Last Year

November is National Diabetes Awareness Month and November 14th is World Diabetes Day, the birthday of Dr. Frederick Banting who discovered insulin in 1922 and won the nobel prize for his discovery the following year.

It’s important to educate about Type 1 Diabetes (as well as Type 2).  It’s important to know the signs and symptoms of T1d.  We did not know them and Ryan was a very, VERY sick little boy before we took him to the doctor.  We do NOT want any child or adult to be uninformed and unaware.

We also want people to understand Type 1 diabetes more.  The stereotypes and myths and the misleading of the media all serve as negative factors for Ryan in how he is perceived and his care.  The education for school, church, babysitting, etc is exhausting at times and people just need more of a general knowledge of the disease.

And we must educate so people quit saying rather harsh and ignorant things about diabetes in front of Ryan that not only are often wrong, but just flat rude to say in front of a child.

I have to take the time to plug about some of the myths of Type 1 Diabetes:

• Neither Ryan, nor Jason & I, did ANYTHING wrong for Ryan to get diabetes.  We could not prevent it, nor can we cure it.
• EVERYTHING Ryan eats, if it has carbohydrates at all, has to have insulin to match the carbs in order to stay healthy and well.
• If Ryan never had sugar again and exercised like a maniac, he could NOT get off insulin or be cured of his diabetes.
• Ryan can have candy, sweets, cake, ice cream, pizza, etc just like any other child/person.
• Ryan will NEVER outgrow his diabetes.
• Insulin keeps him alive . . . IT IS NOT A CURE.
• With Type 1 Diabetes, you canNOT ween yourself off insulin, your body produces no insulin, your body needs insulin to live; therefore, insulin is a MUST.

These are my top 7 biggest pet peeves about the PERCEPTION of Ryan’s disease. And since it is November is awareness month, I thought I would take the opportunity to throw that out there.

Off my soapbox and happily moving on . . .

I still am amazed at how many people turned their pictures “Diabetes Blue” on facebook in honor of Ryan for the month of November last year.  You will never know how much it encouraged me, but to see Ryan’s face light up like it did when I would show him friend’s pictures was priceless.

I will again be turning my profile pictures blue the whole month of November.  But this year, if you would like to get involved, I’m asking that you participate this way:

1)  Wear blue on Fridays.  Now some of you have different themes at your job and I get that.  But if you can, any or all Fridays in November, wear blue.  Take a pic and post it!

2)  Wear blue on November 14th, National Diabetes Day.  Take a pic and post it!

3)  Change your profile picture to blue on November 14th.

4)  Of course, if you like, keep your profile pic blue all month!!  ;)

Will your picture be on his collage?

Last year, I made a notebook full of encouragements for Ryan when we celebrated how fare we’d come on December 17, 2010.

This year, I’d like to make a collage for him of those who participate in blue for Diabetes Awareness Month and frame it for him on December 17, which will be his 2nd “dia-versary” (two years since diagnosis and we will celebrate how far we have come again).  If you change your profile pic to blue, I will probably “rip” it off facebook and print it to add to the collage.

But with all the November Blue-ness, I am asking that you always pray for Ryan and the family.  Diabetes is definitely a blessing in that it is a maintenance disease, it is not terminal, it is not physically crippling IF it is managed properly.  But with that said, it, again, is MAINTENANCE, constant and forever.  Sometimes it’s exhausting.  Sometimes it’s overwhelming.  Sometimes it just breaks your heart.  And prayers, I believe, are the key to the day in, day out regiment to it all.  And we so appreciate your prayers.

Remember:  November Blue for Ryan and diabetics all over the world!!

For Ryan

We moms can get so caught up in the dailies that we forget something very, VERY important – OURSELVES.  We get so busy with laundry, dishes, school, practices, homework, dinner, shopping, boo-boos, accidents, schedules, appointments, socials, church, work and everything else that we often forget to take time to simply take care of ourselves.  And then add D or any maintenance disease, condition or disorder and it’s doubly hard.   And so often the time in the day runs out before we even think of ourselves.

