Tag Archives: diabetes and parenting

The Girl Who Bites Her Nails

Pic courtesy of Salvatore Vuono


I’ve been the anxious type for as long as I can remember.  Elementary School was rough.  Just speaking in front of the class felt like a heart attack.  The anxiety would come and go depending on what went on in school and in life.  It definitely shot up in social situations.  And yet I still put myself out there and overcame the anxiety and “shyness”.  I’m proud of myself for that.  I have spoken in public numerous times and enjoyed it so much, despite the intense underlying nervousness.

11 Years ago I started suffering panic attacks.  I got rid of the imbalance with changes in my life such as more exercise, less coffee, healthier relationships, better blood sugar control, and more positive thinking.  Granted it took years, a job change, and a change of a significant other…The funny thing is I’m fine. I mean, I think and feel happy only I’m physically feeling the overwhelming symptoms of anxiety. It’s a strange thing, it’s as if my body isn’t communicating with my brain or something.

Since the birth of my twins, I have gone into worry mode much more.  I also haven’t left the house much in two years.  As a result I find I’m going backwards in my social comforts.  For example, when I went to the Diabetes Sisters Conference in April, I suddenly experienced extreme anxiety.  My blood sugars shot up to 300 and stayed there the entire weekend.  I have been 300 a handful of times in the past year so to stay there for two days meant something was up.  I realized the second day of the conference that it was due to my anxiety.  My heart was racing, I couldn’t sleep, I was nauseated, and I spoke to everyone awfully fast.  I wasn’t miserable at the conference, I was thoroughly enjoying myself!  And yet I still felt this way.

The feeling of anxiety has lingered since.  In the past two weeks I’ve had a few panic attacks.  Mild ones, but ugly none the less.  Usually the anxiety builds up when my twin two year olds are crying at the same time.  My skin feels tingly and I go into this “make it stop, make it stop, make it stop” mode.  I’ve felt this a lot during the past two years because I’ve been around my kids about 98% of their waking moments and I’m hyper sensitive to their crying.  Or maybe it’s just that their crying is so loud when they’re in sync.  I know it’s natural for babies to whine and cry but it drives me bananas after a while.  You’d think motherhood would come naturally to mothers and yet I feel clueless lol!  I might even feel like an utterly inadequate mom, which I know is silly but while vulnerable the thought does enter my mind.

I feel like someone is stepping on my chest, not letting me breathe.  I feel like I’m not able to exercise efficiently because of that, too.  I’ve been here before and the diabetes certainly aggravates it but at least I know it’s not a permanent situation.  I don’t go out around people much and so when I do I internally freak out.  If you met me in person you probably wouldn’t notice anything abnormal.  I am friendly and chatty and I don’t appear anxious-au contraire, I seem relaxed.  The thing is, on the inside I feel completely frazzled and my nails are bitten down to the bare minimum. 

Soon, the kids will grow out of the difficult stage they’re in where we feel we can’t take them anywhere and where all the fun activities out there seem to be for ages 3+.  We go to parks and more parks and I’m allergic to the outdoors so that’s rather tiring.  Eventually we’ll be able to leave the house during the day and be out about in the world more.  I’ll find it easier to trust others to watch my kids.  (I’m paranoid because of my daughter’s severe peanut and egg allergies and the way she puts everything in her mouth) 

In the meantime I’m debating seeking help over doing what I’ve always done which is hold on for the ride a little longer and work to maintain blood sugars, exercise, and diet so that I can come back to a healthy place again. 

It’s hard feeling this way but I’m not ashamed (and neither should you if this sounds familiar).  It’s hard to have type 1!  And have little twins and one of them not be able to touch surfaces or eat foods without fear of exposure.  It’s hard to be “shy” and to be stuck at home all day and to do it all while living paycheck to paycheck.  We’ve never fully recovered from my quitting my job to stay home with the kids and my husband being laid off for 8 months.  That swallows up a just married and honeymooned couple’s little bank account real fast.

I’ve overcome this many times before and will just have to dust myself off and do it again.  And laugh.  I laugh a lot.  Sometimes like the joker but never the less Winking smile

Got any anxiety busting tips for me?

