As usual, Brownie points for naming the movie.
Nick, you don't get to play. I know that you know this movie.
Bethelle turned seven today. I've never been a mother to a seven year-old before. I hope I pass this test.
She is so beautiful and smart and kind. My favorite thing about her (at this moment) is her perspective. She understands things like a woman well beyond her years. For example, several months ago, she wanted to buy best friend necklaces for herself and a friend (duh). I told her that I didn't forbid the idea, but that she should consider how it might make other friends feel when they were not included in the necklace. She just said, "I didn't think of that. I don't want them anymore." That is so typical for her. She likes to understand the logic behind an idea, and then she'll never fight against it.
She is one of my best friends. I would love to spend all day just with her. Whenever we get the rare chance to go out just the two of us, we always make great memories.
Love you, Bethelle. I'm proud of you for being seven, and so glad that you're not 17. You're still all mine for a while longer.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Friday, March 9, 2012
Vampiress
This morning as I sat by Bethelle over two bowls of Life cereal, she asked me quite sincerely if she could have fangs.
"Fangs?" I asked, trying to sound supportive and yet casual, to match the sincerity of her tone.
"Yes, you know, fangs," she said, pointing to her hairline above her forehead.
With vampires on the mind, I then assumed that she meant a widow's peak. Of which I have first-hand (or head...) experience. I would have no problem with her having one, but why? and how?
I must not have been succeeding at my supportive look. She looked at me like I was an idiot. "Like her, Mom," she said, pointing to the generic picture of a girl on the Life box.
Bangs! Oh, yes, bangs! I clarified the word for her, and we talked about the possibility of cutting her hair.
At the end of the little meal, she concluded that "fangs look better on girls with short hair."
Glad we got that cleared up.
"Fangs?" I asked, trying to sound supportive and yet casual, to match the sincerity of her tone.
"Yes, you know, fangs," she said, pointing to her hairline above her forehead.
With vampires on the mind, I then assumed that she meant a widow's peak. Of which I have first-hand (or head...) experience. I would have no problem with her having one, but why? and how?
I must not have been succeeding at my supportive look. She looked at me like I was an idiot. "Like her, Mom," she said, pointing to the generic picture of a girl on the Life box.
Bangs! Oh, yes, bangs! I clarified the word for her, and we talked about the possibility of cutting her hair.
At the end of the little meal, she concluded that "fangs look better on girls with short hair."
Glad we got that cleared up.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
NOT DIABETIC!
I realize, of course, that most of my readers could say the same thing, and that this really doesn't seem like news worth reporting.
But it's the most exciting thing happening for me right now. Let me 'splain.
I had gestational diabetes with my first pregnancy. After having it once, a woman's chances of having gestational diabetes with every further pregnancy is 90%. 90%! For most of the 10% that don't get it, they have lost a lot of weight between pregnancies, decreasing their odds of recurrence. With the next pregnancy, I took it for granted that I would have it. But I didn't. And then I was again not diabetic with the third. Strange, but I'll take it!
Diabetes tests are administered in two rounds. If you fail the first, you take the second before officially diagnosed. When I failed the first, I was just sure, given my history, that I would fail the second. I had already begun telling friends that I was GD again. I was grieving. The strict diet to which I would be assigned is incredibly boring. There can be no eating out or even eating in friends' homes. I would have to poke my finger four times each day to monitor my blood sugar. There would be extra doctor appointments. But the worst news of it all is that being GD means that you have a 50% chance of developing full-blown type 2 diabetes later in life. Diabetes for two or three months is nothing compared to dealing with it every day, with little hope of a cure, as I am sure that some of my readers know first-hand. Having gotten away healthy in the last two pregnancies, I was hoping that my GD with Bethelle had been a fluke and that I did not have that 50% chance. When I failed the first test this time, it all came flooding back to me. No fluke, I thought.
Well, as already indicated, I just heard back from my nurse that my sugar levels in the second test were a little higher than usual, but not to the diabetic level. I told her that it had been my intention all along to cut back on sugars and carbs for my last trimester due to my history. She said that sounds great, but to "go celebrate with a cookie!" Don't know if I will. But I will at least blog about it.
But it's the most exciting thing happening for me right now. Let me 'splain.
I had gestational diabetes with my first pregnancy. After having it once, a woman's chances of having gestational diabetes with every further pregnancy is 90%. 90%! For most of the 10% that don't get it, they have lost a lot of weight between pregnancies, decreasing their odds of recurrence. With the next pregnancy, I took it for granted that I would have it. But I didn't. And then I was again not diabetic with the third. Strange, but I'll take it!
Diabetes tests are administered in two rounds. If you fail the first, you take the second before officially diagnosed. When I failed the first, I was just sure, given my history, that I would fail the second. I had already begun telling friends that I was GD again. I was grieving. The strict diet to which I would be assigned is incredibly boring. There can be no eating out or even eating in friends' homes. I would have to poke my finger four times each day to monitor my blood sugar. There would be extra doctor appointments. But the worst news of it all is that being GD means that you have a 50% chance of developing full-blown type 2 diabetes later in life. Diabetes for two or three months is nothing compared to dealing with it every day, with little hope of a cure, as I am sure that some of my readers know first-hand. Having gotten away healthy in the last two pregnancies, I was hoping that my GD with Bethelle had been a fluke and that I did not have that 50% chance. When I failed the first test this time, it all came flooding back to me. No fluke, I thought.
Well, as already indicated, I just heard back from my nurse that my sugar levels in the second test were a little higher than usual, but not to the diabetic level. I told her that it had been my intention all along to cut back on sugars and carbs for my last trimester due to my history. She said that sounds great, but to "go celebrate with a cookie!" Don't know if I will. But I will at least blog about it.
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