So, Ive been away. A lot.
I got divorced and moved back home to missouri and found myself a single parent of a newly diagnosed diabetic three year old. We thought he was autistic, we had an official diagnosis and treatment set up, then came the t1 diagnosis and bam, speaking in sentences and being incredibly social.
Its been a year and his numbers look great, we are mostly under control, but absolutely can. not. potty. train. this. kid.
Every technique used. Unfortunately he's bouncing between my house (I work full time), his daycare (not helpful), and his dad who is back in town (also working full time). That paired with still being quite behind developmentally and having issues with comprehension AND still having highs we are trying to correct in the middle of the night, we just cant get him out of diapers.
I don't know why I'm freaking out about this so much. I'm tired of my MIL getting on me about it, I guess. Between this and her not understanding my schedule (do not have time to be running him all over the place for endo, dental, AND speech therapy, I just don't, until he is more stable I dont have time for speech therapy other than what we do at home) and still being honked off that Im not vaxing him (shes a nurse), its always something. Most of us can probably relate to that.
Adjusting to not having two full time parents is rough, add in the dx, Im surprised he's come as far as he has. I still see him improving on a weekly basis, and personally I am not SUPER concerned that he hasn't fully "caught up". We are ridiculously poor and I am wearing myself ragged trying to provide for him and also find time for myself.
Luckily Ive finally gotten into a job that is getting us insurance I can almost afford. Now begins the task of finding the right PCP to help me with these issues.. its not looking good. Local support groups are unhelpful, full of mainstream parents I just do not have the social energy to wrangle with. Gaaaaahhhhh.
Through it all, I have a glowing beacon of light of a child who waves and says hello to everybody, strikes up mumbled, semi-coherent conversation with anyone who will listen and somehow knows when people are sad and need a hug.. and will do so before I can stop him. His personality is amazing, and he is not bothered at all by the daily jabs, pokes, and injections that accompany his situation.
He is way less concerned about it all than I am.
But jeeeeez. Someone tell me it gets easier. I'll believe you, I just need to hear it.