Help Me If You Can I’m Feelin’ Down

“Words of Wisdom” by Ana Morales


In the past two years since my twins were born, I honestly have endured many moments where I can’t decide which is harder to have:  diabetes or young twins.  That probably sounds crazy to someone with type 1 diabetes.  And perhaps crazy for someone with young children.  I’m the oldest of six children, five of which are alive, and so I’m no stranger to how wild a household with multiple young children can be.  And yet, nothing could have ever prepared me for what having twins is like. 

Part of what is hard about diabetes is that the overwhelming majority of the population doesn’t know what it’s like to have type 1 diabetes.  Same with twins.  The overwhelming majority of the population doesn’t know what having twins is like.  And if they do, a large percentage of the parents both work.  And there is a difference in spending 12 hours a day with your kids versus 4.  There just is.  And then how many parents of twins have type 1 diabetes?  I feel like no one out there could really understand what I go through.  And that’s ok except sometimes I feel like it’s not possible to do simply because I don’t know anyone who has done it.  Sound familiar? 

Before 6am today I was already up for three hours in the middle of the night with my twins.  First, Aurora because she woke up hysterical, seemingly frightened by sleeping in a toddler bed for the first time since we tried it a few months ago.  I had to hold her for 2 hours.  The first hour was non stop screaming and my husband and I went back and forth about whether she was in pain or just scared.  When I did go back to bed around 2am I was 125.  I didn’t think about how holding a 30 pound child while standing for an hour was a workout.  I woke up low right after my husband left early for work at 5am.  I then heard Aurora crying again.  And then my Henri.  “Uh oh”, I thought, I never know how to handle the two at the same time.  Two at the same developmental stage, two that are still very much babies, despite being toddlers.  Two that are 28 and 30 pounds each.  Two that both want to be held when they’re crying.  Two that don’t fit in my arms at the same time.  Two that don’t want to share me, anyway. 

I grab my glucose tablets and run to their bedroom.  Henri is on the floor crying and Aurora is at the window, screaming.  I try to put Henri back in bed because he falls asleep the easiest.  I hold Aurora while rubbing Henri’s back.  For some reason Aurora runs crying into the living room.  Henri falls off his bed in a fit of fury and goes hysterical.  He does this thing in the middle of a tantrum where he bangs his head on any hard surface around.  I try to cushion the blow and talk him into calming down.  In the meantime Aurora is getting more and more upset being all alone in our living room.  I think, “Oh dear God, I’m not gonna make it”  The entire time, I’m munching on glucose tablets, trying to muster up strength to control Henri, who is still in the middle of a trantrum. 

Suddenly, he gets up and runs to the living room.  Only he is still crying.  I catch a glimpse of his mouth and realize he has a glucose tablet.  I must have dropped one when fumbling to get them out of the container and hold two babies at once.  I try to calm him down so he doesn’t choke on one of the most perfect choking hazards out there.  The shape and texture of the glucose tablet is just perfect for choking, geez.  Of course, Henri starts choking.  My heart and breathing both stop as I grab my scared little guy and hold him face down over my hand like a football and then slam my open palm into the center of his back.  It doesn’t work.  He starts turning purple and for a second I think, “Oh my God, I need to call for help!”  and then I realize there is NO one here to help me and no time to call for help, I have to take care of this.  So I continue the only maneuver I know to do and finally the glucose tablet flies across the room.  Guess who goes after it?  Aurora does, of course.  Remember, she is at the same level as Henri, wanting to put everything in her mouth.  So I have to run over and stop her from putting it in her mouth, which causes her to go into fit mode. 

By now it’s just hit me that Henri could have choked to death all because of my diabetes, essentially, and I break down into tears.  Both my kids are hysterical and on the ground, they’re tired and just want someone to hold them.  I am crying so hard I can’t see out of my glasses and I can’t see without them so I just lay on the floor.  They lay on the floor beside me, screaming.  I wonder if they’re behavior is normal.  I wonder how every mother has ever survived moments like these-and worse.  I wonder how single moms have done it.  How have they done it and not gone crazy?  Is that why so many have gone crazy?  I’ve been passing another kidney stone lately, and of course, at that moment, the pain starts up again.  “Seriously!?”  Aurora, then lays her head on my abdomen, on top of the pain.  Why of course.  Laying on me makes her stop crying so I don’t move her.

