Matt had to work this weekend. A lot. Like, 9am until after midnight on Saturday, and then 9am until 4:30pm on Sunday (and then some time spent working from home that evening). Which cheats both of us out of the weekend -- him, because he has to work, and me, because I'm pulling the single parent gig.
So I really, really wasn't prepared for the work week to start this morning. And the less said about this morning and its distinctive flavor of Monday, the better. (Nothing major, just one little frustration piled on top of another, on top of another, on top of... you get the idea.)
But instead of whining (more), I'm going to tell you about the awesome thing that happened this weekend. Friday afternoon, Penny was trying to convince me that she wanted a sleepover with one of her little friends, and I was trying to explain to her how other parents don't usually know how to give insulin shots, and that sleepovers would be a lot easier when she'd learned how to do her own shots -- that way, the parents just have to help with food measurement and carb counting and then calling us to figure dosages.
"But I can do my own shots!" she protested. "I did it before!"
"Well, I need to see you do it, and I need to see you've practiced at it."
She pouted, but wound up having a sleepover at Adin's, (having friends who are medical professionals rocks), so she was happy.
But on Saturday, as we were getting ready for lunch, I said, "Do you want to do your own shot, and show me you can do it?"
Penny hesitated, waffled a bit, and then bargained: she would do the shot if I would hold the shot-blocker for her.
So she used her knee to pucker up her arm the way they showed them at diabetes camp, and I put the shot-blocker down for her, and she picked up the needle... hesitated one last time... and then did it.
She did it again at snacktime. And dinnertime (which, being a leg shot, she held the shot-blocker herself). I did her bedtime shot, but she did all her own shots on Sunday, including the bigger bedtime shot. For a couple of them, she not only gave herself the shot, but drew the insulin, after I'd told her how much to draw.
I was incredibly proud of her. So was Matt, when he finally got to see it at dinner last night.
And now I'll feel much more comfortable with her going on sleepovers to houses that don't contain a medical professional or fellow diabetic. (I'll still have to brief the parents, of course, but it's a lot easier for people to agree to tracking food and limiting the random snacking than it is for them to agree to give someone else's child a shot.) And I'll feel a little easier about putting her on an insulin pump -- she needs to know how to do shots for "just in case" events (e.g., the infusion set getting pulled loose and not having a spare on hand).
But mostly, I'm just incredibly stinking proud of her for taking that next step toward independence. (This morning, she was trying to work out how many units of insulin she needed for her breakfast. I talked her through it, but since they haven't started multiplication yet, let alone division, it was kind of tricky. At least breakfast is easy, because we're dividing by 10.)