September DSMA Blog Carnival Entry
To read more entries in this blog carnival, click here.
If I didn’t laugh about life with diabetes and twins, then I would be like a chicken with her head cut off.
Seriously! I grew up surrounded by four younger siblings. So I’m used to dodging toys on the floor, building tents out of blankets, child versions of recipes that for some reason include grass, “cologne” made of pine needles, my stuff “magically” disappearing, the house rarely quiet, and of course, the sense that in my own home, I could never be alone. But, having siblings and having kids that rely on me are two VERY different things.
Today, I step over the Legos to prepare breakfast for the kids as they were carrying out a tug of war with a blanket. Eventually one let go and the other is sent flying into the wall. That was Henri and he is what I like to call compact and strappy because he falls, flips, rolls, and nothing ever seems to slow him down. He bounces really well. Henri doesn’t like being thrown into the wall and takes off running and in a move that would impress any NFL player, he soars through the air to tackle his sister, his little arms ready to get around her. Really? We’re tackling now? Not in my house! I intercept this and put my arms around Henri until he stops squirming and the aggression dissipates. Aurora looks at him as if to say, “haha, mommy stopped you!” and then she prances along her way, as usual.
I’m explaining to Henri that we don’t tackle one another when Aurora happily pops out of the kitchen with the sharp cooking shears. She points them forward while closing and opening them and smiling. It almost looks like a scene from a horror movie. I run and intercept that disaster and hide the shears out of reach. I didn’t know they could reach those drawers. I am suddenly well aware of all the “weapons” the kitchen is equipped with.
I look over at the kids to find them side by side with their arms around each other, smiling. “Awww you guys that’s more like it!” Then I look over on the floor and see a few of my favorite books from the bookcase, with shreds of paper all around. “Ughhh”. Henri jumps into action and helps me pick up the pieces of paper. I wonder if this may be a sign of guilt… “Thank you, son”. Aurora surprises me and picks a few pieces up, too but then, while spinning around, throws them up into the air and laughs. I go on about how we treat books carefully and gently when I notice Henri grabbing the large wooden table top cover that belongs to their play table and resting it against the couch. Then he slides down. And guess who wants to join him? Only, their combined weight of over 60 pounds is too much for this table top so I try to take it away before it snaps. This results in me having a child wrapped around each one of my legs in protest.
Then I remember how I gave insulin for breakfast 20 minutes ago. This is when I feel a low coming on. This is when I laugh to myself as I walk like a lead footed zombie while dragging two heavy toddlers over to the kitchen where I grab some glucose tablets. A little later the house is quiet and they’re playing with Legos. I laugh again because this peaceful moment and my blood sugar holding steady at 98 will probably last all of five more minutes.