The Bad and the Ugly

No longer having children live at home means that I don’t have to worry about school schedules. I don’t have to concern myself with getting teens out of bed that would rather sleep.  I don’t have to make lunches.  There is a great freedom there.

Having children who don’t live with you does not free you from worry.  My oldest son makes a 9 hour journey by car every 10 days to go to work. I stress as he drives home for his days off. I stress as he drives back to return for his next run of work. Some times my worries are even warranted.

The other night he had vehicle trouble. I sat by my phone all night until I knew that he was safe.  I felt bad for him.  He had to get up early for work.  I was able to try to catch an extra hour in the morning….or so I thought.

I have two sons and at 7am I heard from my younger son.  He was vomiting.  What should he do? When my boys are sick, Mom is still the first one that they call.  I asked him what his bg levels were? We needed to know if we were dealing with a tummy bug or a really high blood glucose level.

He told me that he couldn’t check. He was throwing up too much.  To prove the point, he sent me a picture.  You have to love boys!

Eventually his stomach relented and allowed him to test.  No bug, he was high, like super high, like “HI!” from a cheerful meter kind of high!  I hate that kind of high.  We went through the protocol….

Inject yourself with insulin.

Change your site.

Change your insulin cartridge.

Check for ketones.

The protocol took over an hour to complete.  He was throwing up and upset by the mess that was being made.  He was alone in the house and having to do everything himself.  My heart was aching.  This is the bad part of having your children move away.  You can’t take over and let them just be sick.  I continued to walk him through what had to be done.

Sleep was now impossible. I got up as I waited to hear what stage he was at.  Insulin was in. Thank goodness! Now at least his body had something to work with.

New site and cartridge were done.  One more step towards normalcy!

Now to stop the vomiting and get some recovery.  He had no gravol or any other anti-nausea medications.  He did find some fluids and worked to keep them down.

He found his ketone meter.  The results were in the “holy crap” category but just under the “you can’t do this alone. Get to the hospital now!” category. “Insulin and water” he repeated. “Don’t forget the test a lot until you have in range readings and no ketones.  Also, do NOT sleep.”  He told me that sleep was not an option.

We continued to stay in contact.  He continued to take charge of his care and get things sorted. I continued to hate diabetes for making him have to be so responsible at 17. We both survived. That’s the main thing….


The DexCom has Come To Town

It’s in the house. He is willing to try. Momma is quietly dancing inside hoping for the very best.

What is it? It’s a DexCom, given to us to try by our fabulous Animas rep.  She dropped it off to me with instructions last week. It sits reverently on top of my son’s dresser waiting for him to come home to try it out. I am nervous and excited.

For years I have wanted my son to use a CGM.  I could see how it would make nights so much easier. I could see where it would help him during the day. The thought of seeing a 5mmol and actually knowing if this was a good reading or one that would drop dangerously low has been just too much for this momma bear to hope for.

My son on the other hand has never had any interest in a CGM. He doesn’t care what Mom says.  He has not been bothered by T1 people telling him how much he would love it. To him it has been an extra thing to wear and carry. It was a burden not worth his time.

What has changed? I am not sure. He is a bit older. He is looking at his future in the workforce. He has been dealing with his own care and his own doctor appointments for the past year.  Perhaps the combination has brought him to a point where he is at least willing to give something new a try. I don’t know but I am so happy…and so scared.

What if he does like it? What if he wants to move forward with purchasing one? How will I afford it? How will he? Will he end up working for a company that will cover a CGM and his pump supplies? If he doesn’t, will he make enough money to be able to cover this cost on his own? Will we be able to convince the provincial government of both the long and short-term value of sensor augmented insulin pumps?


Its here!

There are so many questions and so few answers.  For now I will focus on one thing–in a bedroom, in our house is a device that will change how we see my son’s blood glucose readings for one week over Christmas.  That device will offer us a window into a world that we had never had more than a glimpse of in the past.  It is the key to better control and perhaps even a bit more freedom for my son. It’s not a cure but fourteen years ago, I could only hope for another tool in this fight to keep my son healthy.  Soon we get to see if it’s a fit for him.

I am the Robert Munsch Momma. What type are you?

I was recently approached by the Outreach Coordinator of Oscar Health Insurance and asked if I would do a post on what it was like being a mother of a child with diabetes. She asked that I look at a title along the lines of “I am a mother.  What type are you?”  I thought that there could be a lot of posts with that title so I decided to make my title a bit more specific to my situation.