It’s now 7:30 and I just got Henri asleep.  Aurora is in a remarkably good mood and wide awake now.  I’m letting the TV babysit for a bit.  I can see her from the computer, dancing to Yo Gabba Gabba in front of the couch.  When did we adults lose our ability to pop back the way kids do?

There have been so many moments like these, aside from the choking-that was a first.  During these times I don’t know what’s harder, type 1 diabetes or having twins.  They intertwine and make the other more difficult and I don’t appreciate it one bit.  One is challenging enough.  Alex probably won’t get home today for another 9 or 10 hours.  I’ll just have to hang in there until then.  And I should probably test right now, while I can.  My blood sugar is 212- no surprise there.

Too Much, Too Soon


The pow wow in the center of the room ended early due to sleepiness

The pow wow in the center of the room ended early due to sleepiness


I’m talking about freedom.  One week ago, my toddlers had their cribs converted to toddler beds.  Today, they sleep soundly in their cribs once more.  Friday night around 10pm my husband and I went into their bedroom to check on them and see how they were sleeping in their beds and we found them in the middle of the room, on the floor.

A few hours later I HAD to see them again and I was startled when my son sleep walked from the floor to his bed, teddy bear in hand.  He didn’t even notice me.  That was weird.  Then I look around in the dark for my daughter to find her several feet away from where she was before, face down on the carpet, under the window.  I checked her breathing and pulse the way I often do since becoming the most paranoid mama in the history of the universe.  Then I scooped her up and laid her in her bed.

I walked back to my bedroom shaking my head.  I was worried about someone jumping from the crib and getting hurt.  Then my husband said, “I think this was too much, too soon.”  He’s right.  Our kids couldn’t handle so much newfound freedom quite yet.  I’m just going to have to limit idle crib time so no one gets any ideas.

This has nothing do with diabetes except that it does.  These little stresses in life distract from diabetes management and wreak havoc on my blood sugars by altering my hormones.  For real!  My blood sugars were higher this past week with my kids being “loose” from their cages cribs than they’ve been in a long time. 

Right now my tiny tots are asleep on cozy matresses instead of the floor and I’m actually eating lunch while sitting.  It’s great for me, them, and my blood sugars :)

Dreaming of a Magical Nanny



Parents de-stress with scenes like these

Parents de-stress with scenes like these


Odd title right?  It’s just that what does one dream of when they’re sleepy?  A pillow or their bed, no?  Well, I’m dreaming of a nanny.  One that helps me with my twins.  She carries a magical wand and sings like Mary Poppins.  Every time my son wants to turn into the Tazmanian Devil she shakes the wand at him and voila, Taz is happy.  Every time my daughter wants to jump off of a high place, Magical Nanny is there to quickly catch her in midair and float her down to the ground gently.  Sounds wonderful.

Don’t worry, I’m not losing it.

It’s just I’ve been having so much fun lately.  My twins are 22 months old and currently transitioning into toddler beds (their cribs convert).  My husband and I were not eager for this move, in fact we’ve been dreading it for a while.  However, we don’t want anyone to fall splat on their head.  Last weekend we walked into the kid’s bedroom to greet them in the morning and what started as a “good morninggg!!”  suddenly turned into a “whooaa!” as my husband quickly grabbed our daughter who was trying to leap off of the top of her crib.  I knew she’d be the first to do it.

We can’t lower the cribs further as they are as low as they go so toddler beds it is.  Only, trying to get two little playmates asleep when they can leave their beds is simply…sigh.  Let’s just say it’s only been a few days and I already don’t know how we’re going to make it.  They normally nap 1.5 to 3 hours around noon every day but lately?  No nap.  Instead, they get pretty cranky around 2pm and stay that way for several hours.  By the time dad gets home he’s wondering what happened to his little angels. 

