Towards 2013 (Part 1)

We're here in California,doing the semi-annual Christmas w/the other side. The day of travelling to get out here was nothing,if not interesting. The shuttle guy came 1/2 hour early, so we were rushing to finalize getting everything & everyone out of the house & the car seat installed in the shuttle van. And then we drove about a mile way & just SAT there waiting, for about 45 minutes.( he wasn't due to pick them up for another hour,but thought they'd be ready) They weren't, so we just sat there till he decided to go pick up the other passenger about 10 minutes away,& then come back. It was about 1 hr & 50 min.before our flight was scheduled to take off,& we still weren't enroute to the airport. The other family had a infant as well, so that van was pretty packed. Got to the airport with about an hour to go,rushed through security (it's kind of nice to have a baby,because they don't make me go through the scanner or patdown) ,& had just enough time to grab a sandwich from McD's & do a bathroom run before it was time to board. The baby did his hyperactive squirm/twist/bounce/grab/drop/scream for about 40 minutes then fell asleep for about 45 (layed out on both of ours laps) then woke up as we landed in Charlotte,NC. Had a wet diaper which soaked through his pants & mine,so when we got off the plane it was off to do damage control on that. And then it was literally time to board the next flight to LA..didn't have time to grab a meal for the plane. This plane ride was pure horribleness as he screamed for about 4 hrs(of the 5.5). Nothing appeased him,he wanted to get down & play. I suppose the only good thing about it was that someone switched seats with me so that at least the hubby & I could sit together..it was a 2 person job. Various well-meaning people would stop by,ooh and ah,& tell me my darling angel would fall asleep soon. (Just stop...you do not know this child) Gahhhh,nope. I did not use Benadryl,but I will on the flight back. Eventually,we got into LA(fun fact: my ears hurt like heck & my too-short-to-reach-the-floor legs were about to fall off) found the rental car place,drove around for what seemed like hours to get to our hotel in the Valley(East Coast Time: 1:30 AM) while the baby woke back up & started screaming & my earnest husband bought me a Gatorade(not diet:bg 3 hours later was 398) & it was just not a fun trip out here.
We're here though,& my husband's mom is enjoying seeing her grandchild again. I am thoroughly sick of people dishing out baby advice though.
Merry Christmas,one & all! (Should I not post again for several days) It is nice to actually see the sun again...in MD you don't.

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The Dream

Last night (or rather, this morning), immeadiently proceeding my "fell asleep in clinicals, got kicked out of nursing school" nightmare...I dreamed The Dream. You know, the one where we all get cured & all that jazz. I don't often dream The Dream (but when I do, it never comes courtesy of a needle) & what triggered it, no one ever knows. (maybe because I've been thinking so much about diabetes lately, my 14th diaversary was on Monday) Here's how The Dream went down.

We're outside of a stadium, waiting for something to happen. Suddenly a group of reporters (& quite possibly, every type 1 in the world) made a mad dash for the stadium,because there was going to be some huge announcement. It was pandomonium. People were crying, laughing, screaming, hugging each other(while oddly, trying to stampede each other to death to be first in line) & it was like the end of a war..it just gave you the warm fuzzies all over. And then they played the video of how the Artificial Pancreas had been perfected enough to be THE REAL DEAL... a cure, a perfect cure. It was a joyous dream, & the fact that I didn't quite make it to getting one didn't matter (my Dexcom alarmed,waking me up & reminding me that my blood sugar had just gone over the high mark & I'd better do something about it NOW) & upon waking up,I still could savored that feeling for the briefest of moments. Then I got to thinking, when there ever is a cure that's probably how it will go down. (I don't necessarily think the AP will be it though) Only there will also be sadness, for the people who didn't live to see that cure.

For now, these moments are just dreams...but one day, they will be reality.

A Letter from my Son: Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I've been a good boy this year, truly I have. I was born, I ate/slept/pooped/grew into a whopping 20(!)+ lbs. I learned to crawl and to say "Mama" "Dada" and as of yet indistinguishable "gaaaa's" which clearly mean something, Mommy & Daddy just don't know yet.(parents are SO.CLUELESS...sigh) So this year, I've narrated a short Christmas wish list (forgive me, I don't know how to type just yet so Mommy is writing this)

#1

A big box, something like the above. This is one of my favorite "toys",because I can knock it down & chase it all over the kitchen floor, while Mommy is cooking supper. The actual blocks, eh they are so blahhhhhh in my baby world.

#2 A dolly with long, curly, golden hair. I've almost pulled all of Mommy's out by this point, and I need something else to yank on.

#3 A Bell. I totally dig the noises they make. Or pretty much anything dangerous or that makes noise, I am a fan of.

#4 A Cat Cage...so they can't take a swipe at me, every time I touch their tail(s) etc. They don't seem to like small humans like me. (what's up with that, we are AWESOME...)

And one last thing, Santa. I will leave you a plate of chocolate chip cookies (carb count: 29.7 carbs per piece) & your case of diet coke outside on the porch, otherwise Daddy or Mommy might get into them.


Yours Truly,

drools and hugs

the J-baby