Touch-points

This time of year, many people look back over the past year or decade and reflect what has happened.  I have never been much for celebrating New Year's or making resolutions.  There are touch-points I do have a tendency to reflect on my past and make resolutions for changes or to just do things in my future.  

There are certain touch-points I have created for myself.  Days that I have thought about what my exact circumstances would be when I reached them.  Some are concrete dates and others are achievements.  My 16th birthday, graduation from college, buying my first home, the day my youngest sibling was the age I was when he was born, my wedding day, the day I had my first child, the day my youngest child moves out of my house,...  When I was diagnosed with diabetes, for whatever reason I created two touch-points in my head.  The first was when I had lived with diabetes longer than I had lived without it and the other was when I had lived with diabetes for 50 years.  Today is the day I have officially lived with diabetes longer than I have not (which isn't entirely true as I had obviously had diabetes for a while before I was diagnosed, but if you count when I've known that I have diabetes, today is the day). 

Some of my reflections are just changed that I have seen with diabetes care itself

• Glucose monitors are much improved.  My old Lifescan One Touch II meter seems archaic.  It was relatively huge.  It took 45 seconds and a much larger amount of blood.  It only came in one color, gray.  It was high tech for the time, a feature that allowed you to download it to your computer just came out and had a fairly large memory of how many readings it stored.  The cable was a  9 pt. pin cord.  The program was cumbersome.   Now I mainly use a One Touch UltraMini.  It is small.  It takes a small amount of blood.  It takes 5 seconds.  I have ones in pink, green, and blue.  It doesn't have downloading capability but I don't really want it to.  If I wanted a meter that could do that, I could easily have one.  When I'm really looking at what my blood glucose is doing, I hook up my DexCom SevenPlus (which is several improvements from the DexCom STS, and the MiniMed CGM that only my doctor could see my reading after I brought it back) continuous monitor for however long that sensor is going to work.  I get a new reading every 3 minutes (well, when it isn't having issues).
• I have gone from using as many other were at the time 2 injections a day of R and NPH.  I have used a number of different insulins (Humalog, Novalog, Ultralente (which isn't even made anymore), Lantus, and now Apidra).  I switched to multiplw daily injections then to a pump.  I'm looking at getting my 5th model of pump and nearly 12 years of using pumps.  Syringes have gotten shorter and thinner.  The number of types of infusion sets has increased many fold.
• The DCCT has announced its results and then some follow up studies.  Papers have been written on the DPT-1.
• ACE inhibitors have come on the scene.  Hopefully kidneys will be saved.

Yet, there s no cure.  Type 1 diabetes still kills.  It still steals qality of life.

I've lost an uncle to "dead in the bed" syndrome due to type 1 diabetes.  I've watched another uncle lose more and more physical health to complications of type 1.  I've watched 2 first cousins be diagnosed.  I've watched friends suffer the negative consequences.  I've made friends, some lifelong, because of the common thread of type 1.  I've listened to family, friends, acquaintences, doctors, co-workers, and others blame a person for their medical problems because they have type1.  Humans are not made to be beta cells.  The general lack of understanding of how much is involved in manging or rather living with typ 1 diabetes involves.  That type 1 diabetes is a different disease than type 2.

It is tiring.  Day afater day.  Knowing there will be no day off.  No vacation.  Ever.  The time it takes to "manage", the feeling of crap that happens with glucose swings.  That happen daily, multiple times.

Yesterday and the day before, I spent at the wake and funeral of my aunt.  She passed away unexpectedly.  She was 54.  She was 3 days short of her 33rd wedding annerversary.  She has 2 grandchildren and another on the way.  She is missed.  One minute she was tired but walking to the dinner table, 30 minutes later was was gone.  Life is precious, unpredictable, and short.

I wanted to get something to mark the day.  Something specieal for myself.  I have wanted a SLR camera since high school.  So I have saved, worked extra, and watched for sales.  And I got one.  Something to mark the day, the accomplishement.  I have survived.  I have won some battles, I have lost some.  So far, I'm winning the war.  I'm still fighting which is one of the most important points.  I now have my camera.  Later today a friend and I will go out for a drink or two.  And I will keep going.