At night, the room is really dark and I guess they’re not tempted to play.  However, during the day, despite me shoving all the toys in the closet, they still got each other and apparently that’s more than enough. 

Yesterday, I kept laying them in their beds and asking them to stay.  Five seconds later I’d hear a noise and go back in.  They had climbed the changing table, were both standing on top with their tiny arms in the air as if they had just successfully climbed Mt. Everest.  They probably wondered why I didn’t cheer them on.  Instead, I’m like, “Oh wow this is so dangerous!”   At this point I notice that the painting above the changing table is on the floor.  “So that’s what they were after”, I thought.  The painting goes away into another room.  It’s their beloved painting made by dad of a tiger chasing another tiger with a green and black checkered tile background (Hey, you should see the blue tree I painted for them).  The kids scream. 

And I let them while I have some juice to fix my blood sugar which is lowering because of all the baby lifting.  My back is starting to hurt because it’s been an hour of repeat attempts at getting them to stay in their beds.  Forget the kettle bell workout later, this is it.

Then, we try again.  I go out onto the balcony and watch them from the window.  They’re back on the changing table.  “You guys!  What if you fall down?!”  Out goes baby Everest.  They really aren’t happy, now.  I’ve made their room boring.  And the changing table has made my living room look wrong.

I try the whole process of asking them to stay in their beds, putting them back in their beds, over and over and over.  Before I know it three hours have passed and like any normal person, I give up. 

I haven’t had lunch.  My back is really sore.  The kids are cranky and laying on pillows on the floor.  I give them something to drink and offer them a snack.  I try to engage them in some play time or story time but they are sleepy and easily irritated by the slightest touch or interference from the other.  And yet they can’t stay apart.  “Henri, please don’t roll over your sister, she doesn’t appreciate it.”

I test and find that I’m again in need of sugar.  I have some chocolate almond milk and some broccoli and some licorice.  It’s all I’ve ate all day and lately, it’s how I’ve been eating.  Quick and on the go.

My blood test results come through the door along with my husband that evening.  My A1c is 5.7 and everything else looks good.  Although my Vitamin D is low-which I suspected because I tend to need a good bit.  I’ve been supplementing but the doctor says I need to take more.  So I need it to stop raining while I supplement in the meantime.  I knew my A1c would be higher than last time.  I’ve let my sugars run higher than normal because life with twin toddlers is always pushing my blood sugar down.  You really should feel my abs.  Like, Chevy Trucks, they’re like a rock.  Too bad they don’t look that way…

Anyway, you always hear stories of how lovely twin toddlers are because they play together.  Well of course they’re lovely but staying home with them all day is an exhausting full time job.  Then the house is a part time job.  My writing is a part time job.  My diabetes is a full time job.  Ha!  No wonder the house is a mess.  A diabetes cure would be ideal because I want to keep my kids, I don’t think magical nanny exists, and because I like to write.  The diabetes can go away, though.

Things a Diabetic Mom Says




I say a lot of things to my kids that my parents said to me growing up.  But It just occurred to me I say a lot of things I never heard them say.  Such as…

“No sweetie, don’t throw my insulin vial!”

“Nooo! Don’t put that test strip in your mouth!”

“Yes it has fun buttons but that meter is not a toy.”

“Mommy is giving an insulin shot, can you say i-n-s-u-l-i-n  s-h-o-t?”

“Sorry I can’t pick you up right now, I’m high”

“Hold on to that book honey, mommy needs sugar right now”

“You want more water, son?  More?  Don’t worry me, please child.”

“Aww, you handed me my syringe, thank you!”

“No biting the medical alert bracelet please, I might need that.”

“Go with your daddy, mommy needs to test”


Some of these will be fun to say in public!

I can see my kids are going to know a lot about diabetes by the time they are five.  It will be as natural as my hair color- (cough!) 

Seriously, those of you who have diabetes and have children, do you hold back on diabetes talk with your kids or does it tend to just come out?  I don’t even think twice about it.  These things are natural to my life and therefore I imagine when my kids think of me this stuff will just be a part of it.  Not the most important part but ever present. 