But the truth of the matter is that our families, friends and co-workers all depend on us taking care of ourselves.

And too often, we feel that making ourselves a priority or taking time for ourselves is taking away from our family or just flat being selfish.

But it isn’t . . .

And what happens, over time, is that we give and give, clean and go without sleep, throw our hair up, put sweats on with no make-up and totally forget to take care of the one that takes care of so much and so many . . . ME.

For several months, I have felt like poop.  It wouldn’t matter if I got a good night’s rest, if I grilled instead of fried, if I cut out responsibilities or activities to not be so busy, I still felt the same.  Used up and Run down.

I was failing.  I was frustrated.  I was fatigued.

And I was sad.

I was growing to like what I saw in the mirror less and less.

And not only was I cheating myself physically, it was beginning to take a mental toll.

So one Sunday, Jay and I had friends over for lunch that had just taken the Advocare 24-day challenge.  They both had lost weight and inches.  The both were feeling better and feeling more energetic.  And more importantly, they were developing new habits, good habits, habits I had gotten away from.

So that very next day, I ordered the products for Jay and me (supplements, good-for-you energy drinks, meal replacement shakes and the all important but awful herbal cleanse).

The 24-day Challenge looks basically like this:

• 10 days of cleanse – not fasting, but fruits, veggies, grilled non-fat chicken meats, no salt, no caffeine, no dairy and no bread – NO FUN
• 14 days of restoring your system and replenishing and boosting the good, working in to a normal diet
• 24 days of exercising 30 minutes a day (at least 5-6 times a week)
• 24 days of drinking 90-120 oz of water
• 24 days of learning how to eat and take care of your body again

A friend recently told me to be PROUD of my progress because I have worked so hard . . . so here you go!

But I’m not writing about that today.

I’m writing about a different acceptance.  Something that Ryan has accepted and I don’t think he even is consciously aware that he has.

Several weeks back, one of my besties, Jana, took Ethan to a Rangers game.  She LOVES baseball and the Rangers and got kickin’ tickets behind home plate and asked to take him.  He had a blast.

Well, the “Littles” (what I affectionately call Ryan and Aaron now graduating up from being the “Babies”), were not so happy.  They LOVE Ethan and it was a Friday night and they are accustomed to Friday nights being movie night in our house.  So, Jay and I decided to take them to GattiTown, a Chuck E. Cheese-like place.  I hate to go to places like that.  The ONLY one I remotely have ever enjoyed is Incredible Pizza.  But moving on . . .

While we were there, there was an older gentleman sitting outside the game room doing caricatures.  Jason and I had one done waaaaaaaayyyyyyy back before the boys were even a thought.  Jason loves them.  So, he wanted to have one done for Ryan and Aaron.

With the Dallas Mavericks winning the NBA Championship, the boys have gone Mavs crazy.  So they decided they wanted their bobble heads to be on the body of a Mavs player.  Aaron wanted #41 on his jersey, Dirk Nowitzki.  Here’s Aaron:

The hair and the eyes are great. He pudgy cheeks don't do him justice though

Ryan was up next.  He decided he wanted #31 on his jersey, Jason Terry.  He has come to like Terry because of his nickname “JET” (Jason Eugene Terry).  But Ryan likes his name because he has heard the story of the doctor who delivered Ryan said we should call him “Jet” because he was born on 7-27.  :)  Anyway, here is Ryan:

Do you notice anything about Ryan’s caricature?  Anything at all?

Notice his right hand.  Ryan wears a blue jelly snap on medical bracelet that appropriately says “Diabetes.”  As he was telling me what he wanted the artist to draw, he specifically asked,

Playing in our first good rain in forever. Notice his bracelet on the right hand (and his pod under the blue and black band on his left arm).

“Can he draw me with my diabetes bracelet on?”

“I’m sure he can,” I said calmly fighting back the tears.

“Good,” he said, “I always wear it.”

Jason walked up and I told him what Ryan had asked for.  I turned my back to Ryan unable to hold back the tears.   Jason attempting to comfort said he thought it was a good thing that he wanted to include it.  It’s a part of who he is and he’s accepting that.  AND . . . he’s not ashamed or embarrassed of it either.

