Thursday, 28 January 2010
Sunday, 24 January 2010
Saturday, 23 January 2010
Friday, 22 January 2010
Tuesday, 19 January 2010
Sunday, 17 January 2010
Wednesday, 13 January 2010
Then we have our fab kitsch kitchen (kitschen?)! This is our cabinet of curiosities. Sometimes Frank sits up on the counter and sorts through all the bits and bobs. Every tiny item has a memory attached to it and we add to it all the time. One day it will reach a critical stage and heave itself off the wall, Buckeroo-style.
Above the fridge freezer is the Marmite and vintage tin museum.
And on the larder door, which is 100 years old and salvaged from a friend's house during renovations, is my mantra. Not really. I just liked it and presumed the answer would always be "eat a fried peanut butter and banana sandwich", which works for me.
And finally the corner of the kitschen where we can see the garden. Such lovely light comes in from here. It's my favourite room and I am at my happiest when cooking and listening to the radio or a talking book (Stephen Fry reading Harry Potter produces divine food!)
As an aside, I am just back from going over to Frank's childminder to inject him with his lunchtime insulin. This is the first time I have disrupted his day and he was less stressed than me about the whole thing! He was very high (26.2, blimey!) and I hope will be doing better when I pick him up.
Monday, 11 January 2010
However, being snowed in has meant that we have done many more crafty things and far from being put off by needles Frank has been learning to sew. I bought the cloth at the wool shop recently and he is loving using up all my second hand acrylic wool that I refuse to knit with!
I intend to move onto felting soon, but feel I should attempt it alone first!
Thursday, 7 January 2010
Severine and Frank decorated the snowman with a tangerine and conkers. Sev is from Arcachon in South West France and is loving this real Winter as they only get snow there around once every five years and even then not much.
(Mama and the boy)
Frank is now three and a half and of prime age to lead all the fun. Snow has been tasted, a snowman has been built and dressed (in rather dapper fashion, I might add), snow angels have been created and we have stomped around making footprints in the fresh snow. Between you and me the boy-wonder has also taken uncannily quickly to peeing in the snow. Being T1D and drinking lots anyway means he has had lots of opportunities for this. Oh, well, maybe it will help his literacy as he learns to pee Shakespearean text in iambic pentameter.
After all the snowy fun we came back down to earth with a bump at our three monthly clinic appointment for Frank. The doctor and specialist nurse looked at his numbers for the last few weeks and, as we had figured out ourselves, saw that he is running far too high throughout the day and getting too low sometimes late at night or early in the morning.
A new regime is called for and after much discussion we have to move from one injection a day (Mixitard 30) to three. One basal and two fast acting for meals. Insulin in the evening is going to be avoided at present as he has form with regard to sudden hypos at night. We inject in his perfect, peachy bottom and I am sad again that this tiny little pincushion will be getting more needles in it.
Just when I think I am accepting it all much better the rug gets pulled out again and I realise that it's all smoke and mirrors. It's ongoing and I have to find a way of dealing with that aspect of it without losing myself in the process. Being stressed and sad won't help my beautiful child. Being calm and focused will. Being positive will.
I had a dream on holiday in France that he was cured. He just needed less and less insulin for a few weeks and then suddenly needed none. The feeling of joy in the dream was just so tangible and the next day I spoke to Budd about it and we agreed that no one but a parent of a child with T1D could understand the relief of having a cure.
We were also informed that he may have the very first signs of thyroid problems. Nothing definite yet but they want to check him every three months instead of every year.
I thank my lucky stars for this child I was informed I had no chance of having. But bloody hell.
So, a mixed day of joy and sadness.
Never forgetting: it's all about the boy.
Tuesday, 5 January 2010
We walked and ran and read and slept lots. Frank invariably raced me everywhere.We ate good, real food and took our time over it. In France they are not afraid of carbs or protein and balance them well. Frank loved his steak hache with frites (although in this photo you can see the distain he has for salad!)We enjoyed country walks and running around on beaches as much as the weather allowed.
People eat WELL, WELL, WELL in this beautiful land. They eat real food with real fats and sugar too. And they don't snack much. They live for the pleasure of good food and eat it slowly, savouring two hour lunch breaks and good conversation. Children eat the same food as adults. They drink tiny little coffees (we tried not to look hugely disappointed when our "grand cafes cremes" arrived and were tiny to the point that we felt like Hagrid drinking from normal cups, so used are we to huge lattes and the like).
I do wonder how life is for French diabetics. There seems to be little denial but an embracing of pleasure at good and real food.
Frank's blood sugar was in excellent shape pretty much the whole time. Should muffinmoon become muffinlune? Hmmmm...
I don't think we need to emigrate though. Just learn from what we saw and experienced and incorporate it into our lives.