Blocked Energy

Just pick up the phone and dial. Just pick up the phone and dial. It's not that hard. Really. The phone is an inanimate object and the person on the other end will not be able to bite your head off. Not even close.

As you can see, I'm having a hard time picking up the phone to make a particular call. And now I'm realizing that it is blocking my energy from doing other things that I want to. My mind is focusing on this one thing that I'm rather dreading.

ENOUGH!!!!! Can't you hear my foot stamping on the floor?

Tonight I WILL make the call. I've got nothing to lose and everything to gain. Wish me luck.

Friday Whine Session

I often don't discuss my workday with Daryle in the evenings. Usually, my reasons are: I don't want to burden him with my problems, I don't feel particularly keen to relive unpleasant parts of my day, or I may simply not want to hear his input. Sorry dear, but we have very different approaches to solving issues.

Last night when I attempted to explain my typical silence regarding my workday, my comments were met with a "you just can't understand the need to get a load off your shoulders." Quickly followed by Daryle storming out of the room and not speaking to me since then. Hold on, this wasn't an attack on how he deals with his daily stresses, I was simply trying to be honest by explaining my own situation. To clear the air I monologued out in the living room trying to further explain myself. Mistake. As you may have guessed, this was a very one-sided conversation. Insert sarcasm here: Heaven forbid that his eyes and attention be taken away from Ice Road Truckers to have an adult conversation with me.

Okay I'm done now. I could ramble on ad infinitum, but even I wouldn't be able to tolerate my whining.

Life Through the Kitchen Window

I've thought, and laughed, about how bizarre I must look if someone were to watch me through the kitchen window. And as we hardly ever close our blinds before bedtime I'm sure people get an eyeful quite often.

Take bottle warming as an example. In the evening the bottle routine goes something like this:
-grab a clean bottle sleeve
-drop in a liner
-measure 3 scoops of powdered formula and fill bottle with already cooled boiled water
-throw splash of water into bottle heater and toss in the bottle (don't forget to put the bottle nipple and ring on first)
-while bottle heats up, prepare two more bottles for tomorrow and place in fridge, top up diapers in Andy's bag and refill the wipeys box and if there's any time remaining unload a few dishes from the dishwasher or tidy the kitchen table
-take the nice warm bottle and serve to Andy, who has been patiently waiting (ha!) while being lugged about the kitchen while I take my sweet time warming his bottle.

Another example of what might look a little odd through the window is story time:
-prepare ingredients for dinner and put on stove/in oven/etc.
-call Daniel to grab a book and bring it over
-drop to the kitchen floor to have story time with the boys (seen from the window as vanishing out of sight)
-read enthusiastically (loudly, funny noises, moving around and so on) until book is finished
-ask Daniel to return the book to wherever he had originally found it
-jump to feet as pot of threatens to either catch fire or boil over and avert almost certain dinner disaster.

I also often have face-pulling contests with Daniel and funny dance moves contests which invariably lead to Daniel and I dancing wildly around the kitchen.

Really, what anyone would see is a mom trying her best to fill several roles all at the same time.

I Think My Coat is Getting Larger

To my pleasure and dismay I think my clothes are getting bigger. Or could it be that I'm getting slightly perceptibly smaller? All this fruit and veggie munching and carb avoidance might just be paying off. The minimal efforts to exercise might be helping too.

Sounds great. Most people would be very pleased. However, I just splurged and bought a LOT of new clothes during the holidays. One of my new skirts is already in danger of falling off when I stand up and my new jacket, which when purchased was a little on the smallish size is now beginning to fit quite nicely. Not to mention the jeans, worn maybe 4 times, are now hanging off me like rhinoceros skin. Can you hear the exasperated sigh?

But in keeping with my bonus-be-gone theme relating to the previously mentioned splurge, I'll rectify the problem with a little more retail therapy! Minimal retail therapy though. #1: I don't know how much weight I'll lose and #2: I don't want to load up my wardrobe with clothes that are going to be too big in the near future. Listen to me! Don't I sound like a windbag? My clothing dilemma is really just a blip in the grand scheme of things. I'm feeling, and sounding, rather shallow and superficial by being honest and putting my thoughts down in writing.

Frankly, I'm at a bit of a loss as to what to think of my situation. Is being diabetic a blessing in disguise? Will being diagnosed with a serious disease be what it takes to make me take my health seriously? Apparently. How sad that I couldn't motivate myself before this point. But, as I sit here looking at a picture of my two boys, I know deep in my heart that they're the ones I've got to do this for. Shortening my lifespan by 15 years is just not an option.

Happy New Year!

Well, didn't Christmas and New Year's just fly by?

Blink

Over.

I'm baaaaack...

Hope you had a nice time over the holidays. While I enjoyed the festivities, I'm rather pleased that life will be getting back to normal again. A new and improved version of normal. After all the overindulging and lack of sleep I haven't been feeling very well lately. Nothing that I could really put my finger on, just feeling unenergetic and yucky. But yucky enough to know that something's amiss. So, I dug out the blood glucose meter that I had used during my gestational diabetes and... 5...4...3...2...1...   *14.5*

Oh heck!

Hold on - wait a cotton-pickin' minute! That can't possibly be correct. The high end of normal is 7.0. My reading was more than double what it should be and I'd been trying to eat reasonably that day. The meter must be faulty (interpret as denial). Where's the control solution? Dab... 5...4...3...2...1... right on target. Darn, my blood is really like a vampire's version of pancake syrup.

So that day and the next I watched every morsel that I ate and 24 hours later my readings were in the 5 to 6 range. Much better. But it hasn't taken much for the readings to spike again. Last night I had some beef and vegetables on rice noodles and my reading spiked to to 9.2.

So, off to have a chat with the doctor. We discussed the 'return' of my diabetes. In reality it never really went away, but I was in denial. However, the writing is on the wall and this time I'm taking the time to read it and take it's warning seriously.

I'm going in for blood work tomorrow morning. The results will reveal what my blood sugar levels have looked like over the past three months. Three months!!! Yikes. I dread to see what the results are going to reveal. The upside is that I'm sure I'll be able to control my blood sugar levels with diet and exercise. Exercise has always been somewhat of a four letter word for me up until this point. It's time to rethink my exercise demon and move beyond my personal hang-up. At this moment I'm seeing it as a safety net. Something that's there in the background, but not the main focus of my life; but always present and keeping me out of harm's way.

All that being said, my body has dictated my New Year's resolution: Eat better and exercise. This time I can't fall off the wagon. My health depends on it.