When my children were small I loved reading Robert Munch books to them.  One book that resonated with me was “Love you Forever“.  A lot of people find the book creepy. Sadly, to me it makes a lot of sense.

My youngest son was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes when he was only 2 years old.  He is now 17.  I have spent a lot of nights crawling quietly into his room to test him, feed him, or give him insulin–all while he remained sleeping.  I have spent a lot of those nights watching over both of my children thankful that they were alive and praying that they remained safe.

The days, just like for the mother in the book were different.  When my son was small, getting him to eat was a challenge. Like his mother, he was not big on breakfast.  Unlike his mother, he had injected insulin in his system that demanded food to cover it. Our life was hell.  I would have to force feed a willful toddler who had no idea why this was happening to him,  Despite the tears and frustration of the long days,  each night I still would see his beautiful sleeping face and I would again be grateful for that insulin that was keeping him alive.

Like Robert Munsch’s character, my son grew, and grew and grew until he too was a pre-teen who walked his own path.  No matter how long he had lived with diabetes, he forgot to test. He missed insulin doses.  He forgot to change his infusion sets…and he lied about it.

There is a lot of guilt when dealing with a child with diabetes. We, as parents, should have been able to protect them from such an evil disease. They should not have to bear this burden.  With the help of people like Joe Solowiejczyk, I learned that it was okay to punish for diabetes related lapses just as I would for failure to brush his teeth or do his homework.   I learned that  as this was the hand that we were dealt and it was up to us to make the very best of it.

My son continued to grow.  He grew and he grew until he was a teenager and once again, there were new challenges for both of us.  As he grew, he worked to push me (and diabetes) further away as he struggled for his own independence.  He no longer wanted to be bothered by a mother asking about readings.  He wanted to work-out and talk to his friends. He wanted to do it on his own…and I was terrified.

When my son turned 16, he took the biggest leap towards his own independence.  He chose to move to finish his last years of high school. Today, I no longer see my son daily. He lives about 1000km away from me.  We text and call. When he has a problem, I am always there at the end of the phone but he deals with his own doctors appointments and daily diabetes care. I still worry.

He comes to visit me during the holidays and instantly my “momma clock” returns and I am awake to test him during the night. He enjoys the break and I am once again the mother in “I’ll Love you forever”. I am creeping into this big, young man’s room, quietly lancing his finger and saying a prayer of gratitude when the readings are okay and I know he is safe.

In another year, he will be finished high school and plans to move back in with me to complete his post-secondary training.  It will be a different dynamic for both of us. He is no longer the little boy I once rocked to sleep. He is now a young man with a full life ahead of him but no matter what…well my boys will always still be my little boys and I will always be just like that momma in Mr. Munsch’s story….  I will love them forever. I will like them for always.  As long as I’m living my babies they will be.


The Why

Diabetes Advocacy.  Its a simple name for a website that I created so long ago that I honestly can’t remember the exact date. The name happened when my mother told me to name it what it was…a site dedicated to advocating for people with diabetes.

An online dictionary defines advocacy as “the act of pleading for, supporting, or recommending”.  For years I have pleaded for changes in various aspects of life with diabetes. I have challenged the federal government in regards to their treatment of people with diabetes who were receiving life sustaining therapy.  I have supported efforts to raise awareness and fight for the rights of children with diabetes in schools.  I have recommended the coverage of insulin and CGM therapy by all provincial health programs in Canada.

Why do I do it? A lot of people ask me that question. Some people think that I do it for the money.  That’s pretty funny since no one pays me. I would love to be paid but I have yet to find a way to have that happen.  Is there fame in the world of diabetes? Yes, a few people seem to recognize my name but I am not a wildly famous superstar.  I am just a woman, a mom, and a partner who occasionally opens her mouth on issues that bother her. A few people assume that I do it for my son.

In part they would be right but I don’t just do it for my son.  Every time I hear from a person with diabetes, no matter what the age, I think of them as someone’s child.  I see my son in them and my heart aches.  There but for the grace of God is my child.

I want to get up in the middle of the night for them to give them a break.  I want to be there for them when they are alone and fearing a low that will leave them vulnerable and in danger. I want them to have a “normal” life with “normal” concerns like what will I have for supper not how will I pay for my test strips this month.  I want them all to live their lives to the fullest not live their lives to the fullest with diabetes. I want to wave a wand and make that last part of the sentence disappear for each and every one of them….including my son.

