My wife and I are finally able to perform the morning launch sequence(aka getting the kids out the door) in unison which is much better for everyones mental well being. However, we still need to get up that extra fifteen minutes, then again as my wife would say, even if we did get up earlier the kids would find some way to squander the time away and we'd be wasting our time redirecting them and keeping them on task.
Apparently two of our kids have ADD/ADHD, which we were in denial for along time about. But when compared to the undiagnosed kids it is obvious who needs more structure and redirection especially in the morning when all are groggy and half asleep. Add to this two type one kids and a toddler, well, if you read my blog or have your own crazy house-o-kids then it's pretty hairy.
Anyway back to me and my seriously bummed out incident.
So as I was performing my short order cook duties, cooking Alpha Ghetti for the lunches, making french toast, and scrambled eggs for breakfast, and my wife was whipping up wardrobes and hair styles for our five girls. This is how it went down....
We yell, "Come sit down for breakfast" they all come stumbling into the kitchen, "go sit down I said, as they are wandering to the four corners of the family room and not the table. I say "Grace, grab some forks, and Abby, sit down already, geez go get some socks on (let you guess the one with the above Diagnosis)" All the while the Goob(3 yr old) is attached to my pants telling me about her my little pony and asking for a drink.
We finally all sit down, it is 8:30, and time for departure is 8 min give or take a minute or two.
"Rowan, did you test you're sugar? Like I asked." As she has syrup dripping down her figures. Up from the table, wipe the hands, test the sugar, phew, 5.6mmol(multiply by 18 for the USA) program the bolus, even though I should have done this 20 minutes ago, oh well doing the best we can here.
Finally, I grab my testing stuff, insulin, etc and sit down to my delicious looking plate of scrambled eggs and french toast. Test and 22.5 mmol. Ahhh man. That sucks, I was so looking forward to the french toast. I felt like a pouting little kid being told I couldn't eat the candy. But I knew I had to give up my french toast.
I glance over to my wife and ask, "you wanna trade my french toast for your eggs?" She knew, and said okay, we swapped and I wolfed down breaky to get all where there needed to go on time.
I am obviously still bummed about the french toast, but at least I know I made the right choice because 2 hrs later my sugar is 5.8 mmol.
The sacrifices us PWD have to make I tell ya!