Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Being 10

9 rolls into 10. And suddenly we are in double digits.

Everyone told her that when they wished her 'Happy Birthday.' Everyone. They would say 'Whew, now you are in double digits, missy!' 'Wow, double digits for you!' and after we picked up her cake at the grocery store (no judging, I don't bake and they made a Justin Bieber cake. Word. I really can't do that at all) she turned to me as we walked to the car and said 'Mom, what does everyone mean by now I'm double digits and why do they raise their eyebrows and look like 'WOW'?

'Well, honey, you are 1-0 now and that is two digits together. You were one digit for 9 years, and now you will be two digits for a long time. 21, 32, 45, 68, you know. Sometimes people even make it to THREE digits. Like 1-0-0.'

'Ok, got it. Still seems silly, but I got it. I'm gonna be in the double digits for a long time, so when you finally get there, it's like you've arrived.'

'Yeah honey, you've arrived.'

And being 10 totally rocks.

Here's to arriving one day, God willing, at the triple digits, sweetie.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

D at the Beach

We love our beach time. Boogie boarding and surfing and riding the waves. And our Pod comes along for all of it. Some good ole SkinTac on it as we prep the site, and that little darling Pod stays on through everything. Waves crashing, thrown to the ground, swimming out to the faraway sandbar where your feet cannot touch the bottom - yep, stays on through all of it.

Most of the time Grace wears her Pod on her stomach or her arms. Those are her favorite sites. Once in a while we rock a thigh site, but rarely a bottom. Girl has a curvy bottom and darn it those Pods don't curve at all? The Pod sits weird on her bottom, rocks a bit and sure enough, gets angry with us there, resulting in a red cannula site. So, no bottom sites lately for us.

Back to the beach. We only had one catastrophe this last week. The cord from her boogieboard somehow got wrapped around the top part of her Pod, and 'ripped off' the top of the Pod, resulting in the cannula coming out. She screamed in the water as it happened, and I look over and see the Pod tape around the Pod still there, but the Pod itself doing a little dangle from her arm. It hurt her, and she cried.

We got out of the water, gave a little raised fist in the air to diabetes, sat down in our beach chairs, dried off, wiped up our eyes and arm, and got about the business of getting the ripped Pod off and a new one on. I don't let something like a ripped Pod stop our business of having fun, and I make sure Grace knows it. You want to ride more waves? We got hours here at the beach, Grace! Let's change it and get back out there! And we do. The tears stop, we go about the process of changing a Pod - the Unisolve, the disarming of the current Pod, filling a new one, SkinTac on, autoinsertion, take off the old Pod. Five minutes, tops. Right there on the beach.

And we go on to ride the waves. Dried tears. New Pod.
Rock on, sister!