My Life on the D-List

Diabetes, that is. When I was pregnant with Carson, I failed my glucose tests miserably. With Olivia, I passed with flying colors, even after eating a slice of chocolate cake from the hospital cafeteria twenty minutes before my appointment. Between pregnancy two and three, I had a full blood work-up through a wellness check at work, and was very surprised to find out that my sugars were too high. I began watching my carbs because I was so fearful my kids might grow up without their mom. I guess my fright dissolved once my sugar was in a safer range because I started sliding back into my old eating habits and gained back everything I had lost previously. Early on in my last pregnancy, I was hospitalized because my sugar was so high, so I guess I should not have been too surprised with my most recent diagnosis. Sugar detection in my urine meant that something was up, and more than likely that something was my glucose levels. The doctor ordered a complete blood work up, and low and behold my A1C (measure of blood glucose levels over the past three months) was a whopping 9.2. Normal levels are between four and six, and seven is when organ damage usually begins. Although I had struggled with high blood sugar before, I was never formally diagnosed because I had always gotten the problem under control. This time, however, my A1C was the highest it has ever been and I heard those dreaded words, "You are an uncontrolled diabetic."


I cried off and on for several days partially because it was such a struggle to find something I could eat. Because I was diagnosed by my gynecologist, I was not placed on medication, so I was trying to control my sugars by cutting out all carbs not naturally found in foods; however, the main reason for my tears was because the doctor's words were exactly what I had been dreading hearing for several years. No matter the warning signs or my previous health issues I never thought such a diagnosis would actually come, so when actually faced with such a disease, it threw me for a huge loop.


After finally seeing my primary doctor, I am now taking medication to help control my glucose levels, but I am still eating very few carbs, if any. In the two months since my diagnosis, I have lost twenty-five pounds and gone down two pant sizes. I bought my first pants from the misses section in about ten years. It is so exciting to get on the scale and see that my struggles are not in vain. It is also encouraging to have my family supporting me in this complete lifestyle change. That, in itself, makes an enormous difference. With such drastic changes in diet plus the added medication, I now have my sugars under control, but it is also possible for diabetes to be altogether reversed. This is definitely the biggest goal I have set for myself.


Although I am disappointed with this diagnosis, I view it as a wake-up call. I do not want to live my life with the ill effects of diabetes such as vision loss, circulatory damage, foot ulcers, etc, but most importantly, I want to live my life. I want to grow old with my husband, see my kids graduate high school and college, get married and have my grandchildren. I want to see my sweet niece, nephew, and all those future little Delcambres, Pettys, and Piersons grow up to do great things. I want to see my parents travel on their matching pair of motorcycles  and help them celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary. I want to finally bite the bullet and fly on an airplane. There are so many things I have yet to accomplish, do, and see, so for now, I choose to live my life on the d-list to the fullest rather than let this ugly disease consume me.

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Kids These Days

I was, in no way, a wonderfully behaved teen. I did some things that I am not so proud of. I rebelled against my parents' rules and behaviors they had taught me. I was very curious about some things they never talked about. I made some mistakes that changed my life forever, but I definitely learned from them. As I think back about all the times I did not make good choices, I constantly remind myself that I have a merciful and loving God who has already forgiven me and because of this, I no longer have to regret those things from my past. I do, however, want to continue to learn from them and use them to teach my children to walk with the Lord even throughout those tough teenage years when no one else seems to be. Working in the public school system has really helped me to understand how blessed I am to have parents who did all they could to support me academically, athletically, and spiritually.

In my job, I am in charge of lab reservations and the overseeing of the open computer lab. I also received a new duty this year, Pi Sigma Advisor. Pi Sigma is a group of the top junior and senior students in the school who go into classrooms and assist the teacher in giving students extra help with assignments. For the most part, these are the "good kids" who do not cause trouble, who make good grades, and who are involved in several extracurricular activities. I do, however, have to deal with more challenging students at times. I have had a student open inappropriate content on the computer that contained sexual acts being performed on an animation software. I have also had a student trying to post pictures of herself in her bra and panties on a social networking site. I have students all the time trying to play online games that consist of blowing stuff up, shooting people in the head, and fighting, but each and every situation was handled with appropriate disciplinary action and there have definitely not been any repeat offenders. 