It was a bittersweet moment for me.  Even now, writing it, there is a little lump in my throat.

But it is what it is and he’s accepted it.  I can’t change it, so what more could I ask for?

And as a blogger, I have a great venue . . . so here goes . . .

Last week, I got an email that Ryan was going to receive an award on Friday.  The “Sunshine Award” for all of 2nd Grade, not just his class.

When I walked in the building on Friday, his Kindergarten teacher was in the office while Ryan was dropping off his d-stuff at the nurses desk.  She stopped me and said, “I love Ryan.  Every time he sees me, he sneaks a hug.  I think we have a special relationship.”  It was all I could do not to cry.  And I reminded her that they, she and Ryan, do have a special relationship.  She made him feel safe at school when he was dx’d (mid-year his kindergarten year).

When the teacher, Aaron’s kindergarten teacher last year, was announcing the 2nd grade “Sunshine Award” she said that “this second grader is special to me because every time he sees me, he gives me a hug.”

And then when Ryan was called, over 500 students, I could see my little Aaron’s arms go straight in the air and his lips yelling, “That’s my brother!”

He just looks like sunshine, doesn't he?

Ryan jumped up and walked right up on the stage, took his certificate and held it up proudly.  He scanned in the back for me and Ethan, then smiled very big and waved.

And my heart about burst.

I do not love Ryan more than Ethan and Aaron.  Not one bit.  But sometimes when I see him and his successes, no matter how small, and his happiness, I can’t help but be overwhelmed with thankfulness that he is the child he is.  That he does not let the hard of d, steal his joy.

Ethan, when we got back in the truck to take him to school said, “I’m so happy for Ryan, Mom.  He so deserves stuff like that.”

How could I not be proud of these boys?

Oh, and one last thing, Ryan was voted President of his class on Monday too.

1. My God who listens to this all too often wayward heart, hears my cries, meets my needs and protects my family.
2. Jason.  My husband who loves me no matter what.  He is my best friend.  We dance through the minefields TOGETHER.
3. Ethan, my joy, my taller-than-me 12-year-old who still texts me every day at lunch and kisses every morning when he gets out of the truck.
4. Ryan, my miracle, my insulin-dependent brave child who does NOT let his body, the incessant numbers, get in the way of his being a little boy.
5. Aaron, my bonus, who introduces himself as such who makes me laugh when I need it the most and loves nothing more than to cuddle under a blanket.
6. My parents.  For their endless giving of unconditional love and their 40 year example of what a marriage is supposed to be through good times a bad.
7. My sister.  For not just being my sister but also being my friend who listens, loves and laughs with me through the toughest of times.
8. My in-laws.  For raising the love of my life and teaching him to be the hard-working provider, husband and dad that he is.
9. My husbands siblings and their families who have from day one embraced me as a sister and longs to keep me in the loop no matter the distance between.
10. My brother-in-law who loves and takes care of my sister and my nieces and keeps sending me invitations ever year to be part of his fantasy football league.
11. My church for embracing us when we needed it the very most.
12. My friends from my growing up years in Ft. Worth for standing beside me for 20+ years and showing a loyalty that I cannot comprehend.  You make me want to be a better friend.
13. Rekindled friendships.  Just yesterday, I reconnected with a precious mom and just listened.  It’s good to know that friendships that begins on prayer lasts a lifetime (love you J.L.).
14. For my Baltimore friends, my heart is always there with you.  Those who used to babysit me and saw the rotten p.k. I was and love me still as an adult.  You are the best.
15. For facebook.  I know, really, facebook?  YES, it’s allowed me to keep in touch with those mentioned above those relationships that are vital to me now.
16. For Ryan’s blood sugar average yesterday:  109 and 100% in range.  IT IS POSSIBLE.
17. For the elementary school that Ryan and Aaron attend and the ministry of that front office, nurse, teachers, administration and secretaries.  I could NOT have done these last two years without you.
18. For the VP at Ethan’s school who has creating a safe place and virtually hand-picked teachers for him this year that he might not only have a better year, but thrive in it.
19. For adopted family, you know who you are, that I do not go to church with anymore but love me just the same.
20. For forgiveness.  God’s and from loved ones and friends who love me in spite of my constant failures and shortcomings and allow me to be who I am, flaws and all.
21. For my D-MOMS.  What in the world would I do without you?  The laughter, the empathy, the same-same . . . it is invaluable and a God-send for sure.
22. For insulin pumps, in particular, for us, the OmniPod.  Technology that gives freedom, flexibility and tighter control so I might keep my Ryan happier and healthier.
23. For a cooler day like today and rain in the forecast.
24. For dark chocolate and white chocolate mocha lattes.
25. For music that gives voice and words to my deepest feelings and touches my heart.

