Not so peaceful...

It is our first Friday without baseball practice and I am totally exhausted.  I ended up working a little late, but not too late.  I was looking forward to a night of relaxing.  A simple dinner was planned...hot dogs & brats.  I had this fantasy that we would eat a simple dinner and we would all get to bed early since last night was later than usual with the end of the year pizza party after the munchkin's last baseball game.

Reflecting on last night's pizza party I discovered that there is a discrimination against us diabetics!  It doesn't happen that often, but I think when it does it is worse for a kid.  I cannot imagine what a child diagnosed with diabetes must go through on a daily basis.  I find it difficult and I'm 32 years old.  There was not a thing at the end of the season party that I or any other diabetic could eat.  There was pepperoni pizza, chocolate chip cookies, sugar baseball cookies, cupcakes and pop (all non-diet).  Needless to say...I didn't drink or eat anything last night until we got home.

Alright...back to tonight.  As I sat here, feeling a bit down for myself and the fact that I can't live the way I was even though I wasn't living the right life.  I think the hardest thing I've found is the fact that I cannot go to a restaurant and have a pop.  So after last night and the inability to partake in the festivities I was just feeling sorry for myself...As we waited for the brats to finish cooking the house phone rang.  It was my mom...My parents left yesterday morning on their bikes for a rally in southern Indiana.  There was a call that came in mid-day saying they were on their way home 3 days early as they suspected my dad had broke his leg... They were home and she was going to drive him to the ER after they spent over 4 hours on their bikes trying to get home.  After telling my mom that she wasn't going alone, I jumped in the car and picked them up and off to the ER we go...  

An hour and a half later we are leaving the ER, going to Taco Bell for mom and dad's dinner.  Dad's leg is broke, mom's spirit is crushed and I'm still exhausted.  I take them home, get them set up and come home.  My aunt then tells me I need to get the munchkin's script for antibiotics because his bug bites are swelling and getting red.  Of course my munchkin cannot have just normal bug-bites.  He gets it from his Daddy's side of the family.  His bug bites swell up like golf and tennis balls even with special proactive medicine and as soon as he scratches them he seems to end up with cellulitis.  So off to the pharmacy I go...

So much for a quiet, restful night...I'll be lucky if I'm in the bed before 1am...