Moving: The Realization That You Have Too Dang Much Stuff

Our recent move to Houston is the first move I have made with a husband. Naturally this implies a husband plus wedding gifts plus enough crap to fill a 3,000 square foot house. And it also points out one of my biggest character flaws: the near inability to say “No thanks” and/or realizing that I probably won’t ever get to that DIY project I saw on Pinterest.

I valiantly tried to preempt this moving-stuff drudgery with weekly trips to the thrift store in Huntsville, and somehow, even after moving, I have again begun schlepping items to Goodwill in Houston. [It may not help that I absolutely love thrifting, trying DIYs that only sometimes turn out how I envision them, and using Goodwill more as a “rental” clothes store so I don’t feel bad about getting rid of some of those pieces.] Along with a 690 square ft apartment we also have two storage units; I have been treating their existence like a bad habit, quietly sneaking stuff into them and hiding it so I don’t have to maneuver around it in the cramped apartment.

I’ve decided this whole apartment stint is a great time to simplify our life, help others out by donating the items we don’t really need, and focus more on just being together rather than stressing about DIYs. And I think we have come to the conclusion that when we are ready to buy a house here it will have significantly less DIY-requirements than our Huntsville house. As much as I love projects, I am also absolutely loving this quality time with the hubs and our three adorable animal buddies!

PS: Moving can’t be as difficult as wrangling your cat into the kennel can it?!

Gus Grissom the cat is less than pleased with this trip to the Vet.

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Critical Space Item: Handle With Extreme Care

Someday I want to open a box. The box will be neatly wrapped up with an excessive amount of packaging. Its contents will have been years in the making, and even though it won't weigh much, this small box will represent a huge step forward.

As most flight hardware begins, the space-rated closed-loop insulin delivery and monitoring device inside the box will be sterile and stark. But as the batteries whir to life and insulin is placed within, it will become an extra appendage, an external pancreas, for this Type 1 astro-hopeful. Bluetooth connections will be made and doctors, hungry for telemetry from my bionic body, will be at the ready. We will rely on each other - he on I for his very existence, and I on him for my continued existence. Together we will make up one whole, completely functioning, Type 1 Diabetic astronaut.

Admittedly, this dream feels further and further from reality. I have lived with this disease just under 20 years now, and the cure has always been "just 5 …

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MCM - Certified Mom

This morning I woke up early, the baby monitor was chirping just a few minutes before my alarm was set to go off. Chris graciously rolled out of bed and set out to re-insert Otto's paci. Meanwhile, I pressed my clothes, curled my hair and brewed some coffee - my standard pre-console routine. After a quick breakfast Zara peeped her head over the railing and I heard a gentle "mama" echo down the stairs. It was still dark, but this little one was ready for her daily breakfast of oatmeal and milk in preparation for a fun day at swim lessons and school. As she sat, eating her "oatsss" (as she calls them), I whirled around the kitchen prepping bottles, gathering outfits for school, and ensuring all the swim lesson supplies were set out. It's hard leaving Chris to take care of both kids in the morning (#momguilt) so I try my best to complete as many get-ahead tasks as possible, in hopes his morning goes smoothly.
This morning schedule description may seem mundan…

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On 20 years with Type 1 Diabetes

I think it's finally time to hit 'publish' on this post, considering it's been sitting here for, oh you know, like 2 weeks now ;-) Sometimes I "April" about things too much (this is Chris's term), and with my dad here for Christmas I realized that it's definitely a trait passed down, haha, love you dad!

To be honest, I never thought the day would come when I would say, "I've had Type 1 Diabetes for 20 years."

20 years ago a cure was 'just on the horizon' and as an 11 year old kid I took that phrase to heart - I had to. My continued existence was based solely on whatever the endocrinologist said - pancreas, insulin, autoimmune, blood sugar, islet cells, shots. I didn't know what I didn't know at that point. I had never heard of an insulin pump or glucose meter. Ketones and hyperglycemia were just big, meaningless words. Carb ratios and counting might as well have been formulas for travelling at light speed. I wasn't ov…

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