Up, Up and Away

I have a problem, it seems.

I'll confess now:

My name is Jules and since my child was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes I am a metaphoroholic.

Can't seem to help myself.

Even on my first hour or two home from the hospital, two years ago, whilst Frank and Mr Muffinmoon were still there, I looked at my little boys' toys and clothes and at his empty room and thought of Tiny Tim's little crutch from "A Christmas Carol".

My husband totally calls me on this and at least makes me smile when I get mawkish.

So, on to today's choice of title.

On Thursday this week we go to Addenbrookes hospital in Cambridge to begin our pump journey.

I do hope it goes more smoothly than our kite flying attempts yesterday out at Cudmore Grove in East Mersea.

That kite smashed into the ground with such force!

Not a great thing for a woman obsessed with metaphors...

I have been chatting to Frank to prepare him and he thinks a pump is a good idea because the injections hurt.

Sniff.

My boy is brave and takes the hurt four times a day along with numerous finger pricks too.
Today I took him to Frinton where we met his friend Halim and his family.

Look at those happy faces!

(I asked them to laugh their most cheeky laughs; this is what I got!!)

And finally, I end with a gratuitous Moomin photo.

Green tea was drunk from this, my favourite little Moomin mug, as I watched the children building sand castles and drawing train tracks in the sand.

Think of us three on Thursday. I will be back very soon with a mountain of questions for you all, I'm sure. I just can't think of any at the moment. I believe they are being drowned out by the white noise in the tiny walnut that is my brain ...