1. Our local chapter of the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation hosting a pancake breakfast. Let it be known that Type 1s can have pancakes. They may eat anything they want if they inject themselves with the proper amount of insulin. But pancakes are difficult to account for, as are bagels and pizza, rice and potatoes. The glycemic index mixes with the fat content to produce a blood sugar unpredictability that I, for one, avoid when possible. Maybe I would have forgiven JDRF for this fundraiser had it not been for our one visit to their office. At an open house, they served--wait for it--chocolate cake. And soda. And boxes of chocolates. Once again: Type 1s can have their cake and eat it, too. Theo has desserts often. Yet an organization devoted exclusively to the management of blood sugars could maybe come up with something other than cake, chocolates and pop to serve. I pulled out the calculator near Theo's cake, and said, half-jokingly, "You're going to tell us the ca...
"Maybe I shouldn't have blogged about the paperboy the day before Valentine's Day," I mused aloud. "Yup," said Greg. "Not the current one," I protested. "I know which one you meant." "How do you know?" "The one you had a thing for," he said, not bothering to look up from the paper, which had been delivered right to our door. "Thing" being a general term, Greg's not worried. We've been together since the day in July 1991 he told me he liked me. Greg knows pretty much every thing going through my busy brain, and yet he sticks around. He wakes up early to herd the kids off to school, because he knows I can't function if I don't sleep past 7. He listens at night when I'm talkative and he's tired. He works hard and makes time for the kids. His music is smart and his jokes are funny. He gets a big grin on his face when we're able to have the rare date. He encourages me to follow the pa...
Theo, age 8, spent the summer collecting frogs and tadpoles from a nearby creek. With the help of his friend Ethan, who is 9 and can answer any and all questions on amphibians, Theo learned to distinguish leopard frogs from tree frogs, and studied their development daily on our back deck. Theo was so enamored with the whole operation that he wanted to purchase some more exotic strains. We visited a Pets Mart and hovered near a tank until a saleswoman came by. The right saleswoman, I should say; with disheveled hair and wire-frame glasses favoring one ear, this woman was all about the frogs. She hunched forward as if to let out a call that might travel the road back to our creek. My main concern was the amount of upkeep these $30 pets would require. "What do these frogs need, because our frogs from the creek...," I started to say, and immediately realized I had violated a sacred rule: removing the animal from its natural habitat. I tried to play it off. So did she--at first. ...
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