I am lucky.  People share their stories with me.  I hear about your triumphs and your pain.  I cry with each of you and celebrate your victories as well.  My son is very relaxed about his life with diabetes.  He knows that his momma’s got his back but in covering his back, I hope to also cover many others as well.

Why do I do this? Why do I take on challenges for strangers with diabetes? Why do I take my time and resources to share information, create webcasts, and take part in conferences? Because not everyone can but everyone deserves a voice. I do it because I want to fix it for all of you and it kills me that I can’t.  I want my children to know that I tried for them…and for all of the other children out there who couldn’t do it alone. It really is that simple.

The momma bear in me makes me do it.

The momma bear in me makes me do it.

What if?

Do you ever play that game? You know, the one where you review major or minor things in your life and ask “What if….?”  I do it too often. I find myself at least once a week reflecting on my life, wondering and worrying.

I am a great worrier, as I have said many times, so I will wonder if yelling at my kids that day 12 years ago had an impact on their lives? What if I was more of a June Cleaver kind of mother and was able to step back and come up with a creative solution to the shoes that were constantly left in the middle of the front doorway tripping me up  six million times instead of freaking out and threatening to make them go shoeless? What if…

What if I had realized earlier in that evening almost 25 years ago that the man that I was talking to and thought was a friend of my friend’s was actually a complete stranger? Would I have continued to talk to him, get to know him and later have two children with him? I would have been saved a divorce (maybe) but I would not have had my boys so I guess that one ended the way it should.  The what if is not worth thinking about in that case.

The other night when I was supposed to be sleeping, I was instead running through the “what if’s..”   What if….and this time it was “What if I had breastfed my youngest son for longer?”  I breastfed his brother for much longer and he never developed diabetes. What if…” and suddenly something in my brain shut me down! I was not allowed to continue this train of thought at all. My mind suddenly heard a very loud voice inside say,  “It never happened so live with the now!!!” Yikes!

No cruising down the “what if” lane only to end up at the “guilt depot”? None of it mattered? The past was just that? There was nothing at all to be done or achieved by looking in the rear view mirror?  Holy crap! That was oddly powerful and incredibly smart.

The past is done. Looking back and wondering what if can be amusing.  You can see the butterfly effect in the smallest of details. Looking back and torturing yourself is  a different story.  I have no idea why one child developed Type 1 diabetes as a toddler and one didn’t.  I loved them both equally. I fed them both nutritiously sound meals. It was a crap shoot and one of them sadly ended up having to deal with this crap for the rest of his life.

Would I change it if I could? Of course but guess what? I can’t! I can’t protect my children from broken hearts. I can’t choose their pathes in life. I can’t take away diseases like diabetes.  It just is and to dwell in the past and wonder gets us nowhere.

Focusing on today means that I can learn new techniques and information to keep my son with diabetes healthier.  Focusing on today means that I can help him to live a full and happy life and that is what its all about.  The past is in the rear view mirror. It is nice to look back and remember the good times. It can be important to look back and learn from mistakes but it is not a place to dwell. It is not something that can be changed. It just was and today has too much potential to waste it looking backwards.


Support in the Strangest of Places

I am an avid reader. I have loved to read since I was a child. If I could find a way to read for a living, I would be a very happy and ideally very rich person.  I read everything. I read action books, mysteries, spiritual books, diabetes books, and most recently a book about a mother of a girl who has anorexia.

I am not exactly sure what made me decide to open this book and read it.  Perhaps it is my own struggle with my body image. Perhaps it was the fact that is was a mother telling a story of her struggle with her child’s potentially lethal disease.  Whatever it was, this book quickly showed me that being a parent of a child with a disease–any disease, sadly puts you in a club with more similarities than differences.

Brave Girl Eating by Harriet Brown, first hit home when she wrote “you’re not to blame, you’re not alone, and you can make a difference in your child’s life“.  What a powerful statement! It needs to be a poster in our diabetes clinics.  It is a statement that each and every parent of a child with diabetes needs to fully understand and embrace.  As I have said before, we carry our own guilt and are further burdened by the misconceptions of others. We need to know that we are doing our very best and that is all that any one can ask.

