family storytelling

It’s That Time of the Year

That Time of the Year


It’s that time of the year.

It’s time for our annual insurance renewal fiasco.

It happens every year.

The pharmacy wouldn’t release the prescription.

The birthdate was incorrect.

Excuse me?

We all have the same birthdates we have always had.

Nothing has changed in that department.

They told me to call the insurance company to straighten it out.

This entailed an entire afternoon of phone calls and lengthy holds.

It eventually got resolved in my favor.

I knew it would.

I received an updated text from the pharmacy that my order was ready.

Back I went.

Where the clerk told me they couldn’t release my order.

The birthdate was incorrect.

I took a deep breath.

A very deep breath.

I was about to go full Karen on him.

But then he looked through the computer records and saw that the issue had been resolved.

I got the prescription.

As soon as I got home, the kid remembered an additional thing that he needs from the pharmacy.

I need a drink.

family storytelling

A Fresh New Level of Hell

A fresh new level of hell


They don’t tell you, when your child is first diagnosed with type one diabetes, that the worst is yet to come.

When the boys were minors, I had the situation under control.

I was in charge.

I monitored the insulin, the blood sugar, the diet, the pharmacy, the insurance, the doctor appointments.

Now I need to hand over the reins.

“Don’t you have an endo appointment this week?” I asked the Grown Son.

“Don’t worry about it,” was the blow-off I received.

“But – ”

“I’ve got it covered. Stop treating me like a child.”

Well OK then.

A few days later he sheepishly confessed that he had missed his appointment.

He forgot all about it.

I told him that he would be responsible for the no-show fee.

I made him call the doctor’s office himself to apologize and to reschedule the visit.

“When is your new appointment?” I asked him.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered,” he blustered.

And around we go.

I am completely unprepared for this fresh new level of diabetes-mom hell.

family storytelling

Netflix and Chill

Netflix and chill


Bob was painting the back door.

At 7:00 pm, it was still not dry enough to hang the door back up.

The temperature had dropped significantly, as it does in January.

The house felt like Siberia.

I had no choice.

I had to go to bed.

I piled on several dozen blankets, and then I wrapped myself up in a weighted blanket.

Like a burrito.

I planned to watch some TV.

Instead, I fell asleep.

I woke up at 10:30 fully refreshed and also fully annoyed.

This is not what I expected from Netflix and chill.

family storytelling

Rats – Ewww

Rats - ewww


It’s pouring rain today, and it’s expected to rain all night.

I guess we won’t have our NYE bonfire after all.

Which may be just as well.

Bob said, at our last bonfire, that he saw a rat in the woodpile on the corner of our property.

Say what?

A rat?

That’s it, I’m leaving home.

I’m outta here.

Bob laughed and said there is always a rat in any woodpile.

Yeah, nah, I’ll pass.

That Hell Hole has just gotten a whole lot Hell Hole-ier.

Rats – ewww.

family storytelling

The Fire Pit is Complete

The fire pit is complete

The fire pit is complete.

But we have no chairs.

No one is selling patio furniture this year.

We have plenty of beach chairs, but Bob won’t let us use them.

They have pointy feet which will dig holes into the surface of the Hell Hole.

The surface that he labored to make level.

Bob might have to build us some Adirondack chairs.

With wide feet.

So we won’t ruin the surface of our Hell Hole.

family storytelling

The Fire Pit

The fire pit

The fire pit has turned out to be a much bigger project than Bob anticipated.

He has renamed it the Hell Hole.

This seems appropriate since it all started with a conjuring circle.

We will be ready for our inaugural bonfire by Christmas Eve.

Celebrating the holidays at the Hell Hole is a fitting tribute to 2020.

We would invite y’all over, but, well, there’s that quarantine thing.

Maybe next year we can meet at the Hell Hole.

family storytelling

His Ringtone Volume

His ringtone volume


My darling husband keeps his ringtone volume on high.

And his phone rings constantly.

All day long.

I swear, I have a heart attack every time that freaking alarm goes off.

I have asked him to turn it down.

After all, his phone is always with him.

It doesn’t need to be so loud.

He doesn’t even need sound at all.

It could stay on vibrate and he wouldn’t miss a call.

Sometimes I sneak in and turn it down.

He always turns it back up.

Today he got tired of my complaining.

He made an adjustment.

Now his phone quacks instead of rings.

Still at full volume.

Whatever happens next, I swear, it will be justified.

family storytelling

My Baby is Turning 21

My baby is turning 21


And just like that, my baby is turning 21.

On the one hand, it’s gone by in a flash.

On the other hand, the kid was born yakking, and he still hasn’t stopped talking.

I’m glad for the quarantine so he can’t go out and do Stupid Stuff with his friends.

He’ll get a steak dinner at home to celebrate.

Despite the chipmunk cheeks from his recent wisdom teeth removal, I’m sending him on a beer run.

Happy birthday, Kid.

You’ve grown into an amazing young man with an impressive work ethic and a very promising future.

I’m proud to be your mom

family storytelling

A Fire Pit in the Back Yard

A fire pit in the back yard


Bob is going to build a fire pit in the back yard.

He showed me pictures of what it will look like.

Today he marked off the area with spray paint.

We now have a big pink circle with an X in the middle of the lawn.

It looks less like a fire pit and more like a conjuring circle.

I’ll admit, I’m a little anxious.

Bob laughed and told me not to worry.

But isn’t that exactly what you would expect him to say?

I’ll sleep with one eye open until this project is completed.

Or until I get summoned by demons.

Whichever comes first.

diabetes family storytelling

I’ve Been Had

I've been had


The Grown Son had an order ready at the pharmacy.

He begged me to go and pick it up.

He needs his diabetes supplies right away.

So I went.

However, I hit traffic.

There was a 20-minute stop for road work.

I was tempted to turn around and go home.

But he can’t wait for his insulin.

Eventually I made it to the pharmacy.

I hit the same 20-minute stop at the same intersection on the way home.

And then I got caught in train traffic.

For two trains.

When I told this to the Grown Son, he burst out laughing.

Apparently he knew about the road work.

That’s why he asked me to go on the pharmacy run.

I’ve been had.