“I’m so glad you didn’t exercise this morning. It’s nice that I didn’t have to share you with the other Wii-man.”
I will let you guess who.
From 231 to 205.6 (this morning in fact). I think the wife is secretly pleased I am seeing the Wii. 135 hours of video games in all of their flab reducing, omentum shrinking, belt tightening (3 notches) goodness. And here comes the holiday season. . .
So the boy has been thrilled with his ability to read signs of late. Whilst driving recently, we practiced reading the signs on the buildings together.
“What’s that sign say?” I asked.
“Big Apple!” he replied.
“And that one?”
“And that one?”
“Game Stop!” (though I think he knew that one already from visits…)
A brief pause, then….
“Dad, what’s that sign – the one that says H…O…O…T…E…R…S..?”
“That’s not a sign we are going to read today, son.”
Sleep deprivation seems to get more difficult as I get older.
So I had to go to a conference, and how sad is this – I put two towels over a phone book and did the Wii fit step routine for 45 minutes one night. After the conference, I came home, dreading what I knew was coming. I turned on the TV, plugged it all up, braced for impact, and was met with my ‘snarky’ welcome home message.
I didn’t dare breathe a word about the phone book. The Wii seems to have gotten over it pretty quickly because the next frame it was complaining about Aunt Jen again… (Thanks Aunt Jen!)
In the meantime, the birthday rolled around (remind me to post the Wii comments on that one later).
Thanks to a wide variety of contributions, I made a purchase that encourages healthy habits, assists me with weight loss, and improves my metabolism. Yes, you guessed it, Call of Duty: World at War.
Lately my faithful companion – the large carpet we affectionately call a cat – has been at my feet while I have been Wii fitting and making my way through each Pacific Island of the campaign. Last night he was asleep but dreaming up a storm and making odd noises whilst he slept. I could only wonder what he was dreaming. . .
“I LOVE going to church” exclaimed the boy to his sisters, “because we get to eat bread!”.
“Is that the ONLY reason you like to go?” inquired one of the sisters.
“No, we get to eat goldfish too..” he replied.
Yesterday marked the beginning of Hanna’s insulin pump start. For anyone who doesn’t know, Hanna’s pump will deliver insulin to her via a tiny site (about the size of a quarter) that has a small, felixble cannula beneath the skin. We change this site every 2-3 days but in the meantime, it delivers insulin to her subcutaneously 24 hours a day. Needless to say, we *heart* this device. (And again, a big shout out to the really smart people out there designing this stuff!)
For those of you wondering how something like this works for an active 8 year old, let me tell you, Hanna has already jumped on the trampoline, played basketball, danced an hour of hip hop & acro all without even noticing she was “attached” to the pump. Yesterday when we checked into the hospital for our required “23 hours of observation” we played a game I like to call “Now you see it, Now you don’t!”
Despite the interesting site changes we’ve experienced (it does take some practice just like doing shots required practice 4.5 years ago) Hanna says she much prefers pumping. We much prefer the numbers, the flexibility and pretty much everything else too. Afterall, when you’ve done 5 shots a day for as long as Hanna has, there’s no real argument that one site change every 3 days is an improvement. 😉
Oh and the walrus (Hanna named him Alex) was a gift for Hanna from Beth, our wonderful pump rep. (who incidentally also stuck a site in her OWN tummy yesterday morning to make Hanna feel better about the whole thing). Thank you, Beth!! Alex represents just one of the many accoutrements that came with this process to ease the transition. Hanna has also been racking up a collection of cell phone holders, SPIbelts and other groovy accessories to facilitate fashion-forward pumpwearing. Stay tuned — I’m sure she will be happy to pose for some additional photos debuting said items in the days ahead.
Last weekend we needed to wash Spencer’s lambie — a task I tend to put it off as long as possible despite my germphobia due to the disasterous consquences should anything go awry during the washing process. Also, bear in mind, I use the term “Lambie” quite loosely because it is now more like a lambie fragment.
I gently hand washed Lambie in the sink (gave him a ‘bath’) and then gently placed it on the drier rack (for some time at the ‘spa’). Despite some initial anxiety about the whole process, by the end of the day, the proof was in the pudding (clean lambie love).
“Mom, can you wash my Lambie every day?”
The time has finally come for Chloe to start her saline trial — wait, who’s Chloe? No, we didn’t have another baby since my last post, Chloe is Hanna’s doll who graciously allowed us to use her as a model for our classroom demo of Hanna’s pump. The alternative was having Hanna hike her dress up to show everyone which, being that it is such a poor second choice, we are grateful to Chloe for taking one for the team. I *thought* I knew how to hook her up and it would only take a second — I am proud to say that after reading no less than THREE manuals (the infusion set, the pump quick guide and the owners manual) I managed to get a great site inserted on the first try. (Seeing as how we get a fixed amount of these sets per month, our insurance salutes you, Chloe!)
At first I was worried about sending the doll to school with $7,000 of medical equipment clipped to her khakis until the revelation hit me that come Monday I’ll be sending my child to school similarly equiped and I’d better get over it now.
So for better or for worse, Chloe is off on her big adventure tomorrow! We’ll let you know how she enjoys third grade.