But then it hit me, although it did not change my opinion on current events in school, that I don’t have to wait for the school to teach, I CAN . . . JASON AND I CAN as their parents.

So, this past weekend was full of history and education in the Lederer home.  The 10th anniversary of 9/11.  It still makes my heart ache.  I can still recall the fear that I had that day.  I held Jason a little tighter than night, loved on Ethan a little more (then two) and prayed like never before for God to protect our country.  The tragedy.  Watching those two majestic buildings collapse. Our President’s declaration of war.  The resolve of the American people.  The heroism of the first responders.  The sacrifice of the lives on Flight 93 . . . oh, the countless lives they saved taking over that plane.   It was the saddest day in America that I can recall in my lifetime.

And as the specials on television and the media and the conversations surrounding the weekend, the boys began to ask questions.  Now, Ryan and Aaron are a bit young.  And I struggled with what they should see and how much they should know.  But the bottom line is, it is our history.  And if I don’t tell them and they hear from somewhere else, they might not trust what I say later when they ask.

So, I got out my laptop and with them hunched all around me, we watched video after video of that fateful day.  Questions like, “Why didn’t the tower just fall over on it’s side?” And “Were their kids who had parents die?”  And “What did we do to fight back?”  And “Were you afraid, Mom?”  But my favorite question came from Aaron, “Mom, Did this happen in your lifetime?”  I almost giggled, but just said, “Yes, it happened in Ethan’s lifetime.  He was two.”  The expression on his face, the amazement, the bewilderment.  I tried to get him to tell me what he was thinking in that very moment.  Almost like he could dismiss it if it wasn’t.  I’m sure he remembers Ryan asking the same question about Pearl Harbor when we watched a movie about that several months ago on Memorial Day.

But it was good education.  I wanted most to teach them about heroism.  American strength.  About how blessed we are to live here.  And to grow some patriotism within them.  And I want them to grow up KNOWING our country’s history, not just passively listening to it.

Found on every jersey in the NFL on Sunday

But Sunday was full of a “healthy” balance of Remembrance and FOOTBALL.  We would flip back and forth between 9/11 memorial services and appreciating that the NFL was actually having a season.  But we watched both opening ceremonies of the Giants and Jets games.  During the Giants, when they were pulling that beautifully spectacular American flag the length and width of the football field and watching NFL players remove their helmets and meaningfully grab a hold of that flag with the respect it deserved, I noticed briefly the camera on a first-responder who could not control his emotions, I am sure recalling that day, and wept uncontrollably.  My heart ached for him and thousands of others.

In it all, I felt proud.  Proud of my country.  Moved by the memorials, such beautiful, respectful places for families to come and grieve and for people like me, not directly effected with the loss of a family member or co-worker, to visit and pay respects to those innocent Americans who died.

So why am I blogging about this on my diabetes blog?

Sunday night, when Jason was putting the boys to bed and praying with them, Ryan set his phone (one that does not have service but will take pics, play sounds and has an alarm) for 6am.  Jason reminded him he did not have to get up until 6:15-6:20.  He said, “I want to get up and read my Bible every morning.”  Jason poking a little bit asked why.  Ryan’s response, “Because you never know what will happen.”