I just can't....

Obsidian had a bad day at swimming lessons.  He had a cold and a kid pushed him (nothing out of your normal preschool push, but it scared Obsidian which is understandable as they were sitting at the edge of a pool and the kid was literally 2 ti mes his size).  So Obsidian cried and in general was uncooperative.  This got him kicked out of lessons.  There are no other options for appropriate lessons for him.  He has to either be with the babies (rarely is there a kid over 18 months and none of them swim at the level he does, and I have to be in the water with him.  We go swimming together and frankly I do more with him than they do in the baby class so it is pointless.  The next class up is the one he just got kicked out of).  Swimming lessons are good for Obsidian.  Really good.  In the 6 lessons he had in the previous session, he made amazing progress.  Good progress for any kid, but amazing when you consider him and his typical progress for anything physical.  And it was carrying over to things he did on the land.  (Don't get me going about how he could do well for one session then get kicked out the next because of one bad day, the first lesson he did well.  Everyone said he did well.)  I was told he won't be welcome back until he is closer in size to other kids that take the class.  For Obsidian, this might not be until he is 5 or 6 (as he has grown recently, he is now the size of an average 13 month old, but seeing he is 28 months old, it will be a long time before he is the size of the other kids, most of the time the youngest kids in the class are around 4).  I was, and am, frustrated.  And tired.  And just want to give up.  I cried.  I let myself have a bad day.  Then I Face.booked someone I know about doing private swim lessons with Obsidian.  I've known her since she was 5.  I taught her how to ride a bike.  I taught her swimming lessons.  I baby sat her and her brother and sister.  She has now been teaching swimming lessons for 10 years (which vaguely makes me feel old that she has taught lessons for so long).  Her current work and school schedules are changing, but after that she will start with him.  My preference would be that Obsidian would be with other kids when he is learning how to swim, but since that is not possible, having him in swimming lessons period is what needs to be done.  So within 24 hours, I had an acceptable solution. 

But, I'm tired.  I don't want to deal with this.  Now or ever.  Yet I know, there will be many more problems that will arise for Obsidian.  That I will have to fight for.  And for Pyrope.  That I will have to fight for.  And I'm tired.  And I don't want to.  But I have to. 

After I was diagnosed with diabetes, I had people tell "I could never handle it.  I just couldn't give myself an injection.  I would die."  My response has always been.  "You could if you needed to."  After it became obvious that Pyrope is not developing typical and then when Obsidian had his more obvious issues the comments started with them.  "I could never have a child with special needs.  I just couldn't do it."  You could.  I didn't choose any of these situations.  I wouldn't choose them for myself and particularly for my kids, but it is what it is.

A friend from childhood was one of the most adequate people that she "could never give herself a shot".  After a series of miscarriages, she found out that she needed to take shots to give herself a chance to carry a baby to term.  During her first successful pregnancy, her husband gave her the shots.  The "I could never give myself a shot" continued, if not increased.  The next pregnancy, her husband giving the shots was the plan.  However, the day the first shot was needed, he froze.  He couldn't do it.  Several hours of talking, tears, and arguing later, he still wouldn't do it.  My friend had a moment of light that if she didn't just give herself the shot, that her child would not live.  And she gave herself the shot.  Her husband never gave her another shot.  She called me shortly after the incident and told me I was right.  She could give herself a shot.  She had to, so she did.

So as I spent Saturday wanting to quit, to not have a child with different/special issues from your typical kid, I thought about what that would entail.  My children wouldn't be any different.  They would still have their issues.  I could just "give up" and not find a different way for Obsidian to have swimming lessons.  I could just let Pyrope not get speech services or go to school in a typical kindergarten without needed supports to make him safe.  However, they would not have the best chance to excel at life and school if I did this.  I could choose to ignore my diabetes.  But I wouldn't have the best health that is possible.

So I just can't quit.  I want to.  But I can't.  At least not today.

