with my pump and CGS attached to me.

So get off your tushie, people and celebrate the wacky holiday of your choice. Happy Cap Lock Day to you all.