At Daymen's Hill Orchard

A few days ago Frank and I drove out towards Tiptree for a new adventure.
My friend Sue had told me of a family run fruit farm where you can pick your own apples and pears.
Moved to action by the evocative postings of some blogging friends in the US I wanted a little apple picking action of my own and in this Frank was a very willing partner.
It was just so very lovely.
The trees were groaning with the fruit and I filled a basket with pears and one with apples.
Notice Frank's stance here? He quickly adopted a defensive head-kind-of-down stance after being hit on the bonce one too many times as he pulled the fruit free.
This fruit was so very ready to fall it needed little encouragement!

Then he sloped off to eat blackberries direct from the bush whilst I paid and dreamt of all the yummy things I was going to make with all that fruit.
I so love autumn and it's days of plenty and those first signs of people lighting fires and wearing socks and scarves.

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And in the D-news we were at Addenbrooke's hospital for our quarterly pump clinic and check up and came away with some new ratios and some big smiles : 7.3.
Holding steady.

Peanut Butter Krispy Treats

Thank you to everyone that took time to respond to my call for help. It really, really helped to hear other stories and some great ideas too. You are all fab!

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In an attempt to get the Boy Wonder to consume a variety of grains ... oh, who am I kidding ... in an attempt to get Frank to eat ANY GRAIN OTHER THAN WHITE WHEAT, I stealthily add various things to recipes he might eat.
To his white bread I add whole wheat or rye or rice flour. He used to eat rice but won't now. He will allow pasta on his plate but tends not to eat it!! At someone else's house he will devour a whole bowl of Bolognese and pasta but, alas, not at home.
He is suspicious that I am sneaking contraband into his food.
He has a point ...
I have taken to adding ground linseeds or ground almonds to his porridge, making it also with half oat milk and half cow's milk. I sneak squash and sweet potatoes into Bolognese sauce. He will eat raw carrots and celery and peas from the pod and that's it for veg.
I am sounding so over-controlling here but I am concerned as he won't eat other veggies or rice and with his Type 1 Diabetes I am aware that any days of high BG will result in an extra loss of nutrients.
I think we do OK, all in all.
I am not panicked about this but maintain an awareness of what foods are building his body. He eats ice cream and crisps, I am no purist and am very clear on the idea of never forbidding any foods. Children with this condition need no extra food issues in the mix, ideally.
I am reading "The Healthiest Kid in the Neighbourhood" by William Sears at the moment. Lots of the information in it isn't new to me as I have always been interested in nutrition (thankfully, as I had a head start on getting a grip on the whole carb counting thang) but it is very informative about snacking and phases kids go through. I have also found it really useful for giving me ammunition when shopping with Frank. Saying things like "We don't buy that in our family" has been working wonders. However, I think of people like Meri, with older kids, and know I will only be able to use this for a short while. I'll be shopping on line soon!!
One snack that I have rustled up this week has met with a lukewarm response but hasn't been rejected outright are the Peanut Butter treats above. They are really tasty (Andrew and I love them!) and from this book, which has me inspired to go veggie again very soon.
I bought my ingredients in the Wholefood Store in Manningtree (the store I long to be locked in overnight!) and used puffed quinoa instead of rice. They are gluten free and I like to keep them in the fridge to keep them more solid and chewy.

Peanut Butter Krispy Treats
3/4 cup smooth unsalted peanut butter (I only had salted so I omitted the extra salt)
3/4 cup maple syrup
1 scant teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
2 1/2 teaspoons agar flakes
4 cups unsweetened crisp brown rice cereal

Combine the peanut butter, maple syrup, salt and agar flakes in a large sauce pan over a low heat and stir constantly until smooth, hot, melted and bubbling just a bit. Turn off the heat and add the cereal. Stir until well-coated. Transfer to an 8 by 8-inch baking dish and press into place. Refrigerate until completely coo, then cut into small rectangles with a sharp knife.
Makes around 20 treats.

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In more specifically D-related news we had our first failed site two nights ago and were up until 3am testing and bolusing every hour until we decided to grasp the nettle and change that bastard. Frank moaned a bit but then chatted to us and we all go on with it. the cannula was all bent sideways. His pre-breakfast BG was 5.7, such a relief after 23.8 and similar all night.
In retrospect as I primed the set something felt different in the spring-action thingy, but instead of not using it, I kind of imagined it would all be OK even though it felt a bit wrong.
Next time I won't do that. And from what I read there will be a next time.

