Feeling sorry for myself....

This post could have a few different titles....Still not the grandma.....Single mom and a house worth of work ....Lows kicking my ass...... the list would go on and on, but "Feeling sorry for myself" seems to be the best title, let me explain.

Owl hat

Football cocoon

I was really excited for the weekend to come, I really needed the three days off from work and I had "hoped" to make a trip to see my grandson (ooops grandson to me....son of my step-son to them) son's son in PA. I had been talking to him over the last few weeks about getting together to take the "newborn" pictures that I was soooo looking forward to. I'm a professional photographer and I love love love newborn pictures. I even went back to crocheting so I could make the various photo props (egg shell, football cocoon, blankets, newborn hats) so I could photograph him in them. I was so excited and proud of what I was going to create for "all of us" to enjoy. I gave his wife the football cocoon and owl hat that I crocheted as a baby shower gifts..she seemed so excited and loved them. They seemed excited about the newborn pictures too.

I guess I was wrong because I woke up to pictures posted on Facebook of the baby's one month professional pictures. I guess they had a different plan. This is the part where I was feeling sorry for myself.....

So now the weekend plans were no longer to make the trip to PA to take the pictures. When upset, I tend to get really busy and do anything that is labor intensive. I have hedges that spread across my front yard and needed to be trimmed and cleaned up. Great project as far as being labor intensive! I set out to do this, in direct sunlight, high humidity, temperature around 85 degrees and a whole lot of hurt to take out on the unsuspecting hedges. It took me over four hours, a bucket load of sweat and a roll of paper towels (for sopping off sweat) to feel like I had exhausted the anger and hurt.

 What I didn't think about was what the "labor intensive" work would do to my blood sugar! It was ugly!!!! Hence..."Lows kicking my ass" to the tune of a very stubborn reading of 52. I couldn't get the number up from there for quite some time. Felt like a sopping wet, frustrated, exhausted, stumbling, shaking pile of crap-o-la.

So, feeling sorry for myself this weekend was not how I wanted to spend it, but I do have a very well groomed yard complete with beautiful manicured hedges. The pictures will be treasured when I look back at them, someone else's baby will get to wear the things I crocheted when she gives them away, and I will remember this weekend's mantra....When life kicks me in the ass....diabetes is right there to join in on the ass kicking!!!!