Agro

I do not deserve the faith nor praise I keep hearing from people right now. This past week has caught up with me and I feel extremely overwhelmed. My tempest broke again today, when I ran into the kitchen to pull our burnt breakfast off the stove. Dad sat in a chair ten feet from the stove, JE sat across the room preparing his lesson for church. I ran in, wondered aloud (very loud) that I seemed to be the only one able to do anything about the smoke which filled the house. I had been in the bedroom getting ready for church, big mistake. I haven't been a yeller since I left home, but all of a sudden, there it came. My character is in question here. Yelling, fine. If that had been where I left it. But door slamming followed, then worse still: I started "sorting" the closet (dejunking is a great de-stressor for me) jerking the hangers off the rack. Clothes hit the floor and seemed to explode; there were coat hangers and shirts everywhere. I had accidentally pulled down the upper closet bar. Grrrr...

This past week has been incredibly trying. JE's mom was supposed to come last Thursday, so much of my week was spent in anticipation of giving up my sewing room or my bedroom to her. Then Gram asked dad down to spend the weekend to open up bed-space at my house. On Thursday, just as I was getting ready to send dad off, we called Gram to let her know he was running a bit late. When she learned that he was driving himself down, and not having me drive him down, she panicked and told him not to come. Freak out number one on my part: I took to bed and played words with friends with Cori, who was miraculously online. Dad took off and went to the family history center. I called JE to let him know the new circumstances. Cori and I chatted, and she finally got me to a point that I was excited about mom coming and feeling like a break from my sewing room would do all of us good.

JE called his Mom to see if she needed a ride from the airport. She was waiting to board her flight, but told JE that she wasn't really feeling well and that she was thinking about not coming. She called Meri and got a ride home from the airport.

Someday soon, I'll just go put on my runners and take off for a power agro-run. Let all this frustration flow into something I know what to do with. Of course, right now, I'm just grasping for anything that resembles my old life, when I didn't have this intense new reality of someone really really relying on me and my decisions. Will I ever be able to look at food the same way again?

Friends came over to help quell my storm. Debbie, my friend who is a nurse dealing with diabetic kids, was among them. She brought a book used in her field. My hope is that it is simple enough to not overwhelm dad. He gets a vacant expression every time I talk about balancing carbs and insulin and claims that his body is different. No, dad. Not that different. Part of all of this is helping him to understand what a normal blood sugar range looks and feels like, without badgering. I'm afraid I feel like nothing more than a badger at times.

Still training, and doing a bit of research for another event.

Did you know there is a marathon in Antarctica?