No help, no time.

That would be this week in a nutshell.

Not that I can blame anyone. That's not even entirely true. I did have one friend offer to come help me clean and organize so I could get on top of things (does that ever really happen?). But, then I remembered Sophie's first follow-up appointment was that morning. So, she watched Jossie and Norah while I took her. Good thing too, because it was almost 2 1/2 hours long! More of the same..."How do you define Diabetes? How do you prime her needles? What do you do when she's 'high'? How should you treat when she's 'low'? How many carbs should she have before exercise? Don't forget, if she doesn't exercise right away after those carbs, she should have a shot."

Yes, yes, I got it.

My questions: Are her eyes going to fail? Does she need to see an opthamalogist? Oh, she could have a lot of cavities from this? Are you sure I shouldn't wake her in the night to test? How will I know if she's having a seizure in the middle of the night? (reply: You'll hear her knocking into the headboard. Yep, pit in stomach returns).

And then there's what I couldn't ask in front of her: Are these mood swings of hers normal? Am I just being manipulated, or does she really feel that bad? Do we need counseling?

So I politely said instead: "Yeah, we're adjusting just fine."

Each morning, I wake up optimistic. I think about how I'm going to take charge of the day, and we're all going to be happy, prayerful, peaceful, etc.

Then someone screams at me, then someone else desperately needs me at the same time, and someone else spills something, or pees on something, and then I need to test blood sugar, and prepare a meal, count carbs, give shots, etc.

Why can't I keep up with the laundry, the dishes, the clutter, my personal time, giving some attention to my husband, and making each child feel equally important through it all? I don't know.

Today actually ended better than most. I was getting flustered, as usual. I declared that everyone in the house was going to use calm voices and there would be no more yelling, including from me. (I know, you can't imagine me ever yelling. I hope you do feel that way, and I hope you keep that image of me). And we agreed that even Mommy and Daddy would have consequences if we yelled. They thought that was pretty funny. And then, for whatever reason, (well probably for the reason I just mentioned) the yelling stopped.

Jossie for the rest of the day kept catching herself and going, "oh, I meant to say, 'Mommy can you please help me?'" And Sophie kept trying to help around the house, and worked much harder at being peaceful. And somehow Norah must have caught on and blessed me with a little peace as well. I needed it. Truely.

Sophia really hates it when she gets moody. She's been very self-depricating when she's in a funk. It's a bit concerning. It's so extreme at times, and so sad to watch, yet so maddening too, because I can't let her set the standard in the house that screaming, hitting and throwing things are acceptable behaviors. She always apologizes later, and says things like, "sorry I was stressing you out." Or "Sorry I made us have a bad day." Even her apologies make me sad.

This too shall pass, right?

I have to just pray for them all. God is sufficient to get us through.

The details of diabetes are getting easier, but we'll still take all the prayers we can get.