And that’s all he said.  Jason seems to think that all the 9/11 talk made him think.  I immediately asked him if he was scared ready to fly up those stairs and bring him down with me.  Jason was sure he was not afraid.  Almost the opposite.  And he thought he just wanted to be prepared.  And in that 7-year-old mind, reading the Bible did that for him.

Reading the Bible in my closet at 6a

And this was his third morning to get up at 6am and read.

But I wonder . . . a child that has to deal with a disease, particularly something that is scary or hard or HIGH MAINTENANCE, do they grow up and mature a little quicker than most.  We see it happen through circumstances too, like children who lost parents on 9/11 or through tragedy.  A child growing up too quickly or quicker than we would like happens for many different reasons.  But Ryan was already beyond his years pre-dx.  Very mature.  Scarily mature.  And conscious about everything.  Ethan is typically the same, taking on more responsibility than required in certain situations.

But Ryan has acted in a way that gives him comfort in what God has to say about life through Scripture.

Making me proud.  Making me take a second look at my life.  Where do I go for comfort when the “You never know . . . ” invades me heart, my mind, my spirit or your circumstances?

He goes to The Word.  I don’t know how long it will last.  I will not pressure or make him continue at seven-years-old . . .  but I will encourage and tell him how proud I am and engage and ask if he has any questions and take the opportunity to talk to him about who God is.  He will have questions in his life not just about his body and diabetes, but just about life that is hard, doesn’t make sense so much of the time and as he sees and experiences life’s hardships.

How are you preparing for that tragedy or hardship or trial in your life?  Are you preparing?  Ryan is.  And I must be ever reminded to follow in his footsteps.

Stong, Determined and Focused Ryan

Diabetes is a disease, an autoimmune disease, a 24/7/365 autoimmune disease that is extremely high maintanance.  You all, d or not, who read my blog, know so many of the details about every bite being counted, every minute of activity being considered, stubborn highs, fighting lows, etc, etc, etc.

These things are factual.  These facts cannot and will not change for Ryan for all of his life until a cure is found.

But it does not define Ryan, who we are as parents or who we are as the Lederer5.

So with that said, we do not want your pity.

I started blogging for therapeutic reasons.  I needed a place of release.  A place to be heard.  To be understood.

Then I started meeting other bloggers and other d-moms.  I became part of a community where people just “get it” because they live it too.  And I shared and still share some of the hard times, vent problems and solicit suggestions/help.

As readership grew, it dawned on me that I could also be an educator.  Diabetes is so misunderstood.  And Type 1 Diabetics and parents (if the diabetic is still in parental care) live with a sort of diabetic stigma and judgment assuming we have done something wrong.  If we had only fed them better or made them exercise more, we wouldn’t be in this place.  And if we would start to do that now, we wouldn’t need insulin.  THAT’S SIMPLY NOT THE CASE.

But I touch on those handful of things we deal with on a daily basis, all of which could have books written on them, to lead you into why I, we, do NOT want your pity.

And understandably so, if I could place myself on the outside looking in, when people hear of Ryan being an insulin dependent diabetic, feel it right to pity.  And I also understand the confusion when it’s offensive, and they don’t understand why that four letter word puts us on the defensive so quickly when we share our plight.

Pity, in it’s rawest definition,  is “sympathetic or kindly sorrow evoked by the suffering, distress, or misfortune of another leading one to give relief or aid or to show mercy” (1st definition at dictionary.com).  And this is not offensive when you look at it this way.

But pity, like so many words in our rich, beautiful language, has a negative connotation.

I don’t know of anyone who wants to be pitied.

My mind goes back to the 80s and I can hear Mr. T saying with his finger-pointing, mohawk touting, gold dripping self, “I pity the fool . . . “

But in all seriousness.  Pity has a negative shadow.  It says your situation/circumstances define you.  It points out unavoidable limitations.  It has an emotional disconnect.  It discounts the rest of your person and highlights only the negative challenge.  And often, it offers no understanding, no genuine compassion and no help.

This certainly does not only apply to diabetes, but any life challenge that someone may encounter whether other disease, sickness, financial challenge, family dysfunction, economic status, victims of any situation, etc.  No one would choose for their person to be defined or judged by the circumstances in their life that are out of your control.