For some reason, Ms. Brown seemed to make more than one comparison of life with anorexia and life with diabetes.  I am not sure if she knew someone living with diabetes or in her research she found some similarities but she does make reference to living with the disease on more than one occasion.  She also makes many statements that could easily apply to living with a child with diabetes.

She talks about feeling overwhelmed by her daughter’s illness and then feeling guilty about it. “I can take a walk, read a book, shut out the anorexia for a little while. But its insider her. She can’t get away, not for a second.” How many  parents of children with diabetes have felt that exact same way? How often have we felt guilty because we could sleep through the night when our child went away to camp or when we went on vacation and left them with a responsible parent or loved one? It hurts us to know that we can leave it behind but our children can’t.

She talks about things like her daughter lying to her about food and again the issue crosses over easily into life with diabetes.  In our case, our children tend to reach an age where they lie about food intake, insulin dosing, or bg level readings.  The violation of our trust is devastating either way and in both cases the lie is brought about by frustrations with a disease. It isn’t any better no matter where it comes from. The pain and sadness as a parent is equally overwhelming.

Ms. Brown talks about wondering if her daughter’s behavior is because of anorexia or simply because she is a teen?  When my son was small and would fall asleep during the day, I would panic and test him.  Was he sleeping because he was a toddler who was tired or was he low and had passed out? If he threw a tantrum, was he being a child full of spite and temper or was his rage fueled by high blood glucose and therefore he may not completely responsible for his actions? How did I decide? How did I find a balance with punishment? Like the author, I struggled.

In Brave Girl Eating, the author also talks about stigma.  In this case the stigma of a mental illness. In diabetes, we know that there are many stigmas and fighting the public’s misconceptions can often be almost as difficult as battling bg levels.  To make things even worse, there are an increased number of people living with diabetes who also are dealing with eating disorders (is it any wonder when their lives revolve around food 24/7) as well as depression.  They must understand this book in more ways than I can begin to imagine.  How painful.

Ms. Brown also speaks to the idea that anorexia has taught her to live in the moment. Ironically diabetes has had a similar effect on my own life.  Learning to live life four hours at a time was the only way for me to cope.  Nothing else mattered. Tomorrow was too far away but his NovoRapid would kick in within four hours and it could fix that high, maintain his perfect reading or be just enough to send him low and create more havoc for me.  Four hours–just get through four hours and then go forward.

As I mentioned, ironically she notes the similarity to diabetes more than once. In learning to live with the new normal of life with anorexia, she wrote, “I told her if she had diabetes, she’d have to test her blood sugar every day; at first it would be a pain, but she’d get used to it.  It would become just one of those things she had to do, like brushing her teeth.  It would become part of “normal” for her.”  We know that diabetes is a bit more than testing daily.  We know that you never really get used to lancing your finger each day, but it is something that has to be done…like brushing your teeth.  It is something that you somehow have to come to accept in order to move forward with your life.

Its funny where you find inspiration and camaraderie. I started this book because I was in part looking for insight into my own body image issues.  I finished this book realizing that parents of children fighting illnesses may have many more similarities than we thought possible.  When we open our minds and our hearts, we find support in the strangest of places.


One School Year Down….

Last September, June seemed so far away.  As my heart was breaking to watch my son go off on his own, he reminded me that it would only be for two school years.  That seemed so long but we have survived the first one.

Somehow I managed to get through an entire school year living in a different city, in a different part of the province from both of my children.  My youngest son managed to handle blood testing, site changes and doctors appointments without me there to organize it all.

With summer finally arriving, my son is more confident in his own care.  I don’t often ask what his readings are.  Even when I do, the answer I always get is “Fantastic!”  I have no idea what his last a1c was.  He handles most of his supplies, refills, and life with diabetes on his own now.

There will be no break for him over the summer. He plans to work in the area where he is living so his trips to see me will be short at best. Our lives have changed.

I now sleep a little easier at night. I still fear for him but I can’t do anything about it when we are so far away so I just have to have faith that all will be okay.

I allow myself to sleep in in the morning. I don’t count the carbs in my food as often as I once did. I still notice pumps. I still keep on top of the research going on in the diabetes world.

I still wonder what my new role is now that job as full-time mom and pancreas has taken on very different hours. Instead of being on the job 24/7, I now remain on call at all hours.  Oddly, that is less demanding and the stress is what you make it.