Embarrased

So after I had my milkshake, I used a nifty A1c Now test to check my control over the past 2-3 months.  I love that in 5 minutes I know what it is.  I love that it is in complete privacy.  No one else knows it.  It was embarrassingly high.  My highest ever.  I wasn't expecting it to be good.  But I wasn't expecting that either.  I took a picture.  For the first time in I don't know how long, I had the picture printed.  It is now hanging on my bathroom mirror.  In a month, I'll do it again.  While it measures your last 2-3 months average glucose, it is more weighted towards the most recent, and I should see a change in a month.

Sometimes I hate this disease.  I really do.

Sweet Sixteen

At just exactly about the time this will be published, 16 years ago I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes.  In many ways, I don't know where to start, or what to say.  Sometimes, in some ways, it still seems surreal.  Most of the time, I can gleefully imagine what my life might be like if I was cured, but diabetes is so currently woven so tightly in with my life it is just part of me.

Because of how sick I was when I was diagnosed, the memories surrounding that time are fuzzy or just plain missing.  Which is very unusual for me.  It is not that these are faded memories, I was so sick, even at the time I couldn't remember what had just occurred.  There are two moments that I very clearly remember making conscious decisions that really have affected how I have lived my life since them.  In some ways they are related to diabetes, but in others they are entirely independent and not really related.  If my diabetes were to be cured tomorrow, both of these decisions would still have a drastic affect on my life.

The first was on the drive to the hospital.  I clearly remember looking out the window and pondering what was happening.  I thought I had 2 options with dealing with my diagnosis.  The first was to be a huge pain and let everyone know how unhappy I was about it, be as big of a pain as I could, and try to avoid to do anything related to diabetes.  The second was I could accept that I had diabetes.  I didn't have to be happy about it, but I didn't have to make everyone around me as miserable as possible as well.  I could learn all I could, and live the best way I knew how with the knowledge I had, trying to minimize the impact it had on me and everyone around me.  I thought about the first option so more.  While it sounded good to let everyone else know how miserable I was about it, I figured it would make me more miserable-- not less.  Making others miserable would not really make me feel better.  I would most likely miss out on a number of things I enjoy because I would be too unhappy to participate/enjoy them or my parents would let me go if I didn't have the knowledge to take care of myself.  On the other hand, option 2 sounded like a lot of work.  I really was not happy about the situation in general.  Within a few minutes, I decided that option 2 was the path I was going to take, no matter how hard it would be at times.  For the most part, I've stuck with this decision.  Don't get me wrong, I whine about diabetes, sometimes more than others.  But I don't try to make others miserable about it, and I try to be as educated as I can.

The second decision came my way by the life of a 5 month old baby boy.  He and I were the only two "long term" patients on the pediatric floor of this hospital.  Other kids would be in for a night, but that was about it.  I was there for 6 days.  I have no idea how long the baby was there for, he was there before I was admitted, and he was there after I went home.  After my first 24 hours where I was seriously ill, I was bored.  Really bored.  Being the oldest of 5, and always in the position of caring for others, I naturally started playing with him if for no other reason to kill the time.  He didn't cry, he didn't eat, he didn't do much of anything.  No one came to visit him.  (I had my first visitor less than an hour after I was admitted...)  At first I just "flirted" with him, then I asked to hold him, then I asked to try to feed him the bottle that he was refusing from everyone.  With some discussion between the nurses and residents, they decided that they probably should not let me try to feed him, but on the other hand he had been refusing to eat and unless someone could get him to eat he was going to have to be tube fed.  Seeing he was responding to me by this point but no one else, I was given the bottle.  And he ate.  The next time it was bottle time, he once again refused from the nurse but immediately took it from me.  The older nurse looked at the young resident and said "See, I told you what is wrong with him is he is dying from lack of love."  I remembered thinking, "THAT is the bottom of the barrel.  To be literally dying from lack of love.  I know I will never be that low.  There will always be someone worse off than me no matter what happens."  And that idea has stayed with me.  No matter how rough things are for me, in the back of my head, I think of that baby.  I think of how old he is now.  And I say a prayer for him.  A prayer for others, particularly babies and the elderly, who feel so unloved they are literally dying.  I say a prayer of thanksgiving that I have so many that love me and that I love.  And no matter what, at that point my problems seem just a little smaller, and a little more manageable.

