I used to not look forward to hearing Bear talk at me over and over again about the same things, but now, I do. I frantically AIM Mike at work just wanting to know what he's doing because it has to be more interesting than Ricki Lake's topic du jour,"Can my ex and I get back together and make it?" God, I had no idea to what stupid depths some of daytime TV had sunk to.

And fuck if it isn't hotter than ASS outside. It was better today, but I still didn't get the freaking hose all the way around the building to the zuke and macho nacho pepper patch and one of the macho nacho peppers was looking like it had had a touch too much estrogen and was practicing a good wilt.

And my disease. I keep thinking there has to be more I can do to warn people. I want to tell every 20-something year old who has a family history of diabetes or who's carrying a spare tire to watch their ass. This disease takes 10-15 years to develop. I'm 36 and I have this disease. That means I may have been starting to develop it at 21!

I went to one of these Salon shops that has a crapload of hair and nail products to get barretts for my hair. I figure, hair crap is an acceptable beauty splurge. I don't feel like I can dye my hair right now because G sleeps in the room and the smell of the hair crap makes Mike and Bear flee the house flinging dirty looks at me, so it's a bit much to expect her to be amused by it. Thus, I feel the need to do something fluffy, so hair crud it is.

Okay, but back to the story...the guy at the register said something about needing to lose weight. And I couldn't help myself, and I bragged that I've lost a total of 60lbs. He and his co-clerk were impressed and asked what I did. I told them I got diabetes and got scared to death and dropped the weight. Then the guy said something about his aunt just lost her leg and that his father was just diagnosed. I told him that he should watch his weight and explained about the fat cells getting too big and therefore, resistant to the body's own insulin, so that weightloss was the single best thing a diabetic could do to help themselves.

The other thing is that the guy couldn't believe that I was doing it without drugs or insulin. I told him that I was doing pretty well with diet and exercise and I am. Lately, the exercise has been a bitch because I can't swim, but the walking to get Bear at school has been a good thing, except for the 100 degree heat. My chicken legs are getting more fowl by the moment and I have been watching my pads with trepidation waiting for the post-partum bleeding shit to stop, so I can swim. Swimming after a long hot walk would grind my gears, I tell ya.

I just have been wishing that I could have a forum where I could warn people of what can happen to them...what diabetes can do to you. I want to tell them that I used to think that it wouldn't happen to me and that I didn't know about my family history of it on my maternal grandmother's side or that big babies (over 9 lbs) is often an indicator and that by the time you experience the warning signs, it's too damned late. 10-15 years in the making, ladies and germs.

I want to ask people in an audience, who they know who has lost their sight, their kidneys, their limb or had an infection, like my great grandmother kill them. My great grandmother had a bunion get infected and didn't take care of it and died of peritonitis. Diabetics have to give up bare feet. And for me, not being able to take my horny toed feet out for ambulation, is a total heartbreaker. Thank goodness for flip-flops, though!

Right now, I'm doing pretty well with my disease. The only drag is that all I want to do in the morning is sleep with Ms. G and I have to be up before 9AM to eat breakfast and usually about the time I get up is about the time, Ms. G thinks someone should be waiting on her, so I grab a cup of yogurt from the fridge, scarf it down and then nurse her blind. Then I make sure to eat a decent snack, which lately has been soy nuts and sesame sticks. Okay, so it sounds gross, but in my house, if I want snacks, I have to get stuff that Mike and Bear won't touch and I actually like the stuff.

It's frustrating though because pretzels are pretty spiffy food and I bought Mike some kind of honey mustard pretzels and he said they were gross and promptly ate my bag of regular pretzels. *sigh*

Oh, and I did check on my anemia with the doctor's office. Last time I was at the doctor's office, I told them I was having trouble dealing with the iron pills and so was G. They told me to get something called Slow Fe, so I did. It worked fine for me, but G was up all night crying pitifully and bringing her knees to her belly in pain. I haven't taken any since, so I called them and explained the problem...anemic...can't take the iron without torturing the baby and they told me I should be able to eat iron rich foods and be OK. So I've been eating raisins, beans, red meat and spinach. Mike complained last night that he's crapping bricks, but I'm feeling good, so he can crap bricks for a while until I feel less like road pizza.

Stasi is in the hospital having her baby. After the excitement part had kicked in and passed by, I cried because she'd gotten to 6 cm in that 1 cm/hour time period that women are supposed to progress to. I wondered what it was like. Mike said it probably hurts like a bitch, but I know nothing hurts like pitocin. I had labor with Russell. It just made me miss the experience I didn't have again. Although, I am excited out of my mind for her. Lucky thing is having her baby on time, too!

I told Mike that in my next life, I'm having a natural at-home birth and I'm delivering a 7lb baby in a birthing tub a week early. Yeah, that's the ticket!