Olivia is finally feeling better. She's happy, then cranky, then screaming and then laughing maniacally and calling, "Look, Mommy!"...in other words, she's almost two. Marc and I seem to be over our illnesses, though we are both plagued by the high-allergy season we've been experiencing this year. I am feeling a constant, maddening itch inside my eyes, in the back of my throat, so far up my nose it must be my brain. I broke down this year and bought some over the counter meds, which seem to replace the itch with an only mildly discombobulating fog. It is worth it to be able to be out with O. The weather has been gorgeous, we have a new playground
in our neighborhood (built by the community in one amazing weekend), and O's favorite place to be is outside, so I had to be able to venture out this spring without a tissue jammed up each nostril.
O's ear infection seems to have brought the honeymoon phase to a crashing halt. Where we were only giving her tiny amounts of Levimir in the morning and evening with no additional insulin with meals, she now needs Humalog with at least one meal to bring her back somewhere close to her target. Close to target...I should be giving her more Humalog than I have been, but I get stuck with a goal in mind and it takes me a little while to make a shift. I have been so nerve-wracked about the low blood sugars that I have been timid about overdoing it with the insulin; as a result, I think that I have been letting her go too high for too long each day. I am still uncomfortable making some of these decisions. I know that I am learning as we go, but my daughter's health seems like a lot to put at stake while I climb the learning curve. Make a move, assess, adjust. Make a move, assess, adjust. We are getting there.
In other news, O made the switch to the Big Girl Bed. She looks so tiny in the middle of the giant twin bed, but she seems to be fairly comfortable. I have, of course, been a little slower to warm to the change and actually left her crib up beside the bed until Marc finally broke it down and put it in the attic one evening. She's finally almost sort-of kinda sleeping through the night (Cue trumpets and sweet angels singing.) She would probably sleep better if we weren't going in and poking her with sharp things every few hours, but close enough. Getting her to fall asleep in the big girl bed is like wrestling a deer, all elbows to the nose and knees in my gut as she crawls around trying to get settled, saying, "Mommy" every seven seconds while I play possum (excuse me...opossum).
The same week that we put up the bed, O's interest in the potty climbed a notch or two, thanks in part to a new book we got on said subject. (Her favorite part? "I did it! I did it") We try to sit her on the potty for a bit each day, but as soon as her bum hits it, she squeaks, "All done!" She is also starting to educate me on the status of her diapers every day, though everything she tells me about has just happened rather than being imminent...but we are getting close to Potty Training, I think. Pray for us.
Labels: diabetes, Olivia, potty, sleep