So I've done it.  16 year of me and diabetes.  Time to go get a milkshake (my yearly celebration, someone made the mistake of telling me that I would never be able to have a milkshake again, so I've made it a point for having one every year to mark the day... and I've got quite talented at bolusing the right amount so it doesn't take my glucose levels all over the place).

Maddening

Today I got a call from my "health care coach".  I get one every month, or maybe it is 6 weeks.  I try to forget.  At any rate, if I talk to my "coach" at whatever the prescribed interval is, I get a significant discount on some of my diabetes medications (some I don't have to pay co-pays, some my cap is lifted, some both, which leaves the things that are not covered a whole lot easier to swallow).  Some of my "coaches" I've had through the various carriers I've been covered under I've liked more than others.  This one I don't like.  At all.  And I don't think she likes me.  However, until our coverage is changed again, she and I will be talking regularly.

She started with my goal is to get my A1c lower.  Yeah.  She then said that I need to work on not having so many highs and lows.  That would be spectacular.  The conversation quickly went downhill from there.  We only got to about lunchtime in my daily routine before she ended the painful conversation.  I know it will be continued at a later date.  I know I got labeled "non-complaint" or "argumentative" or some similar negative labels in my chart.  Her basic suggestions were that I do the same thing every day.  Eat the same (or similar) foods at the same time each day, at regular intervals.  That I should get up at the same time each day.  That I should have a similar activity level at the same time each day.  I don't do well on any of these things.  That is why I have a pump.  That is why I accept the negative parts of pumping.  I'm not going to get up at 5 am every morning because on the mornings I work this is what time I have to wake up.  I have not the faintest idea how I would keep my activity level the same on a day to day basis.  I have a physically demanding job, and some days it is much more physically demanding than others.  On days that Pyrope has preschool and the weather is nice enough (and really this means that it isn't freezing cold, raining hard, icy, or really windy) I ride my bike 3 miles round trip to drop him off, then 3 miles round trip to pick him up.  On the nights that Jet gets home at a reasonable time, I try to go run a 5k.  Twice a week I take the kids swimming by myself.  Then throw in the Parent & Tot classes of anything from gymnastics to ice skating (depending on current age, interest, and schedule), outings, and random hikes and bike rides, it is rare that I do things the same two DAYS in a row, let alone every day.  And how do I account for the general increase/decrease my body needs of insulin depending if I'm pre/post ovulation?  I know some people that are creatures of habit, they do close to the same thing every day.  The do close to the same thing every day at work.  In some ways it would serve me well to be more of a creature of habit, but I'm not.  I tried for a while, and I was a miserable person who still wasn't great at following the same patterns.   If I didn't have diabetes, doctor's wouldn't care much about this.  But since I do, many doctors and medical professionals put all kinds of negative labels on me.  I'm not a pancreas.  I do my best to think and function like one, but I'm not great at it.  It is maddening to talk in these circles.  Sometimes I think maybe I should "listen" to them and try to be more scheduled.  And then I think, no.  I don't know how to live my life, or if I really could have the life I have now if I had one schedule I had to follow day in and day out.  I couldn't have the current mainly SAHM but work when I need to lifestyle.  I couldn't ride my bike randomly with my kids (where I live it is not an option to do it year round).  I would have to give up running or find a sitter for my kids.  I would have to find a job in a different area of my profession.  I would need my ovaries removed.  For all of the problems I have with my life, I really do like it, and I don't want those types of drastic changes.  So I think I will for the time being continue with the game of talking and disagreeing with my "coach".  Or maybe I'll switch strategies and agree with what she says/suggests, then completely ignore what she said.  The latter being the path of least resistance if I can manage to stomach it.