I have found a new focus…well refocusing on an old issue.  I offer my experiences to those who are interested.  I still find myself at a loss some days wondering who I am now.  It’s a very strange feeling that is hard to explain to others.

I will find my way. My son is finding his.  Our roles are a little different but my children are learning to fly on their own…and they seem to be doing well.  What more can you want?


The Weight of Guilt

As I started to read Ginger Vieira’s book Diabetes Burnout, I was hit by an incredible sense of guilt.  Did I push my son too hard? Did I expect too much? I was later vindicated but I was reminded  the overwhelming guilt that comes with being a parent of a child with diabetes…or maybe its just me.

Well meaning people share with us many “reasons” that children develop diabetes and somewhere in the back of our mind’s ( well my mind anyway) we ask was that it? Was that why my son developed this disease? Did I not breast feed my son long enough? Did I feed him cow’s milk too soon? Was vaccinating on schedule a bad thing? Was there a family history that we missed? I know that I didn’t feed him too much junk.  I know that it wasn’t two years of chocolate bars that did this to him but maybe that first time that he seemed off months before I should have realized that he was seriously ill and that it wasn’t just the flu?

Eventually I realized that I couldn’t spend all of my energy feeling guilty about the “what ifs”.  Diabetes took up enough of my energy on its own…but that led me to a new source of guilt.  Had I denied my other son because diabetes took so much of my energy? My older son never complained but it was a question that popped into my head now and again.  We went to diabetes related events and he met many new friends. He always seemed to have more fun than my child with diabetes.

I was there for my oldest son in his events and activities.  He knew that when there was an issue that required someone to stand beside him, I always did.  I was also there for the softball games, school events, report card days, sick days, and driving school.  I was pretty sure that I had successfully found a balance.

But what about a balance with diabetes and my youngest son? Did it take over everything? Did he hate me because I punished him for diabetes related offenses? Did he feel that I had robbed him of his childhood by focusing on testing and injecting when he wanted to play and forget it all?

My children seem to be well-adjusted. We have memories of family vacations and times spent with each other. We communicate regularly.  I guess I didn’t scar them too badly–I hope.I didn’t have to feel guilty about robbing my children of their childhoods.  Diabetes changed things but it didn’t destroy it.

One other area of guilt seems to always flutter on the sidelines.  I know I am not alone in with this one. I have heard other parents mention it. Its the guilt that comes when our children go away and take diabetes with them.  It’s that time when they go to the other parent’s house, spend the night with a friend or with grandparents.  It’s that time when they go to camp for a week or move away from home. It is then that a new guilt moves in.  I no longer have to think about diabetes 24/7.  Oh I still wake at night. I still look at a meal and automatically count the carbs and dose insulin in my head.  I wonder what my child’s blood glucose level is at any given time.  I worry and wonder if he is taking proper care of himself, but I have a break.  I  don’t really have to be awake at night. I can enjoy that extra glass of wine without fear of dealing with a low later that evening.  I don’t have to remember to test after that walk.  I have it easy.  It’s not fair.  The guilt becomes stifling.

As a parent, I want to carry the burden of this disease for my son but I can’t.  I want to give him a break but I can’t even if I  get one! It doesn’t seem right. I must be a terrible parent…but maybe I am not.

When my son is with me, I help him with care when he wants.  When he has an issue and he is away from me, he calls and asks for help.  We talk about readings…when he is ready.  We talk about other things as well.  I work hard to make diabetes the last thing I ask him about not the first.

Guilt doesn’t get me anywhere. It’s a backwards looking emotion. Life didn’t come with a guidebook.  My children were not born with a manual attached.  I do my best. We all do.  Guilt must be released not harbored…and I do.  I have made mistakes but my kids are okay.  They are strong.  They are relatively healthy.  They are smart.  They do me proud.  Why waste energy with guilt? Move forward and smile.  It’s the only way to go.

Gifts like this make me realize that all is very well indeed.

Gifts like this make me realize that all is very well indeed.

Another Corner Turned

The weekly bg reading review that I had dictated in September has long gone by the wayside. I occasionally ask about readings on the phone or over text conversations but I try to keep it to a minimal.  If my son gets into real trouble, he calls or texts me with his SOS.  Diabetes care is remaining in the periphery of our relationship as he strives to make it on his own. We still talk about care and I still like to know what is going on but I think I truly have turned a corner in my new role and acceptance of it.

