Well, no wonder...

O has an ear infection...in both ears.

What a difference six weeks make...

This picture was taken the day before Olivia was diagnosed. She didn't feel good and it was not a good day. When I look back at pictures taken over the months leading up to her diagnosis, I am blown away by how ill she looks. She looks happy in this picture, but I know better and it is hard for me to look at it.

Fast forward to mid-March...

This is the picture of a happy girl, a girl who feels better.

We went to the beach for a few days with Marc's family. Olivia loved it all. The sand, the ocean, her cousins, the zoo...She could not have had a better time. And her dad and I did pretty well with first post-diagnosis trip planning and the travel. Everything went well.

And then we came home. And Olivia got sick. Just a cold, but she was miserable and I was freaked. Her blood glucose has been all over the place and she has been spilling ketones. We've been told by the endo and her pediatrician that things are not nearly as bad as they could have been, which is small comfort seeing as how uncomfortable she has been. The cold over the weekend was bad enough, but the high blood sugars these last few days might have been even worse. She woke last night not long after I put her down and could hardly be consoled. We brought her to our room and tried to get the three of us settled in our little double bed (soon to be HISTORY as soon as I can figure out what kind of queen size bed we want. Any opinions on how comfortable we might find a platform bed?). I was at a loss for what to do. I had already given her some short-acting Humalog and was afraid to give her more, as she has been going low each night. She cried and cried, quieting only slightly while I was holding her. She lost it when I left the room to get her water, to turn off a light, to go the bathroom. She was completely out of sorts, screaming one minute for, "Water!" and the next, "No water!" The entire night, she pinched and squeezed my neck and chest and plucked at the skin beneath my fingernails, things she did constantly during the time leading up to her diagnosis.

She seems slightly better this morning, though a couple of bites of breakfast sent her up almost to 300. She wouldn't let me put her down at the park and had no interest in walking with Moose. This is not the child that I have known the last few weeks. We are going to try cutting back on her Levimir in order to combat the nighttime lows and counter the highs with more Humalog. I hate that this means more injections. But hopefully, this will get her back to the singing and dancing she's been doing for the last month.

Dear Super-Agreeable Ambulatory Toddler-Like Life Form Who Disappeared From Our House Today:

I miss you.
Come back.

Dear Super-Agreeable Ambulatory Toddler-Like Life Form Who Appeared in Our House Today:

Never leave!
And, more please!

Olivia woke up happy, ate a good breakfast, complied with her injection, let me put a skirt on her, and then ASKED FOR A HAT.

She sat and happily watched, for the first time in her life, a Sesame Street DVD about counting and let me take a shower.

If February hadn't been the crappiest month of my entire life, I might be afraid that lightning was going to strike me or something, but I really feel that all in all we just deserved a nice morning.