Slowly

The reasons I set goals for myself each year, and why I need to review my progress towards them, is clear this month.  They are goals because they are not something I'm doing now and I need to make an effort to change my behavior so I can reach them.  And I need to review my progress towards them because I don't necessarily make the changes, or maybe the correct changes to meet my end goal, just because I set the goal.  It is something I need to keep working on.

I didn't start running again.  I dropped a ratchet wrench and broke my toe. Then less than a week later because of how I was favoring the foot with the broken toe, I sprained my ankle.  This coming Monday I'm starting to run again.

Diabetes goals have cone somewhat the way of the running.  My A1C the when I went to the doctor earlier in the month was the exact same it was in June.  Blech.  I'm going to do a home kit of the test on my anniversary later this month.  I doubt it will be much lower, but I need to start testing more to start getting it lower.

So in this past month I lost 4 lbs.  I would have liked to lose more weight, but if I look at it seriously, I'm content with this pace of weight loss.  1 lb a week will get me to my goal in 30 weeks, more or less.  Looking at it that way, that isn't that long.  I can do it, I can do it, I can do it.

My book goal, and not reaching it for the month was a little bit of a shock.  Reading is such a good release for me, I'm somewhat amazed that I've slipped that far away from it that I'm struggling to reach such a low for me goal of 4 books a month.  I used to easily do that in under a week.  I was also amazed at the effort it was taking me to expand to new kids books.  My kids are enjoying the different books but it is so easy to just read the same ones over and over again.  There are so many books that we even own that I just haven't been dipping into and reading to them.  And they love getting a whole stack of different books when we go to the library.  So this one I have been able to do easily.

So I'm getting to my goals.  Slowly, with revisions of how I'm going to get there.

Breath taking

As a senior in college, I went on a canoeing trip for spring break.  It was on the Green River, in a fairly remote region.  It was a 6 day trip, and after the first day or so, if we needed help, either someone would have to go to our destination, we would have to paddle upriver, or would have to hike up river along the banks.  Knowing my dad and how he worried, particularly with my diabetes in mind, I neglected to tell him of my spring break trip.  I was well prepared, and carried supplies that my trip-mates could help me in a large number of situations.  I took all of the precautions I could, but I decided that it was a risk I wanted to take to go on the trip.  It was a great trip, I'm glad I did it.  My dad (and family in general) never found out about it until my husband was showing my dad pictures, and pulled out that album and to look at.  My dad shook his head, but didn't say much (my dad finding out about the trip is chronologically after he had cancer).

A little over 5 years after my canoeing trip, my dad was diagnosed with a pretty deadly form of cancer.  He made it through a surgery that bought him some extra time.  A consequence of the surgery was he was then diabetic and needed to take insulin.  What his goal was after the surgery was to hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon again (he had done it once before, maybe a couple years earlier).  Before he was even allowed to drive after the surgery, he was having my sister drive him to the Y so he could walk on the treadmill and exercise so he could take the trip.  That winter he worked out all of the time with that goal in mind.  Early that spring, he was visiting Jet and I (we were living in a different state at the time), and I asked when he was going to hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon.  His jaw dropped.  He asked me how I knew.  I was slightly confused.  He was leaving the next day for a routine "business trip" (this was the whole story everyone was getting, including my mom).  My dad then elaborated about the details of his business trip.  He was traveling for work, but before the work portion was to start, he was hiking down, spending the night at a camp at the bottom, then hiking back up to the top.  Apparently, many people had been telling him that he either couldn't or shouldn't try.  His oncology doctor and I were the only two people who supported him with this goal.  He asked his endocrinologist how to adjust his insulin for the hike.  She refused to give suggestions of how to do this because she didn't think he should do it.  So he simply made the decision to not tell anyone before the trip.  He was amazed I figured it out (I really didn't connect his business trip with the hike, but I was just asking how he was doing getting to his goal).  Less than a week later, I received a post card from him.  He sent it from the bottom of the canyon, and it started its trip being carried up by mule.  Others got cards as well.  Friendly ones to my mom and each of my siblings.  A thank you one to his oncologist for supporting him, both on his cancer journey and believing that he could do the hike.  And a postcard to his endo that simple read "Ha. Ha. I did it."  My dad was so happy about the trip, and proud of the fact that he hike down and back up 6 months after his surgery.  Jet was once again around when my dad was explaining the postcards he sent when my dad and I were talking about his trip.  Jet dully observed that the apple doesn't fall from the tree (mainly in regards to the "Ha. Ha." card).  3 months after his trip, my dad passed away from the cancer.