Out of the classroom, I have encountered dress code violations (girls' tops too low, boys not shaving, holes in jeans, etc.), cell phone use in the building (it is usually the parents calling/texting the kids), and one student punching another in the ribs. Just last week, as I walked down the hall, I discovered an empty condom wrapper on the floor. In most of the dress code issues, my co-workers and I ask each other how they kids even got out of their house looking like they do. My parents were both very strict when it came to modesty, so I could have never gotten away with any of that stuff. I hear from students asking me all the time why they have to shave, cut their hair, not wear hats, earrings, etc. and they complain non-stop about the rules being so stupid. I understand that some things seem so petty, but in life, their are always rules/laws we don't like. Does that make them any less necessary to follow? I always tell them, "No matter how stupid you think the rules are, you still have to follow them." These conversations take place at least once a week if not once a day.

Such instances are not as troubling to me as some of the other things I have encountered while working here. In my former position, I actually had classes assigned in my computer lab, so I saw the same kids every other day until they completed the program. Through the four years in the classroom, I had many students warm up to me so much that they would really open up about their home life, friends, job, and even their love life. They would tell me about their drunken party experience the previous weekend, their plan for a repeat the next one, getting arrested, fighting with their parents, and how their boyfriend/girlfriend was cheating on them with their friend. I was really glad they were opening up to someone who would really listen, but it sure was hard not to just jump down their throats for their stupidity. Now that I have not quite had the same interactions with students these past two years, I seem to have forgotten that they still face the same dilemmas and tough choices. So, as I address students who are breaking school rules, I have to choose my words carefully. I can't possibly be that adult who is their friend all the time allowing them to do whatever they see fit, as long as they aren't hurting anyone, but I don't have to be that tough as nails authority figure who they want to avoid at all cost and who makes them hate getting out of bed to go to school each morning. I only hope when I interact with each and every student that I am a voice of guidance rather than condemnation, a voice of reason rather than threats, and most importantly, I hope that I can be an influence on their future choices. Thinking back, this could have made the difference for me in my teenage foolishness.

Through My New Eyes

For as long as I can remember, starting anywhere from January to June, I would begin the countdown to September 16th. It was to be the best day of the year, hands down, every year, but 2010 was a totally different story. Not only was I not counting down the days, but I had completely been dreading it since September 17th, 2009. This undesired event was my 30th birthday. I don't really know what all the apprehension was about; however, I was seriously in distress over the whole ordeal. Several of my friends had assured me that nothing really changed when they hit the big 3-0, but I wasn't buying it. Even my mom kept reminding me that come December, she turns fifty, so what was my problem?

Although my birthday ended up not so horrendously, I was not completely caught off guard by what came later that day. I had not had an eye exam since 2000 when the doctor informed me I no longer needed glasses or contacts to correct my vision, but I had been experiencing some "visible" changes when it came to reading and TV and computer usage in previous months. When I called to make appointments for Chris and me, I just took the first day she had available. It took several days for me to realize that I was gifting myself with an eye doctor appointment. Meanwhile, the optometrist also had a little gift for me... a brand new  prescription for eye glasses. Happy birthday to me.

After all the trepidation of turning thirty, I now realize that my older and wiser friends and family were right, I was worried for nothing. Not only did I not wake up with wrinkles, gray hair, or an overwhelming urge to have dinner at 5:30, but I really began thinking about how blessed I am to have made it to thirty and to have a wonderful husband, three amazing kids, and an extended family who is so loving, giving, and extremely supportive. It would take me another thirty years just to count all those blessings. Now, I know that my new glasses don't have some magic power that has helped me see that my fear or stress or whatever it was that I faced in entering this new decade in my life, but I do believe that they weren't the only new thing I received that day. I was gifted with a brand new perspective. God has shown me that age is just a number that we can either fear or live out to the fullest. Although I haven't fully rejoiced in turning thirty, I now see it as just another time of celebration rather than a fearful one of regrets and worries. One of these days, I will wake up with those gray hairs and wrinkles, but I discovered an amazing verse this weekend that kind of makes me wish for that silver to start cropping up. "Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life." Proverbs 16:31