As your children got older did you explain more about diabetes or do you think we should protect them from all the details?  I’m going back and forth.  My kids aren’t even two yet but these are things I think about…

The Terrific Twos Come Early

Henri is quite the character
Henri is quite the character


I’m ok with the term “terrible twos” because it’s meant to be humorous, which I can appreciate.  It comes from parents who say it in a “I adore my child but he’s driving me nuts”, kind of way.  For the record, my kids are little angels who can do no wrong.  So I chose “terrific twos” for the title, instead.  And let’s just say I fully understand where “terrible twos” comes from…

My two are now 21 months old and the past few weeks have progressed rather interestingly.  My son has increased his temper tantrum rate by oh I don’t know, 1000 percent.  He is sweet and cuddly and gives kisses one minute.  Then he bites, arches his back, and throws himself on the ground the very next.  I don’t talk to a lot of parents with young children and it has occurred to me that parents with older children must have forgotten the way their kids acted when they were one and two years old because to their recollection their kids “never did that”.  I may soon be repressing these memories, as well, believe me.

Anyway, I have been watching my son lately with my worried shades on thinking, “aauugh, what if something is wrong with him!  He can’t hear me say the word no without flipping out!”  The other day his dramatic behavior prompted me to check his blood sugar.  He was a perfect 85 on the meter and didn’t even bat an eye at the finger prick.  He must have been observing me well because he licked the blood right off his finger like I do after testing.  The very qualities in him of fast learning and intense longing for independence seem to fuel his frustrations.  He doesn’t just want in the kitchen to play on the floor.  Pots and pans are not enough.  Playing in the fridge (look, I get desperate) isn’t enough.  He wants to help me cook the food.  The other day I gave him a spatula and he stirred the lamb stew gently like a pro.  I turn to check on his sister and find her dancing, jumping, and spinning in circles in the living room.  She almost trips over a toy but catches herself from falling and exclaims, “I did it!”

Today after two hours of tantruming, I joined my son on the floor in a river of our tears.  It was overwhelming because I needed to test and I needed to change his diaper and my daughter’s and I needed to pee and I needed to feed them lunch.  Usually when her brother does his thing, my daughter goes off and plays on her own and lets me hold him.  It’s like she understands he needs mommy and that mommy’s hands are full.  I hadn’t finished my lunch when this all began so I gave her my plate of chicken, mushrooms, and brown rice and she used my utensil to feed herself like a lady.  I was so proud. 

When my husband got home I hopped online and looked up stages of development in toddlers.  Apparently the “terrible twos” is a developmental stage that can start as early as 18 months and the description of what children might do is pretty much a description of all the fun we’ve been having with our son lately.  Sigh.  All normal stuff.  I think what amplifies the situation for me is the fact that I have two of the same age and type 1 diabetes.  It’s a lot to handle while dad is at work 12 hours a day.  And we can’t leave the apartment all day because we’re on the 3rd floor and these tantrums come unexpectedly. 

Once, I was attempting to take the kids to the car for a ride and I couldn’t even lock the apartment door.  I tried with my teeth but no can do (I had to hold on to two kids).  Then I thought, “Oh well, this is a nice neighborhood” and left the door unlocked and then tried getting down the stairs with the kids but one wanted to pick up a salt crystal (the toxic ones from winter) and the other was tumbling down the stairs while holding my hand, dragging me along.  Then, because I felt vulnerable I started thinking, “I wonder if my blood sugar is getting low” and since I couldn’t get one to come down the stairs and the other to stop falling down the stairs I settled on that it was too dangerous to attempt.  I had juice with me but how was I going to drink it with my hands tied anyway?  I got them back up the stairs which took a ridiculous amount of time, resulted in a bloody knee for me, and we haven’t ventured out alone since. 

This age is really fun, there are a billion cute moments during the day, and my husband and I love them so very much.  But.  They are driving me nuts.  I’m literally singing the “I Will Survive” song in my head right now. 


princess Aurora is too!
Aurora doesn’t look mischevious but look out! 

The Most Awesome Thing I’ve Done Despite Diabetes


This is a DSMA prompted question and a submission for the DSMA Blog Carnival. 

