I think that getting pregnant right after getting diagnosed last time didn't give me much time to digest that,"hey, I have diabetes" and that my food plan and my exercise to fight the disease was less a function of me, and more a function of "I want a healthy baby."

I started off doing it for myself and then it became about the baby and as my life has been evolving and revolving, it's still about the baby and the boy and the husband and what they need. You know the way you forget geometry when you're not taking it? Here it is, the summation of my life and I've left myself out of the equation for some reason. Wendy plus taking care of Wendy=Happy Mommy and Wife for kids and hubby. I'm not even sure why, but here I am, back in the unit circle of my life following out the lines and planes and angles that the tangents take me to. Again.

The result has been that the baby has, at times, been placed in her crib while I finish my meal. I think it's lovely that she's finished hers, however, being that I usually have to feed it to her and eat my dinner between bites, she can wait for me to finish mine without screaming her head off. If she feels the need to scream, I am more than happy to set her in her crib until my meal is finished.

It's that old boundary thing...setting reasonable limits for myself and my life and abiding by them. Hiya, boundary thing. Long time, no see. Where ya been? How's it hangin'?

I walked 15 minutes on Saturday night. My sugars were a little elevated (151) and I needed to get them down for bedtime. Yesterday, I took the whole family for a walk because it was a glorious day (I'm a little sunburned today) out through these gardens to a field where Russell could kick his soccer ball. He and I played and he learned about hipchecking.

Bad Mommy.

Well, you have to understand that Russell cheats like the dickens. He grabs at your shirt, tries to tickle you and I simply hipchecked him when he was doing that and kicked a goal. And boy, did he whine about that. He was ahead by 20 million, so it wasn't like it mattered, but he whined anyway. So I taught him the value of a hipcheck. I think he's all happy to test that out next week at the soccer game. Do you think anyone will complain if the coach's kid hipchecks their kid?

Bad Mommy.

Oh, hi, there boundary thing. Wanna hug?

And I got Russell's test results back from the private consultation. My 7 years and 6 months old son has the physical abilities of an advanced 4 year old.

I'm at a place somewhere between sobbing my eyes out in relief and sobbing in anger at the school and sobbing for my kid who has suffered and endured so much so far. He is my hero.