It is now 6 years later, and the immediate sharpness of losing my dad has faded, but occasionally things happen when I'm least expecting it that remind me of him.  Sometimes they take my breath away.

Last week, I was reading Post Secret.  The last post card was from an oncology nurse.  She sent in a post card from the Grand Canyon.  A patient of hers that had cancer and her promised each other that whoever got the the Grand Canyon first would send a post card.  The nurse made it there, but the patient had passed away, so she sent the post card to Post Secret.  It took my breath away for a second.  I was sad about missing my dad, and sad that this other person never got to see the Grand Canyon while walking this earth.  I also thought about the "Ha. Ha." to the one doctor and the "Thank you" to the other.  I thought about how deeply as health care professionals we can touch people, and how our patients can touch us.  I dug out my postcard.  I showed it to Obsidian.  He said "Big hole."  I told him that when he is older, we might go there (the closest I've been to the Grand Canyon is the confluence of the Green and Colorado Rivers).  The tree to apple grown into a tree, to the next apple have to connect somehow.

Tonight on Facebook, I saw that friend posted that her mom who had terminal cancer was released from the hospital and that tomorrow she and her two children were going to fly to see her.  2 hours later she posted again, her mom had passed away.  While my friend knew her mom had terminal cancer, she was hoping her mom would still be here in the spring when she is due with her 3rd child.  I missed my dad some more, and wished he could have met my kids.  My due date with Pyrope was exactly the 1 year anniversary of my dad passing away.  One of my dad's last lucid thoughts was that he didn't want the day he died to always be a day to be sad and mope.  I've tried to honor that, and when I found out my due date it took my breath away, but it seemed appropriate.  I've been thinking tonight, maybe I'll try to hike down there with the boys when they are older on the anniversary (I would have to look into what the weather conditions are generally like that time of year).  I've been thinking of the first days after my dad passed away and the sharpness, I would not have been able to take seeing the Post Secret card with the peace that I did in those early days.  I've been thinking about the breath taking moments my friend will have.  And I'm praying for God to carry my friend and her family closely right now.

Annual review and goals

Each year around my birthday, I make some goals for myself, and review my "bucket list" of what I have done, and anything I want to add to it.

The only thing I was able to check off this year on my bucket list was complete a triathlon.  I did it in 1 hour and 58 minutes.  Although I had no official goal other than completing it, I was hoping to be under 2 hours.  I did, barely.  There was only 1 person who finished after me.  I was surprisingly not that sore afterward.

 Also on my bucket list is to take a cake decorating class so I can decently finish my cakes.  I'm a decent to good baker.  I enjoy baking.  However when I go to frost my cakes, they come out less than great.  I have read some website and learned how to make and use fondant.  My cakes are looking much better, but I still would really like to take a class.  So progress was made, but I can't check this one off.

So looking ahead to this next year, what I would really like to work towards on my list is getting my SLR camera.  I would somewhat like to get this for living more time with diabetes than not.  Financially, it isn't so smart.  I'm not much of a coupon clipper/user.  I have been thinking of trying to do this more and anything I save by using coupons put in a fund for my camera.  My true goal on my bucket list is to take a photography class, but in many ways I would like to have my camera before taking the class so I can use it while in the class.  Maybe I could take the class next summer, I have more consistent baby sitters during the summer that I could get away for the class and do the homework.

Another item I have on my list is to keep a daily journal for a year.  While at least this point I'm not planning on posting daily, and a blog is not exactly a journal, it is closer to one than anything else.