Camping it up

A picture heavy post giving you a glimpse into our long weekend away camping in the Cotswolds.The new bell tent stood up well to some major gusts of wind and we were a bit chilly at night, but this was northern Europe in April!

Frank loved sleeping in his grobag again; something he hasn't done since he was three.Breakfast was taken outside most days with us enjoying homemade granola, marmalade on toast, pains au chocolat and lashings of tea!

Frank took some photos of the camp too.

The tree next to the tent made great shadows inside and my boy was rosy-cheeked and wind-swept most of the time ( a haircut is booked for tomorrow so enjoy that long, lop-sided hair for now!).

Budd wore his cap and struck a great pose without even realising it here.

He is getting a beard trim this week too.

This trip also saw our first site failure.

Of course it would happen in a tent rather than in the comfort of our own home!

But it was sorted quickly and all was well.

Interestingly the trigger felt really different on the insertion thingy (the techinical term!) than with any of the others I have done and the canula came out all bent and covered in blood.

Frank was non-plussed by this and so we just put a new one in.

I am constantly amazed at how he takes all this in his stride.

However, we have had tears and deals needing to be struck just to get his hair cut booked tomorrow, so he chooses his battles!

Off to catch up on all your news now.

Toodle -oo!

My Funky Tent

Thanks for all your kind comments on my last post.

I was glad to be welcomed back by such an esteemed group of people!

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A couple of days ago there was a knock at the door and we took delivery of this beauty.

My birthday present from Mr Muffinmoon: a beautiful, funky bell tent.

I have always loved the style of these tents and my sister and her partner have one, which we stayed in once when on their farm.

I have no pictures of the inside yet as I want to take lots when we are actually using it and it's full of sheepskins and blankets and cushions, but inside is one open space with the tent pole in the middle.

I love the natural material.

Even the mallet is wooden and these cool tent pegs are so natural and rough that they look like Hagrid whittled them in a free period from teaching at Hogwarts!
I love them.
Is it insane to love a tent peg?
Hmmm... maybe ...

And this past weekend we erected the tent, Mr Muffinmoon being unable to not make comments about large erections, and watered it well. This, you understand, is not to make it grow into a bigger tent or bear tenty fruit but to enable the fibres to swell with the water and then as they dry the whole thing becomes water proof.
For you knitters out there it is blocking for tents.
This is England.
On our first camping trip with it I will find out whether that has worked or not!
It will rain at some point, indeed possibly at all points.
For the moment it sits in the garden, weathering, much like I lie next to my boy every night, weathering these first few weeks of life with Lucky Pump.
Tomorrow I have to change the pump site all alone as Mr Muffinmoon will be out late earning a crust (his job is safe for a few more months, by the way!).
And tomorrow I'll give you the soup recipe.
Blogging every day.
What the ...
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I seem to be an all or nothin' kind of gal at the moment.
Ah, well, so ist das Leben.

Shrove Tuesday

So, ahem, more than a week has slipped by with me not finding time to post.

I will attempt to address the balance by posting more regularly for the next few days.

We are doing fine.

Lucky Pump is ticking over and we even managed to do a site change with no tears on Frank's part.

I cried though.

I spend the day of set change building up to it and get in a bit of a state at the moment, but I recall doing that with the injections and it got easier.

It's Shrove Tuesday today, aka Pancake Day, and Frank is (I'm almost scared to jinx it all by writing it) showing more interest in a variety of foods so we went for pancakes for dessert this evening.

Andrew is great at tossing the pancakes in the pan and he and Frank did that together.

Then they were enjoyed with a little muscovado sugar and lemon juice.

Frank ate two and declared them "really yummy".

I was proud of him as his usual response to an offer of an undesirable food is to make barfing noises and fall to the floor clutching his throat.

I then reply with withering sarcasm, "A simple "No thanks Mummy" would suffice Frank".

And on we roll.

Back soon with tales of my new tent (a birthday gift) and a recipe for the soup we've been going mad for for the past month.

Happy Tuesday, friends.

Week Two with Lucky Pump

Please excuse my absence this week.