The most awesome thing I’ve done despite diabetes is start a family. 

Diabetes had kicked all the self esteem out of me to the point that when my now husband, wanted to go out with me in high school, all my self loathing led to a solid, “No”.  I worked hard to get past those issues and with patience and love from family and friends, I was eventually able to come to a more respectful place with myself and feel worthy of the man I loved.  Years later he was still thinking of me as more than a friend and shortly after, we married.

"OMG your stuck with me!"
“OMG your stuck with me!”


Then he and I were thinking about children but I wasn’t so sure it was in the cards for me.  In the short amount of time prior to having them, I had recurring kidney stones, ruptured ovarian cysts, and was told I may never conceive due to PCOS.  Then one month after getting married, I conceived twins!  Carrying two normal sized babies while having two vertebrae out of place was much harder than I imagined.  Carrying them while adjusting type 1 diabetes throughout all kinds of wild hormone changes and insulin need fluctuations was…well It’s one of those things; I don’t know how I did it but I’ve found we’re all pretty good at mustering all the strength in the world for our families.

"Hey, I know you!" "Yeah, I'm your little bro, thanks for not kicking me anymore"
“Heyyy, I know you!” “




"Everyone says you're a little guy but mommy carried you, she knows different!"
“Everyone says you’re a little guy but mommy carried you, she knows different!”


Diabetes and Parenting, Anxiety in the Making


We know what can make a person anxious.  An unfamiliar social setting, an upcoming doctor visit, a college graduation resulting in a fear of the unknown, being the first to say the words, “I love you”.  Anxiety is a normal thing in life.  What’s not normal is feeling too much anxiety.

Having diabetes may mean fighting a constant thread of anxiety 100% of the time.  Having children, I’ve learned, produces more anxiety than I could have ever imagined.  Many of us find it can be worrisome to spend all day alone as a diabetic.  Never mind spending all day alone with diabetes and two little ones to look after. 

My mother stopped by the other day around lunchtime and worried when I didn’t answer the incessant door knocking and phone rings.  She finally got management to open up my apartment door.  Turns out the kids and I were sound asleep at nap time (I don’t normally nap).  It made me realize however, the anxiety for her as a parent, doesn’t go away just because I’m 27.

When you combine diabetes and children, such as in the case of my parents, who raised two kids with type 1 diabetes (plus three others), or in my case, a type 1 diabetic raising two children, you get…ANXIETY!  Before my day has hardly begun, I’m already feeling a little wigged out.

For example, when I wake up in the morning there is this feeling of urgency to get out the meter and (fingers crossed!) hope for a good number.  If I’m low, I “run, run, run” to the kitchen for some juice because “I’m alone with the kids and they depend on me”.  If I’m high, “oh no, how am I gonna deal with this and the kids this morning?” is what goes through my head.  Let’s say my blood sugar is good and I know that in 10 minutes I’m going to make breakfast for everyone.  I give insulin and wash up.  Next, I change the kid’s diapers (a major challenge nowadays), their clothes (yet, another struggle), give them a bottle, clean up the couch (they like to pour milk on it), and make their breakfast.  I think, “When did I give insulin? Ah yes, 10 minutes ago.  Ok, so in about 5 minutes I have to be eating something”.  I put the kids in their high chairs and give them their meal.  I’m about to take a bite when, “No! Please don’t take your brother’s food!  And please sit down! Thank you!”  I’m about to try that bite again but, “No throwing food on the floor guys!  Eat your food, please.”  I walk over to pick up the food on the floor and get the kids to sit properly.  Then, “Uh oh, I think I’m getting low”.  I guzzle some juice, forgetting about breakfast, entirely.  My heart races.  Back to the kids, “No no, don’t run your dirty fingers through your hair, please!”  I pick up the kids, take them to the sink to get their hands and faces washed up.  Man they’re heavy when I’m a little low.  I struggle to get them out of the bathroom because they love to flush the toilet and always try to lean into the tub.  I stumble back to the kitchen and finish my juice only to see the kids jumping on the couch.  I run over to prevent the little monkeys from falling.  They don’t want down.  I say, “Ok, let’s read some books!”  We read “Goodnight Moon” 20 times.  “Uh oh, I feel low again.  Run back to the kitchen and grab some juice.  Mental note: “Sysy, just don’t give insulin tomorrow morning, just don’t eat, it’s easier”.  <SIGHHH>  (Now you all see why I’m better off eating lower carbs= less insulin!)