One of my most fav d-mommas, my Chicago T,  recently shared her answer or response to people when they pity her and/or her daughter in dealing with diabetes.  She simply replies, “It’s our ‘something’.  Everyone has ‘something’ and ours is diabetes.”

Don’t you just LOVE that?

That keeps the pity away.  That keeps people from comparing their ‘something’ with ours (And you know what I mean here, right?!?  We should NEVER compare heartaches or life challenges.  We should NEVER think that our hurt is greater than someone else’s and minimize someone else’s pain).  That keeps it all in perspective and brings us back to that place where all things are relative.

Ryan is too young to understand pity and its negative connotations.  But let me briefly share with you about Ryan.  Diabetes does NOT define Ryan.  Ryan has diabetes and must be considered when caring for Ryan but diabetes does not HAVE Ryan.  He knows no limitations because of diabetes, not with food (yes, he can still have sugar and sweets and cupcakes and candy, but in moderation as you would do for any child and with insulin), not with activity, not with learning, not with anything.  He may have to work a little harder than “the average bear” to make sure his sugar doesn’t go too high or too low, but there are no limitations.  Prior to Ryan’s dx when he was only five, we noticed characteristics in him like determination, structured, meticulous, conscientious, strong, driven and courageous.  And diabetes has only heightened these character traits.  There is so much more to Ryan that diabetes.  He is a great reader.  He is super smart.  He has a great, sarcastic sense of humor.  He is full of energy.  He is happy.  He is a people-pleaser.  He is loving and lovable.

And why do I tell you all that (and I could go on and on and on)?  Because pity discounts all of that and only focuses on the challenge, the hard – the diabetes.

There is so much more to Ryan than diabetes.

There is so much more than diabetes to me, as his mom, too.  My life is not over.  Our family is not doomed.  Life is still good.  I may be frustrated because it’s hard.  I may be tired because I can’t figure out what’s going on with all the variables and have to check him or treat a low or fight a high all night.  I may be weary of how demanding it is or the simple truth that it does not go away or he does not grow out of it.  I may be heart-broken at times because in my mind, he’s my child, it’s so much for a seven-year old to bear. But I want you to know I do not want your pity.

Rather, I want your compassion.  I want your understanding.  I want you to be educated before you form an opinion.  Compassion and pity have the same raw definitions.  But compassion has heart.  Compassion is enveloped in emotion.  Compassion offers help when it’s appropriate.  Compassion sees the child beyond the disease.

Pity sees diabetes.  Compassion sees Ryan.

And why am I tired?

Diabetes.  We have fought too many lows (nothing severe, in the 60s and 70s) in the last several weeks.  Mostly during the day.  And I have been patient with that particularly last week with it being the first week of school to see what Ryan’s little body is going to do once he gets settled and adjusted to the school year and in a good routine.  But the last two nights, particularly last night, the lows have creeped in after dark too.

He was 82 going to bed Sunday night and he was 77 going to bed last night.  Sunday night, I just gave him a gogurt and treated as a low and checked him once in the night after his sugar went up over 120ish.  But last night, it was beastly.  I brought him downstairs to sleep on the loveseat in my bedroom because of the 77.  He had an uncovered 16 carb snack and went on to sleep.  When I checked him when I went to bed, he was only 86.  I gave him a gogurt and checked him an hour later.  He was JUST 100.  Now, on a typical day or night, giving him an uncovered gogurt would shoot him up about 60 or so points.  So, I backed off 25% on basals for three hours and checked him in two.  88.  I canceled that temporary basal and set a new on backing off by 30% until 6am.  Checking him again in about an hour.  Still under 100.  Juice ensued then.  Shoot that blood sugar sky high was the thought.  At 6am, he was 125.  Now I realize 125 is a good number, but he was short at least a quarter of his basal insulin all night long!

So, what’s going on?

He is getting less exercise being in school.  But we are eating better too – healthier.  Grilled dinners a lot and veggies and fruit more taking out fried and potatoes most nights and very little pasta (which I miss terribly).  Maybe diet in of itself is the difference.  Any suggestions, d-mommas?

