Why 30 minutes?

When the movie Steel Magnolias came out, I loved it. (If you haven't seen it, then this probably won't make much sense to you, and you are clearly missing out on a HUGE part of American culture. Put it on your weekend "to do" list!) Not only was it set in the South, but it had such intriguing characters and great one-liners! When I married my husband, I even tried to get a bleeding armadillo groom's cake! So when our daughter was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes, memories from Steel Magnolias flashed through my mind, and I was terrified that my daughter would suffer Shelby's fate. Thankfully, treatments for type 1 diabetes have come a long way since the 1980s, and while there is still no cure, there is more hope. Managing a life-threatening disease, however, is still a daunting daily task. It's difficult to live a "normal" life while constantly on a roller coaster that might end in disaster at any moment. But I refuse to let diabetes or anything else ruin what God has intended to be a joyful life. As Shelby says, "I would rather have thirty minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special."

Oh, confusion...

I started blogging a few years ago, but didn't really keep up with it. Now I want to revive the idea, but I need to associate my old posts with my new email account. So if this works, no problem. But we'll see about that!!

I've Been Dumped.

Maddie is at camp this week. Some other time, I'll tell all about what a true Act of God that is, but for now, I just want to write about being dumped. Believe it or not, camp and being dumped DO belong together.

Maddie is twelve years old, and though this is not her first time to go to camp, it's her first time to be there for this long. Many of the parents visit mid-way through, and Maddie had asked me to come, so I drove down to the camp to have dinner and spend a little time with her tonight.

When I arrived, the kids were standing in line, waiting for the cafeteria to open. Maddie waved me over, hugged me tightly, and promptly began begging me to stay for the night: "Please, please, please" she pleaded, giving me her best puppy-dog face. I really was caught off-guard by that, because she'd seemed so independent lately. She spends most of her time at home by herself in her room. She counted down the days until camp, packed for herself (and left nothing out!), and barely even seemed to care when I said good-bye on drop-off day. Now she was begging me to spend the night: "There's one more bunk left in our cabin - you can sleep there!"

Wondering what prompted all this, I simply told her that I hadn't come prepared to spend the night, but we could at least enjoy the next few hours together. Then I quickly changed the subject to get her mind off of the begging. I used this "diversion tactic" when she was a toddler, and now that she's an adolescent I've had to take it out of the back of my tool box, dust it off, and use it again. It has been especially handy when she's having a diabetic low and becomes insistent about... well, anything, really. Thank God, diversion is like riding a bike: you never really forget how to do it. "So, does EVERYONE have feathers and neon colors in their hair this summer?" I asked. Worked like a charm.

So we waited in line and talked about camp. The line moved at blinding speed... for a snail... until we finally entered the cafeteria, where the air conditioning hit us just moments before the familiar smell of cafeteria food. You know the stuff: breaded chicken breast patties that have been pulverized until they're so flat that cooking them ensures not a drop of moisture remains... runny mashed "potatoes" that we all know started out as some kind of powder in a box (and are you SURE those black specks are flecks of pepper?)... and the saving grace, a piece of chocolate cake: a sign that someone really does care. As Maddie recited a litany of all the injuries and illnesses experienced at camp so far, the familiar faces of other parents and youth workers occasionally passed by, and we nodded our greetings. One even enthusiastically announced that I’d come on the right evening for dinner: “This is the GOOD meal of the week. We had mystery meat on Monday!”

Then, Maddie had a low. She had a 48, the lowest number I’ve seen in months. Amazingly, she was coherent throughout, and though she fumbled with her supplies a bit, she was able to eat two packages of Smartees and raise her blood sugar up to 84 in just ten minutes. We got our lunch trays and found some seats in the cafeteria.

Do you know how LOUD a cafeteria is when it’s full of boys and girls between the ages of 8 and 13? Maddie didn’t seem to mind, and that’s what mattered to me. We figured up Maddie’s carbs and pumped her insulin while discussing the various colors of tee shirts campers are to wear from day to day.  Then we poured our cups into the bucket, put our forks into the basket, and handed our trays to a young man who dumped their contents into a trash can and banged them against it until everything (except the mashed “potatoes”) was gone. Now we had some free time, so we headed back to the girls’ cabin, where several of the girls were already hanging out.

Have you ever heard of a “poot war”? Unfortunately, I have. I don’t think I’ll bother going into any detail on that one… Suffice it to say, Maddie was busily engaged with her friends in an activity that I could/would not join. I sat on an ice chest and visited with another mom until it was time for the worship service.

We all filed into the tabernacle and looked for seats. Surprisingly, Maddie didn’t try to sit with the other girls; she asked me to follow her up toward the front, and we sat in the midst of strangers in the third row. We sang worship songs, watched a skit, and listened to the pastor talk about God’s power to do the impossible in our lives. I thought about how much I’m depending on that power to get us through learning to manage Maddie’s diabetes at all, and especially during puberty. As if adolescence weren’t hard enough, let’s add a life-threatening disease into the mix that is completely aggravated by hormonal imbalances! Yes, that pastor was speaking to ME as much as he was to the kids.

When the service was over, Maddie grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the concession stand. “We have to hurry! There’s gonna be a line!” We bought Skittles and a diet Dr Pepper and headed toward the cafeteria to wait for craft time and eat our snacks in the air conditioning. As we approached, some of Maddie’s friends came out of the cafeteria toward us. The conversation went something like this:

Maddie: “Hey, where are you going?”

Friend: “The craft they’re doing tonight is Frisbees. I don’t want to do Frisbees, so I’m just going to walk around.” Other friends nod in agreement.

Maddie: “Frisbees? Ugh.”

Friend: “Want to come walk around with us?”

