I Think I'm Extra Sensitive

I notice the little things and take it all in and keep it inside of me for a long time. When a child does something in the way of noticing that Brendon has diabetes and does something nice for him, I take notice. And my heart melts.

Last night at another of Brendon's games, I had him test his blood sugar. A team mate, was sitting beside him, watching from underneath his visor.

He didn't ask questions, and I saw him look away as though he were peaking at something he shouldn't, but couldn't help himself and went back to looking in his shy little way.

In the midst of testing, an unused lancet drop onto the dirt.

The boy saw it and instead of ignoring it, he quickly picked it up and handed it to me. He instinctively knew how important it was.

In his quiet, shy little way, he wanted to help his teammate who was nonchalantly...in a way, absent mindedly...checking his blood sugar. I smiled and thanked him for being so helpful.

To me, the smallest, tiniest gestures like that speak mountains. I've written about the small gestures other children have made toward Brendon, or the concern they've showed for him. They all hold a special place in my heart.

Maybe I'm so sensitive to those things because I know there are gestures out there that could instead be mean spirited and the concerns nonexistent.

10-4 Rubber Duck

Remember the movie Convoy? I heard the theme song on the radio tonight on the way home from Brendon's baseball game. God I loved that movie when it came out on HBO in the late 70's. Rubber Duck was so badass. He didn't bow down to the Man. Yeah! Stick it to the Bear, Rubber Duck!

I believe I'm going off the deep end.

I want to cry because I don't think I could take much more of being home with the kids. Is it September yet?

If I hear "Hey mom!" one more time, I don't know what I'll do. Maybe get a job with Gap so I can fold their jeans the Gapster way.

This is how brain my dead is...cuz I watched the whole thing and thought it was interesting. And then I read the comments people wrote about it and laughed my ass off.

I turned over a new leaf by deciding to write "laughed my ass off" instead of LMAO. Expect to see it in my upcoming posts and comments possibly on your blog!

In The Still Of The Night

Sitting on wooden bleachers in the summertime dusk, I have one eye on Brendon in the Allstar game and another on my rambling two.

The air is dryer than it has been for a while and a chill begins to set in as the sun simmers down along the tree line. The field lights flicker on to brighten the field where boys are adjusting their little protection cups, flicking away the bugs flying around their baseball cap visors and watching their coach give them encrypted hand signals for what to do next.

I can't think of a better night than that. When all is right in the still of the night. The boys are excited and attentive. The siblings who came along are all in another deserted baseball field clustered in a haze of cartwheels, running, tackling, inspecting something in the grass, starting their own clutzy game of baseball.

Jeff is umpiring in the field...I guess at first base. Another mom and I talk about how ignorant we are of terminology, rules, and basic knowledge of just about every sport. But we intently watch the game clapping when we think someone made a good play or scored a point. Oh...right...a run.

Jeff walked to the fence to give me a baseball-like hand signal: the pointer finger held out with one hand while the other pointer finger points to it.

I walk over to the dugout where Brendon is trying to guess whether a baseball is being hidden under the glove of another teammate. He guessed that it was and that it wasn't, thereby covering all of the bases.

His friend B, who wasn't playing in this particular game but whose father was assistant coach, was sitting on the other side of Brendon saying he thought there was a ball under the glove.

I took the test kit out of his baseball bag and began the assembly of the kit.

"What's that?", his teammate asks.

"That's for his diabetes", says B. "I had it done to me yesterday when I was at his house."

The boy watched intently as I pricked Brendon's finger, squeezing out the drop of blood and jerking my head to the side as Brendon yelled near my ear for his teammate on the field to "RUN, RUN, RUN, RUN!!!!!"

"What's that black thing?", another teammate asks as he notices what I'm doing and walks over to inspect.

"That's blood!!", says B.

"Why do you need blood?", asks the newest observer.

"It's for the sugar in my blood", says Brendon.

"Is that like a shot?", says Houdini, with the ball under his baseball glove.

"No", says B. "It doesn't even hurt! I had it done yesterday and it didn't hurt at all."

I was relieved to see he was at 116. He was safe.

I returned to the bleachers and sat to watch the rest of the game.

They lost by one point...or score??...10 to 11. It was a great, fun game though.

Brendon's coach walked over as I was testing Brendon yet again on a different set of bleachers as he ate his after-game hotdog, and told him how impressed he was to see him as catcher.

"Way to stop the ball, Brendon. Way to stop it. I liked the way you worked. You were real good out there. I want to make sure you get more catching time."

I looked at Brendon who was looking upward at his coach with a smile on his face, one hand in mine getting poked with a lancet, and a hot dog in the other hand waiting to be eaten.

All was right in the still of the night.

P.S. The game ended at 10:30 p.m.!!!!!

Email From A Fellow D Mom

I won't cut and paste her email here since I hadn't asked her permission. I do believe in privacy afterall.

I can tell you what it wasn't about. It wasn't about how I inspired her about diabetes or parenting a diabetic child or anything like that.

What it IS essentially about is that she's had many laughs about my use of the word Fuck and what a tension reliever it can be for her to say it privately. And she sent me the following video which absolutely made my day.

I was feeling down and blue today, but damn if the word Fuck doesn't cheer me up whether it's by saying it, writing it, and now watching a very educational video about the word! What a magical tension reliever it can be. She had perfect timing :) Thank you, my new friend :)

We're all adults here, right? (you better be...and make sure you're not at work...or if you are and can't help yourself, close your office door...or if you're in a cubicle, lower the volume and put your ear to the speaker). So, I think you can handle it.

It's funny as H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks (that means Hell).

Rant About Women's Feminine Hygiene Products

Women have certain hygienic challenges that many come face to face with during the course of their lives. It's just a fact of life and one that we'd all like to be kept PRIVATE!!!

None of us talk about it with each other.

I don't hold hands with my mom walking down the beach asking her what she uses to keep her hooha clean and fresh.

In fact, I don't even want to KNOW she has a hooha! My mom has Barbie Doll privates as far as I'm concerned!

Women and men alike have been subjected to watching commercials like a recent one where a woman is window shopping with a screwed expression on her face like she's about to shit her pants and the voice over asks: "Do you have a burning itch down there? Embarassing odor that no matter how often you bathe you just can't get rid of?"

Guess what voice over! It's none of your business!! Do you honestly think women are willing to come forth with their hygienic problems??? Women don't even want to show the cellulite in their thighs! What makes you think they would want to admit they smell like fishermen after a month out at sea??

Last night's commercial really did it for me. A woman is walking down the street acting all gay and peppy, looking pretty in her light, flowy, sleeveless dress enjoying the men ogling her when she steps in front of a cop car sitting in an alley.

She stops and faces the cop car

Lifts her arm

And smells her armpit!!!!! She rolls her eyes in ecstasy and continues on her merry little way.

WTF is wrong with you you advertisers for Secret deodorant!!!!

Do we see men asking each other what jock itch product they use for itchy balls as they scratch away?

Do we see men sniffing their pits and acting like they just smelled cinnamon buns?

So why the hell do advertisers think it's OK to subject actresses to do and say the most embarrassing things that could possibly be thought of?

End of rant...thanks for reading.

Batman...a Loser??

This is the longest movie trailer I've ever seen. You pretty much don't need to see the movie now.

Actually, it's a movie trailer spoof with a conniving Joker who must've taken makeup application lessons from Jessica and an ineffective Batman who is at the bottom of his game. He can't even get the girl! And he drives a really little motorcycle.

How The Kids Occupy Their Time During Summer Vacation

I interrupted their game of "baseball".