Moving on to my general goals for this coming year:

My diabetes was a lot easier to control while I was training for the triathalon.  I told myself I was going to keep up on the running, but I haven't.  I really need to do this.  However, knowing me, I need to find another race and sign up for it.  I need a tangible immediate goal.  In high school I used to consistently run 5k's in the 22-23 minute range.  The 3 mile race I ran in June I did in 28:11.  So my goal is to run a 5k race at least once every 3 months, and be running it in the 26 minute range by next summer.

Get and keep my A1c in the 7's (Note: A1c is a 3 month measure of how well your diabetes is being controlled).  I know the official position of the ADA is now UNDER 7, in light of my hypoglycemia unawareness, for me 7's is a better goal.  When I get into the 6's, I have a LOT more lows, which are dangerous in themselves.

Along the same lines, I need to lose 30 lbs to get to my ideal body weight.  I haven't consistently weighed that amount since my freshman year of college (I did briefly weigh that amount during my first 18 months I was married, when I'm stressed I either over eat or under eat, and I was definitely doing the under eating for some time).  I know getting to that weight and maintaining it will help with both my exercise goal and my A1c goal. I'm not fond of low carb diets, but they are the ones that really work best for me on several levels.  I do a modified South Beach Diet.  The weight doesn't come off fast, but it does come off slowly and consistently, particularly if I am also regularly exercising.

Read 50 books.  Reading is a way I relax as well as learn things.  Since Obsidian has been born, I just haven't made the time to do this.  And I miss it.  Before Pyrope was born, I regularly read over 1,000 pages a week.  This past year I bet I barely topped 3,000 pages for the year.  This gets to be about 4-5 books a month.  I should be able to do this with minimal effort.

Read the kids 100 books they have never read before.  This would be 8-9 new books a month.  We go to the library typically once a week, I can easily get 2 different books each time, even just reading them there.  Pyrope in particular asks questions and wants details about so many different things, it would be good to help look at different subjects.  I'm sure I will read many books multiple times, and that is good for them.  I sometimes get into a rut though and never work to expand and explore different books.  This is laziness on my part.

So that is my year in review and looking ahead to the next.

Meanings of words

In recent years there has been a campaign to remove the "r word" from common American vernacular.  Most of the time the actual word (retarded if you are wondering) is not even used in the discussions.  I am completely against using it in a derogatory way, particularly when describing people (or situations) that are not "intellectually disabled" or "developmentally delayed" or "cognitively impaired" or whatever other phrase is now used to describe people who have below average intelligence.  Before retarded was the word to describe below average intelligence, the words "imbecile" and "idiot" were the official words.  So perhaps in a generation the "r word" will not be so closely thought of as people with low intelligence as that has not been how they are officially referred to as, but will it just be replaced by another word(s).  What the true problem is the disrespect and negative attitude some people have towards people with lower intelligence.

While it is not exactly the same, frequently my thoughts then turn to the "diabetic vs person with diabetes", "epileptic vs person with epilepsy", "obese vs a person of size", or "dwarf vs little person" debates.  Personally, I have no issue with being called diabetic.  I find it similar to being called a brunette.  No one would call me "a person with brown hair".  I'm called a "mother" not "a person who has children".  Yet I do know people who are very offended by being called "diabetic" instead of a person with diabetes.  Their argument is that they are not defined by their disease and take it very personally when they are called a diabetic.  My argument is that it is an adjective that describes me.  I don't want to have diabetes, but it is something that describes me.  And really even defines and shapes me.  While I don't let it rule what I do, it does effect what I do and how I do it and how I view the world.  Even though this is how I feel about the words, for the most part I use the politically correct terms (for many, many things I could care less about being PC).  Most of the time, I think there are a whole lot more important issues to talk about than these semantics.  It goes with one of my parenting and life philosophies "Is this worth making it an issue?"  And for this particular issue, my answer is "no".  I do enjoy getting into a healthy debate about it with people I can talk with rationally. 

So while I find the term "mental retardation" (used in the correct context) not offensive, I have been making an effort to not use the "r word".