Also, the last few days, Ryan has been very anxious.  Now, for those of you who read my blog, he has super support at school.  An ideal situation.  But why the anxiety?  The last two nights he has either come downstairs after bed or right before bed come to me and expressed anxiety.  He approaches very sheepishly, pulling nervously on his shirt and says things like, “I feel like I should be telling you something and I don’t know what it is,” or “I’m not keeping secrets from you but I feel like I am.”  THAT I cannot stand.  He keeps going over and over a little situation at school where he went in at recess to fill up someone’s thermos bottle and a teacher asked him what he was doing and he told her he was filling it with water, then decided to throw it away.  ???

Ryan is a pleaser.  If he thought that teacher frowned on what he was doing or thought he was up to any mischief, it would kill him.  But I keep telling him that wasn’t a big deal.  That he is ok.  And then I ask questions about the teacher being mean.  He insists not.

So my question:   Would his numbers trending lower . . . between 65 and 100 consistently for several days give him the jittery feeling of lows?

I love the idea that we would hit an A1c record low if this continues, but at what cost?  I’m ready to jack up his target numbers and lower his basals to have him run between 150-180 and see if it helps his nerves.  Does that sound insane?

Looking for a little d-momma input.

Short and sweet today.  Lots to do on this RAINY (woo hoo!!!) Monday morning.

But I have to share this email and how prayer and a great school and God’s weaving that two families who have been struck by a disease can find help and encouragement in each other.

We were not made to be an island unto ourselves.  Isolation, whether from a business standpoint, socially, spiritually or through tragedy, we were made to need each other.  And I find it amazing how our own tragedies or struggles or hardships can be used to help others in the same or similar place if we just open our eyes and allow our experiences to be used in a positive way.

And email exchange from Friday between Mrs. M, Ryan’s teacher, and me:

I went upstairs to wake the boys for school at 6:15a.  I am NOT a morning person.  I wish school started at 10a and went until 4p.  That would be perfect for this momma.  But I went up, eyes half-open, not even brushed my teeth yet and to my surprise, Ryan and Aaron were up, had brushed their teeth and were almost dressed.  I laughed and asked what was going on and Ryan said he set the alarm and got up at 6:00 pm their own.

I looked over at the bunk bed that sleeps three (full on the bottom and twin on the top) and Ethan had slept on the top bunk but at some point had crawled onto the bottom and was still sleeping.  He looked so warm and comfortable and cozy, I just couldn’t resist.  So I crawled into bed next to him and snuggled up and closed my eyes.

I felt eyes like a laser peering through my brain like a super power that made me feel weird, and I opened my eyes to see Aaron, who is NOT a morning person and has gotten progressively more sleepy though this first week of school, staring at me, coveting my cuddle with Ethan and so sad as if I was taunting him with my spontaneous morning rest.

It broke my heart.  I said, “Aaron, do you want to get back into bed.”  And in a cry-like voice he simply replied, “Yeahhh.”  I did what any mom would do, I lifted the covers, patted the bed, and motioned for him to come and cuddle.  His eye lit up and moved with grease-lightening speed and nuzzled in like a puppy with a new blanket.

My eyes shifted to Ryan who was perplexed for a moment and then said, “Can I come too?”  And I grinned and said, “Absolutely” pushing my oldest over who was a tad annoyed that his sleep was being interrupted (he doesn’t have to get up until 7ish, later school start time).

Me and My Blessings

And there we were.  All four in a full-size bed.  Lying there perfectly still with the lights on and our eyes closed.  And it was heaven.

After a few minutes, Ryan, my time conscious freak of a child said, “Mom, we’re going to be late.”

And we laid there for a few more.

The boys weren’t tardy for the school bell, but we were a little late in our morning process that hasn’t quite been nailed down yet this year.

It was just a few minutes.  It caused Ryan to leave without his pdm and his morning snack that I had to run back up to school, but it was worth it.  We had a moment.  A lazy one.  And it was stolen.  But it was precious.

AND.I.AM.THANKFUL.