I am following all of your posts but finding very little time or energy to comment. You are all with me every day, I just don't feel up to much but getting to grips with this new phase.

But after my saint of a husband letting me lie in this morning I have time and energy for an update of our week:

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Lucky Pump is with us all day, every day.

He comes cycling with us when Frank comes out to the local shops and the library with me, nestled in Frank's pocket as he races along.

We are in telephone contact every day with the hospital as we all work to fine tune the basals and we are testing BG all through the day and then at 10pm, 12 midnight, 2:30 and then on waking at 7am.

We work it thus: one of us does the 10pm and the midnight whilst the other, in theory, gets some sleep in the spare room in anticipation of doing the 2:30am test.

In practice, we both stay up until twelve and then whoever is doing the 2:30am test sleeps fitfully until their shift.

We are exhausted and the day before yesterday I broke down as I was so very very tired and yet couldn't sleep even whilst lying in bed.

My poor husband had to deal with a sobbing wife at one in the morning, convinced she was an unfit mother.

This new piece of kit attached to my baby clearly has me wired too.

It does not feel under control yet.

I lie awake watching him breathe and, tell me you don't do this and I won't believe you, having those dark nighttime thoughts that seem built into the human psyche about what a terrible person I am and wishing I was a calm zenlike mother rather than this complete mess.

Then sleep overcomes me after the final test and in the morning Frank wakes and smiles at me and says "Can I have a story?" and all is well. I feel like I have a newborn again as the nights are long, but this phase will pass and I will sleep for more than half an hour at a stretch again.

Andrew is amazing in this.

He has always coped more graciously with less sleep than me.

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And on the up side: I love how the pump has made snacking much less of an obstacle course.

Today I made wholemeal chocolate chip cookies and Frank, who has declared he only likes uncooked biscuits, polished off the scrapings in the bowl.

How could I resist taking a picture of this boy, this wonderful boy, licking the bowl with such gusto.

This is how he lives life.

I have much to learn from him!

P.S. A quick kit question for you: What kind of little bags or packs are good for kids Frank's age to hold the pump? Where can I get a little bum bag for the pump? Well, we call them bum-bags over here, but I have heard them called fanny-packs in America (this for a British person brings a whole different image!).

What do you do at night?

Can anyone recommend some good stuff?

I'd be so grateful.
My love and friendship to you all.

I am always so grateful for your voices and thoughts.

Awesome

Let me explain:

I am English and I do not, I repeat, DO NOT, us the word awesome easily.

A few years ago a Canadian cousin came to stay and when I offered her a cup of tea in the morning said "Oh, that would be awesome". I distinctly remember going downstairs to put the kettle on and thinking "No, love, it'll be just a cup of tea. A good one, I make good tea, but it won't be awesome. The Grand Canyon is awesome, a cup of tea isn't".

So, I trust it is now clear that I don't use the word awesome unless something earns it.

Enter our (yes, it's ours!) Medtronic insulin pump, which Frank has named Lucky Pump.

He has been wearing it full time and live with real insulin and everything (!) since Wednesday morning at the hospital.

It is AWESOME.

So AWESOME.

I have not had to give my child an injection for three days now.

No cheeky Lantus to sting him every morning.

No getting his buttocks out for injections on the sofa or in cafes.

Naive I must be, as I hadn't realised how draining injecting had become.

I feel much lighter of spirit already dealing with this pump malarkey.

It's complicated in some ways but so logical in others and I can already, after just three days, see the details that will make micro-managing blood sugar so much more possible.

We are still in the very early stages of tweaking those basals and testing every two hours, right through the night.

I am tired but boy, oh boy, do I want this to work out.

The night before last Frank said "Mummy, two questions." I look at him and he went on "One: will I still be Diabetes when I'm a grown up?" "Yes, Frank, it's just who you are like having those long eyelashes or being good at running".

He smiles and I well up.

"Two:", he says "is there anything stuck in the bed covers 'cos I need to rescue them!" and he dives into the covers on the bed and goes searching for lost socks to rescue, Lucky Pump just trailing after him and him barely aware of it.

Something in that conversation grounded me.

The first question so seemingly huge from an adult perspective but the answer accepted so readily by a child who really just wants to do some bed clothes diving.

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Frank is awesome.