Maddie (looking at me and our snacks): “Well, we were going to eat our snacks in the cafeteria in the air conditioning…”

Friend: “Okay, see you later.” (They begin walking away.)

Maddie: “Wait!” (She looks at me.) “Do you want to go walk around with them?”

I could tell that she wanted to walk with her friends, but she didn’t want to abandon me, so she was trying to find a compromise. I let her off the hook: “You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to let you go walk with your friends, and I’m going to head on back home.” And there wasn’t a drop of sarcasm!

Maddie smiled and said, “Okay, but first…” and then she hugged me, kissed me, and did our Eskimo/butterfly kisses, the way we do every night at bedtime. Then she ran off… and returned to do another set of hugs and kisses. “That one is for Daddy,” she called out as she ran off again to catch up to her friends.

My daughter is an adolescent, vacillating between hugging stuffed animals and wearing makeup. She’s ambivalent about boys, school, and hygiene. One minute she wants to hang out with me, and the next she wants to hang out with her friends. And that’s just what she should be right now. I’ve never been so happy to get dumped.

More Bang for My Buck!

My friend, Kelli Hays, is "one of those" moms.... a true wonder woman! She has three wonderful young children (one with special needs), she's a preacher's wife helping start a brand-new church in inner-city Houston, and now she's blogging. I wanna be like her when I grow up. Well, her blog is called "More Bang for your Bucks," and I'm adding it to my list - because I definitely need to save money! Check her out and save money, too!

http://morebangforyourbucks.blogspot.com/

Born This Way

Even though I don't listen to secular radio stations, Lady Gaga's song "Born This Way" has managed to penetrate my shields and make an impression on me. I don't agree with everything in it, but I can't deny that it contains some good messages. So now, when I think about who I am and how I'm "wired," that song pops into my head, which is why I've used it as my title.

From childhood, certain characteristics have always been evident in me: strong desire to do what's right, strong interest in learning the truth, inability to make decisions until I feel confident that I have researched all possible options, awareness of the difference between my own standards and those of the world, etc.

When adolescence hit, I was conflicted, because like most kids I desperately wanted peer approval but couldn't manage to do what it took to get it. Eventually I discovered that ALL my peers were struggling for that same approval, even the ones I thought HAD it, and I stopped trying so desperately to get it. I became more self confident and willing to stick out as "odd" if that's what it took to stick to my own standards. Then, the only battle was determining what my standards should be. I believed in Absolute Truth, so I focused on applying that to my daily life.

Meanwhile, I spent some time offending others with my stubbornness about being "right." It took a while before I recognized that self-righteousness was NOT a characteristic I wanted. Not only does it hurt others, it doesn't fit into my value system. Once I determined THAT, I began working on maintaining relationships in spite of differences in value systems. Most of my teen and early adult years were spent in this stage of moral development.

First, I adopted this popular perspective: whatever works for you is right for you, and whatever works for me is right for me. This seemed perfect, because it relieved me of the responsibility of correcting others. (I might have remained in this state indefinitely, but I could not reconcile it with Absolute Truth. That's a topic for another blog...) To avoid being self-righteous and offending people, I just tried to keep silent most of the time.

Eventually, I even began to suppress my personal characteristics - unsuccessfully, but I did try. For the past twenty years, I have gained a reputation among my family, friends, and colleagues (even among different communities) for being a research junkie. And like any junkie, it really is an addiction. When I wonder something, I can hardly stop myself from "Googling" it, and I usually have a well-researched answer within minutes. It takes tremendous self-control NOT to follow my curiosity from topic to topic, surfing the web into the wee hours of the morning until my brain can function no longer due to sleep deprivation. Only my greater sense of obligation to my family and my job have kept me from doing this on a regular basis - I have to just force myself to stop.

So you can imagine my surprise when the Author of Absolute Truth allowed my daughter to be diagnosed with Type One Diabetes. Lo and behold, this disease is best fought by someone who researches and becomes an expert on the patient's own unique case. My greatest obligation - to care for my daughter - is best met by the use of my innate determination to learn the facts. I'm going to embrace that and fight this diabetes demon to the end!

So there you have it. That's why I keep thinking of the lyrics in Lady Gaga's song:

There's nothin' wrong with lovin' who you are
She said, 'cause He made you perfect, babe
So hold your head up, girl and you'll go far
Listen to me when I say
I'm beautiful in my way
'Cause God makes no mistakes
I'm on the right track, baby
I was born this way
Don't hide yourself in regret,
Just love yourself and you're set
I'm on the right track, baby
I was born this way, yeah!

It's here!! It's finally here!! Now what??

Maddie's insulin pump arrived in the mail yesterday, and our whole family is so excited! We are really looking forward to being able to manage her blood sugars more effectively - and who doesn't love a new gadget?! So it may come as a surprise that I didn't tear into the box as soon as I received it. Instead, I hid it under my desk until school ended without even telling Maddie about it. That wasn't easy, mind you: the box is about the size of one of those plastic tubs that people use to store Christmas decorations in the attic. But I have a reason for keeping it on the down-low: something THIS IMPORTANT must be handled properly. You don't just go digging around in the box and playing with the contents all willy-nilly, because you could really mess things up! I need time to see what instructions are in the box and to follow them to the "T." And I know that Maddie (and Kirk) will pressure me to rush through that process as soon as they find out the box is here.

Duck on a June Bug

Where did that expression come from? "She was all over that like a duck on a June bug." Well, I don't know the origins of the expression (though it would be fun to research), but it sure does describe me at times. I get so involved in an activity that I lose track of time, and when I look up there are all kinds of responsibilities I've neglected. My family is hungry, they need clean clothes, and this house isn't cleaning itself.