A couple of weeks ago, I suggested that we have a phone conversation about his readings in the coming days.  My son told me that he had an upcoming appointment with his CDE.  I then suggested that we wait until after the appointment and then we could discuss what was or wasn’t done and see how we felt about it.

My son thought that was a great idea and we set our new date to chat.  Last week that day arrived.  I knew that my son’s readings had been uploaded by his educator (my son has managed to lose two cables for his pump and I feel bad contacting our rep for a third one). I went online to see what the readings looked like.

As I opened the screen I laughed and laughed.  There were a lot of boluses and insulin cartridge fills but I only saw two readings. I laughed some more! For a change, it was not me who got to look at no data and try to sort things out. It wasn’t me to go…”What gives?” only to be told that he had used other meters but didn’t have them with him. This was not my problem.  I laughed some more.

It felt good to have that burden lifted. Whether there were or were not readings, I was not the one who would bang their head in frustration and begin the tedious task of trying to track down information. The smile remained on my face.

Later that evening I called my son and we discussed his appointment.  It had gone well. He had readings on a different meter and the two of them had discussed the area my son knew was a problem.  My son was pleased that he wasn’t told what to do but asked his opinion on the problem.  Suggestions were made by both parties and my son left happy.

Mom wasn’t needed.  For a change, that felt okay.  My son was happy. He had made his own decisions. He had been able to talk to someone about his care and share his knowledge. It was a win-win situation as far as I could tell.

I will still call and talk readings. I will still be here to troubleshoot and to cheer from the sidelines but my son really is taking charge. He can do this. I always knew he could but the fact that he is doing it makes me feel a bit better…well for today anyway.


Do not clean with soap and water

Today my phone went in for a cleaning. It wasn’t supposed to be cleaned but somehow it stayed in my pocket when the item I had been wearing before my shower went in to be washed.  Something told me to check my pockets before tossing it in soap and water but in my morning fog I forgot.  A little while later, in a bit more of a panic, I checked the now wet pockets. Nothing in the first pocket! Perhaps I was safe.  I checked the submerged pocket…it was heavy.  That could be water weighing it down…Or it could be my phone.  Crap!

I began drying my phone, watching the screen flicker, wondering what I will have lost this time since I hadn’t backed it up, and finally pulling the battery and sticking it in a bag of rice.

I am not sure if my phone will survive. Part of me says, “Yes it will! I caught it early. There wasn’t much dampness in it. It will be fine!” Another part says, “Dude you are screwed! There was some sort of red dye that I wiped off when I was drying it. I am guessing that is one of those markers that tell manufacturers that it was submerged. This is not good. “

Yes, I wanted a new phone. My phone has been acting weird and basically annoying me for months but I want the latest iPhone. I don’t want the current version when a new one will be out a few months after this one. I don’t want to pay for a phone this month that in two months will be free because it is now the older generation.

I won’t get ahead of myself. For now, I remain phone-less for at least the next 24 hours. That feels weird. I have had a cell phone for 14 years now.  It was an essential part of our life with diabetes. It allowed me to be away from home and still in reach of my children or any adult supervising my children. It allowed teachers to call and ask me a question whether I was at home or in a meeting or grocery shopping.

As we learned to text, it allowed my youngest son to send me messages about bg levels or issues he was having when he was away from me.  It allowed me to keep track of what was going on with his diabetes care no matter where either of us were.

Being phone-less means that I can’t do any of these things…at least not as easily.  Previously this situation would have thrown me into complete chaos.  While I am going through personal withdrawals because I like to text someone when I am thinking of them, it is not the catastrophe that I would have once thought it was.

There is a land line that people can reach me on if a life threatening issue arises. I have access to email and online accounts if someone needs to reach out.  I may not answer these questions while I am shopping or running errands but I will get to them at one point.

I am not panicked because my kids cannot immediately call or text.  They can still contact me. They can take care of most issues on their own…even the diabetes related ones.  That is scary! It’s not scary that they can handle things, its scary that I have reached a point that I know that they can! They are not just growing up but I am learning to let them fly!  

It still feels very weird not having my phone (and it has only been two hours!) but it is equally wonderful to know that my kids are okay on their own.  I no longer have to be there to walk them through emergency site changes or trouble shoot a high. My youngest has got this…most of the time and for those other times, well, we will talk about it when we get the chance. 

wet phone