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Our week so far

Ok, so, here we are, Thursday evening and posting, finally, after a humdinger of a week (and it's not even over ...).

We made it to the hospital with both myself and Andrew having stomach pains due to stress. Once there we were greeted by Claire the fantabulous Diabetes Specialist Nurse (who has herself been Type 1 for 26 years. She looks about 12 so I have no idea how that is even possible!).

We then spent three hours with her and three other families learning how to navigate the Starship Enterprise, er, sorry , the Medtronic pump.

It went really well.

The other families were really committed, like us, to looking Diabetes in the eye and making their children's lives as healthy as possible. They too were freaked out and out of their comfort zones (if indeed poking your child to the point of bleeding several times a day can EVER be termed a comfort zone).

We played with the pump, had a go at changing the reservoir or setting it up and then I got to wear it for a while and showed Frank how it was inserted.

By twelve thirty we were left to take our box of goodies home and practise, practise, practise.

We have saline solution to use and Frank needs to get used to wearing it and will still need injections for this week.

After the hospital we broke the journey home by pulling in for a picnic in the camper van at a country park just outside Cambridge.

The sun was shining.

It was one of those days that herald the Spring and we loved strolling around (with sticks, in Frank's case) the 2,400 year old site (it had been an encampment and the earth is maintained to show the shape of the camp). If those dates make your jaw drop just think of the cheap motel we stayed in the night before that was right next to a Bronze Age burial ground, some 8,000 years old (give or take a month or two!).

This was all very grounding after a morning of huge learning.
Then it got interesting ...
On the way home my stomach began to feel unsettled and after about half an hour I pulled over and .. er .. lost my lunch.
Andrew took over the driving and I tried to lay a flat as I could, moaning on the back seat as he headed home.
Never has a journey felt so long.
Once home I made a dash for the bathroom and after an hour or so went to bed and dozed.
All plans to look at the pump went out the window with my lunch.
Next day Andrew had to work and I was OK but weak.
The only thing I had eaten that was different to the boys was a tuna bean salad.
Damn those ready made salads!

Then to round off the three days of lively times Andrew came home on Wednesday with a letter notifying him of the fact that he has six weeks until he will be made redundant.
However, we are fine!
One would think that this would be the worst week to hear such news but no.
Having a child with Type 1 Diabetes, for me anyway, puts much of life's other difficulties in perspective.
It's not as trite as the awful"don't sweat the small stuff" idea but there is a sense of gentle perspective.
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All will be well.
All will be well.
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Tomorrow we try the pump on Frank for 24 hours and then again as much as we can after that.
Next Wednesday we go "live".
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Let's hear it again:
All will be well.
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I am hosting my book group here tomorrow evening.
I chose Laura Ingalls Wilder's "The Little House in the Big Woods" and "The Little House on the Prairie".
Reading these books brings perspective too.
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Love to all and huge great big and enormous thanks to all who wished us well.
Thank you.
I am so grateful for you.

And beyond ...

Oh, what can I possibly say to explain how I am feeling?

We have pump training next Tuesday and the following Wednesday at Addenbrooke's in Cambridge.

We want this.

Frank wants this.

BUT I am aware that I am feeling so scared and jittery and freaked out about taking on this NEW THING.

I've become so relaxed about injections and thought I'd be feeling great about the pump but, when it comes to it, diabetes just sucks, doesn't it?

Even when you have to do new stuff it's scary rather than exciting.

It's never like "Oooh, a new flavour of cheesecake, that'll be good".

No.

It's "Oooh, shit, I might get this wrong and he'll bleed or be rushed to hospital or collapse or have ragingly high blood sugar for a while or ... or ... or ...".

Diabetes sucks.

I know this will be great for our ability to maintain Frank's health but I am scared.

Plain and simple.

Diabetes has so leeched my confidence and sapped my intelligence that I fear taking this on in case I am not up to the job.

I know Andrew feels the same.

I will be back next week with an update.

I believe we have a week of using the pump with a saline solution to get used to it before we are allowed to do the real thing.

So many of you have been here before and I had contemplated not posting about my wussy feelings but I do want to be honest.

Happy Weekend to you all and off we go ... to infinity and beyond ....

Wish us luck.