Spa Day With The Kids

No, I did not pay a ton of money to take myself and my 7 1/2 and 6 year old to a fancy spa. Carson and Olivia asked for some sheets of paper and a pen. I didn't inquire too much about their plans for them. I was just glad they asked for paper along with the pen because we've had issues in the past with them writing on the wall, sheets, pillows, etc. A little while later, they came and told me they had made their room into a spa, and they wanted me to come for a visit. On their bedroom door hung an open sign that read "spoille." Although spelled incorrectly, I was so proud that they came up with such a creative name for a spa, Spoil; however, Olivia pointed to the sign and said, "Carson thought that's how you spell spa." Man, has school been out that long already. We're going to be practicing some spelling this week. Anyway, they invited me into the "spa" which was their bed draped with their comforters with an opening to enter the bottom bunk. It was like a little beach bed you might see on the beaches of Cancun or Jamaica.
They offered me a pedicure (foot rub with lotion) and a massage (back rub and scratch). Olivia said she wanted to give me a facial with mayonnaise or mud. I told her I didn't think that was a good idea, but she begged me for some cucumbers to put over my eyes. "It's not a real spa without them, Mama," she told me. The closest thing we had to cucumbers were bread and butter pickles. I told her to have Chris rinse them off and dry them. They each took turns putting one on my eyes. It didn't take long for the pickles to give me a headache with their strong aroma, but it sure was fun watching my kids be so thrilled about pampering me.

 As summer wears on, it's these creative moments that remind me just how special my kids are. They never cease to amaze me with their brilliant ideas and anti-boredom tactics. It's such a joy to watch them work together on little projects like Lego's, puzzles, and of course, the "spoille". These are the days that I will cherish forever. 

Sisters Are Forever

Now, I am the first to admit that I have not been the best big sister. I am seven and 8 1/2 years older than my sisters, so it was a shock to me, in 2nd grade, that I now had to share my parents, space, and whole world with these crying, meddling, drooly little things. I know I was bossy and controlling throughout the years. I remember telling them I would pay them $1 for every minute they rubbed my back, and I'm almost positive I never paid them a dime. I was also reminded Saturday night how I tortured them both by making them wet their pants. (Although the reminder came through Kaylee's demonstration on my own children.) Even as a high schooler and young adult, there weren't too many choices I made that I am not proud of. There are a myriad of things I did back then of which (only by the grace of God) they are not aware, but they have asked me about events in my past that I am, even now, embarrassed to admit. 

As a big sister, I should have been the leader, the positive example, the one showing them how to serve others, love without condition, make good decisions that would not negatively affect my life, and most importantly, how to love the Lord with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength. This, however, was far from what was out there for them to see and follow. I will never forget sitting in my car after a night of eating out with an almost 16 year old Kaylee and 14 year old Morgan and fighting to get the words out that me, still unmarried, was pregnant once again. I hated looking in the back seat and seeing the hurt and disappointment in their eyes. Now, as teens, I'm not sure if that hurt and disappointment was more for me or the fact that I would still be invading their space, their time, and their teenage years that should be full of fun and friends. 

If most of us were to think about the teens we know, sacrificing for family would be nowhere near the top of a list of characteristics they display. It would probably not even find its way on to the list if we were asked for 100 things. Sacrifice...that's exactly what my sisters did for me all those years I was a single mom. They gave up having their own rooms, had to share a bathroom with three other people, and constantly babysat while I worked, went to school, and even just got out of the house for a while. As disappointed as they were in me and the choices I made, they loved me, my kids, and just gave and gave to us when they could have chosen otherwise. For this, I am so grateful.

Not only am I grateful, but I realize that no matter what our differences in opinions, personalities, and preferences, we are sisters. We have been through many trials, life lessons, and a ton of fun together, but I pray that as the last one of us gets married this January, they bless me with more nieces and nephews, we finish school, start new careers, and things all around us continue to change, we will stay close, help each other out, and not ever lose sight of how important our relationship with one another is. Our love for one another should never fade, expire, or even be in question. What a special bond sisters have. I cannot imagine what my life might have been without the love, support, and sacrifices from my little sisters. I also know that, although I have not agreed with every decision, action and behavior of theirs, I love them and pray that I will be ready, willing, and able to help them like they have helped me.