This is just my first hour of the day.  The 10 hours that follow are very similar.  If the mix of parenting and diabetes doesn’t cause a person anxiety, I don’t know what does. 

God Bless you if you live with some combination of diabetes and parenting. :)

Diabetes, Little Angels, and Helpful People

Henri and Aurora
Henri and Aurora


Months ago, I wrote a post titled, “Diabetes, Tantrums, and Useless People”.  If you didn’t read it, it had to do with a trip to Target that my husband and I made with our one year old twins.  Such a small outing scared us silly and we decided to just visit parks for a while-at least until the kids settled down.  It seems they had reached the tantrum stage. 

Well, this winter our kids haven’t gone out much (maybe once a week) so I don’t know if nature took it’s course or if prolonged periods of time at home instilled patience in them.  But, they’re different.

Last night, my son Henri, who literally tries to escape out the front door every time it’s opened, seemed especially agitated to be stuck at home.  So since Alex got home a little early from work we decided to take the kids out.

We went to Barnes and Noble, the big book seller place.  The kids held our hands and looked around.  Then we went to the area where they have toys from Christmas set up and the kids gently pushed buttons and looked at all the different stuff there. 

Once or twice Henri took off running but, instead of crying he laughed-so that was nice.  We’ve been playing tag at home so it only figures.  Aurora is sneaky.  She would look at us with a sly smile, slowly turn a corner, and then march determinedly towards wherever she wanted to go.  No one dropped to their knees and screamed when we redirected them.  What a relief!

Then they played in the children’s area where there was a small stage and stuffed animals set out.  Aurora clung to a doll with the craziest hair and outfit I’ve ever seen.  I was amused at how she wanted nothing to do with the cute stuffed animals-just that crazy doll, which she hugged and danced with.  Henri was up and down the step of the stage, finding it fun to jump off and see if he could stay on his feet instead of land on his nose, which he did once and just found funny.

We left there with willing babies because we told them we were going to eat.  And they like to eat.  We don’t go to restaurants because it’s expensive and because we keep Aurora away from any egg or peanut due to her allergies.  We went to the Fresh Market, which is a small grocery store and so dinner was yogurt, berries, and a cookie.  I know, I know, too much sugar, but this was their once a week dessert treat. 

We ate in the car, in the parking lot, with the kids in the front seat on our laps.  Everything was fine and dandy until my husband tried to turn on the vehicle.  It wouldn’t.  We didn’t realized our son had turned on all the lights.  So our battery was dead.  The people to the left and right of us had just gone in to do their groceries and we’d have to wait it out.  After 10 minutes or so a man came out and “yesss!” went to his truck parked next to us.  My husband asked him if he could help us out and the man happily agreed. 

Another man happened to walk by and said he was a mechanic and he helped set up the cables and stayed for a few minutes to ensure we’d be ok.  I thought that was good Samaritan of him.

I watched my husband and the man with the truck and noticed the man said, “where are you from?”  My husband said, “Mexico”.  The man said, “me too!”.  They spoke in Spanish while the vehicle charged up which left me thinking, gee what a small world.  I’ve never even seen anyone who looks Hispanic at the Fresh Market before…then again it’s hard to spot us sometimes.

When my husband got back in the car he said what the man’s first name was.  Then I said, “wait… is his last name Rodriguez?”  “Yeah, that’s it!” 

“Oh, I thought he looked familiar!  I’ve met him, he works where I used to work!  Now we can send him a thank you card!”

On the way home we passed two cars in a parking lot, one with jumper cables attached to the other.

We went home feeling reassured of our faith in humanity and of our two little angels.  Oh, and my blood sugar was 95 when we got home.  It doesn’t get any better than that.