At My Table

Last Autumn I went to the wonderful (and oh-so-bad-for-the-bank-balance) Knit and Stitch Show at Alexandra Palace in London (affectionately known as Ally Pally).

I left many pounds lighter in terms of money and many pounds heavier in terms of great fabrics and yarns.

Three of those fabrics were small pieces of end of roll cuts that I wanted to make something for each of us with. I thought about tote bags but we have lots of those and I wanted these fabrics to be seen regularly.

So, last week, on a rainy day and with the sewing machine out and ready I decided to involve Frank in some fabric stamping action and make personalised place mats for our meal times.

I had some leftover linen and we stamped our names on small pieces of it with our new alphabet stamps and once they were dry I ironed the letters to fix the ink.

Frank then chose the stitch pattern to attach the labels to the place mats and helped me press the right buttons on the sewing machine.

An hour later we had three funky place mats for each and every meal.

We see these mats three times a day.

Or rather, whenever I lay the table. Husband forgets them, much as he has forgotten to wear his apron since Christmas.

Hmmm ....

I love these!

They cheer me so much but I am also beginning to understand the issue of lovingly slaving over things that others don't value. I don't expect people to weep with joy at every meal but to put things to use would be good.

Having a child with Type 1 is like this.

I can tell a hundred people Frank's cool HbA1c and only one percent will have any clue of the work that went into it!

But, being creative in any way (writing a blog, poetry, knitting, cooking, sewing, eyeshadow colours, basal tweaking etc etc) is so good for the soul.

I now recognise that I NEED it.

In some form or another a day does not feel right and my spirit does not feel sustained unless I have gone some way towards creating something.

I truly believe we humans are driven to do this in some form or another.

So, here is Frank's place mat with the fabric he loved as he loves camping.

This is also a typical meal for him, by the way. I might bake and make carb-bomb foods sometimes but more often than not he won't eat them unless it once moo-ed or bleated or clucked or oinked or it's bread or potatoes!

He didn't eat his carrots this day as they were grated and not whole.

And here is Andrew's place mat.

He's not on a strict diet but hadn't got home from work before I took the pictures!


And mine is Red Riding Hood.
I love the fabric even though as a little girl (and even now) I found the story highly suspicious with all the "little girls shouldn't strike out alone in the woods or the wolf will get them and they'll need a big man with a big axe (yeah, right) to save them" nonsense.
I was an early developer as a feminist, clearly!
Maybe I love this fabric because she is looking at that wolf as though she's about to slap him on the nose and tell him to behave himself!

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Thank you to all of you who sent positive and encouraging comments about the pump. We are looking forward to getting to grips with it and are suitably scared too.

We have had a few too many mild but still scary hypos this week and whilst it's good to see lower numbers, too low is not good.

Time for some creative basal tweaking (is it me and my addled brain or does that sound like a euphemism? As in "Hello darlin', fancy coming back to my place for a bit of basal tweaking?"!!).

Love to all and happy Wednesday.

Riding the Dragon Tree

Frank and I headed out to Cudmore Grove on Mersea Island this week.

It was a balmy January day and, after what felt like weeks inside, sunshine on our skin and the sea air did us all power of good.

As you can see, East Anglia is flat and I just love the big skies.

Look at that blue!

So healing. Once on the beach we found this fantastic dried piece of wood and Frank flew it up into the air like the children in one of our favourite books.
Then we larked about on the beach.
I have seen seals off this beach and love it here.
This day we saw all of six other people.

Bliss is a wooden dragon ride with a view ...

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Thanks for all your positive comments about the pump arriving.
We got all excited, took photos and then saw the size of the manual.
Gulp!
It's now all back in its box waiting for training day.
I will look at the manual before that but it feels like being given a space ship and a manual and being left to work it out.
I know, from my years as a teacher, that I am intrinsically a team player.
I like to discuss and confirm and learn best that way.
Bring on the training!
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Back very soon with crafty updates.
I've been sewing and have even been knitting cables, yes, cables baby!

A post about the post

I was home alone an hour ago when the door knocker sounded and I opened the front door to receive this parcel.

Any guesses?

Here's a clue.
Woooo Hoooo!
Just have to wait for the training sessions to come up at the hospital now.
Am nervous and excited but, really, how hard can it be?
I bet it'll be like a balmy day out on the coast off California watching whales.

Oh, wait a minute .........