Sweet sixteen

The twins are sixteen years old. Yes, it's true. Wasn't it just a few minutes ago that they were turning five? Or is it just that their fifth birthday party (which almost no one came to) was so horrible that I can't forget it? We do tend to remember the bad stuff, more so than the good stuff. The good stuff, unless it's REALLY good, just gets rolled in with everything else in our memories that's unproblematic and kind of vanishes. 

What do you think of the birthday cake? It's kind of girly, I admit. Teen B and I chose it because it didn't look like any of the other cakes at King Soopers -- the colors were unusual. Then I found the wonderful unicorn candles to put on it (the horn and the two ears). When Teen A saw it, he was absolutely horrified. (He's a little more conventional than Teen B.) I can see this birthday cake going down in family history, and not in a good way.

It tasted OK, though. The frosting was a bit gross but the cake itself was fine.

I had gotten a bit stressed out about presents ahead of time, but eventually calmed down. And it didn't matter -- the kids had low expectations, which were met. Teen A received the headphones he'd asked for, two pairs of shorts that he didn't want (he told me that he isn't going to wear shorts this summer, uh huh, sure), a big box of chips, and 3 Milka chocolate bars. Teen B got 3 folders for school, a new black hoodie, a big box of chips, and 3 Milka chocolate bars. Rocket Boy sent the usual box of chocolates and an interesting 3-D puzzle of a clock that I doubt we'll put together until he comes home. The generous aunts sent checks/Amazon gift cards. 

Teen A was so uninterested in his birthday that Teen B and I had to drag him out of the desk room and away from his stupid video games to open presents. Every present bored him or annoyed him. I thought about how in another family, the parents might get angry at this reaction, but I didn't feel anger. I felt kind of sorry for him. Being a teenager today is sort of horrible, and of course being a teenager in general, everywhere and at every time in history, is sort of horrible. But today, in our current video game/smartphone world, teenagerhood seems especially awful. 

Teen B was more fun to celebrate with, but he wasn't very excited either. Neither boy wanted to practice driving ("Not on my birthday!"), nor did they want to do homework. So after we got through presents and cake and a phone call with Dad, we all went our separate ways -- them to play video games and me to read in my room. I told them about how when I turned 16, we tied sixteen sugar cubes to blue ribbons and hung them from the chandelier, but they didn't want to try doing that...

I felt really sad afterwards. I don't like March, I don't like their birthday, I don't like celebrating it without Rocket Boy, and I think the teen years are hard. But anyway, we got through it.

Oh, and we went out to dinner at Murphy's Tap House in Louisville. We were going to go to Red Lobster in Longmont, I thought we'd all agreed, it seemed like a great idea -- and then Teen A didn't want to go. I told Teen B we'll go next week, even if it's just me and him. Teen A doesn't get to spoil everything. But in this case it seemed more important that we be together on their birthday, so we went to his choice of restaurant.

I am very tired today, not for any good reason, so this will be a muddled post. The real tiredness, the Daylight Saving Time spring forward tiredness, should start tomorrow, because that's when we have to get up an hour earlier. This morning I could have gotten up at any old time, no worries. But I got up around 8 (old time) / 9 (new time), which would have been fine except that I slept badly last night. I had heartburn from all the weird things I'd eaten during the day (cake with thick, gaggy frosting, anyone?), and I decided that rather than take an antacid -- which sometimes triggers vomiting, depending on what's going on in my stomach -- I would just turn my light on again and read for a while, see if that cured it. Probably not a good idea, although it worked. I think I turned the light off again around 2 or 3 am or so (old time). I don't really remember. Anyway, today I'm a zombie. I want to go to the grocery store and get a newspaper, but I don't want to drive in this condition. Maybe I could get a twin to drive me. Ah, forget it, it's already 4 pm, probably all the papers are gone.

It doesn't matter.

But anyway, yes, the twins are now 16. That sounds really old, though at the same time still young. I just read (finished it last night, in fact, around 2 or 3 am) Anne Lamott's book Some Assembly Required, about her son's girlfriend giving birth to their child when he was 19, and then the two kids try to raise the baby. So, three years from now the twins could be doing that. Hmm. No.

I really didn't like that book, incidentally, and plan to leave it in a little free library at my earliest opportunity. Partly because I read that her son, Sam, was a meth addict until he got sober at age 22, so that means he was probably a meth addict when the book was taking place -- it ends when the baby turns 1, when Sam would have been 20, almost 21. He probably didn't just suddenly become a meth addict after the book ended and then quickly get sober a year later. But there's absolutely no indication in the book that he's struggling with anything like that. The only hint is that at one point he's quit smoking and then he gets mad at his girlfriend and goes out and buys a cigar. But other than that, no mention of him struggling with any drug or alcohol, even though Anne herself is a recovering alcoholic/addict, as are her two brothers and many of her friends, and so there are plenty of mentions of parties without alcohol, etc. But nothing about Sam taking a different path at the time.

And that makes the book seem dishonest. It's a pretty big gaping hole. I think what people like about Anne Lamott's writing is that she always sounds so honest when talking about herself. Of course, she's clearly shaping events in her life into neat little stories, I get that, but still, she sounds honest. And this book didn't sound honest, plus, apparently wasn't honest. It may have been honest about her, but it wasn't honest about her son (who is credited as a sort of co-author) and that bugged me. I want it out of the house.

***

Other than the birthday, my main activity this week was seeing my doctor (and getting bloodwork done beforehand). As I expected, my A1c was up, to 7.7 this time, which is bad. It should be below 7. Six months ago it was 7.5. I see my dietician next week and she won't be happy. It's because I've been eating tons of sugar, have been ever since I started wearing bands on my teeth. The whole thing is so stupid I want to run around in circles screaming about it, but I don't. 

Now my doctor wants me to try Mounjaro, which is the other weight loss/diabetes drug (other than Ozempic, I mean). It sounds just as bad, only in this case I would be giving myself injections once a week instead of taking a daily pill. Oh joy. I don't really see how I can get out of this, so I am probably going to say yes (she gave me the weekend to think about it), but I will try to put it off until after our challenging spring break in St. Louis and my colonoscopy a week and a half later.

I keep reminding myself that I don't have to keep taking Mounjaro, I can just try it and if it makes me miserable, I can stop taking it. And then we can move on.

But I'm dreading it anyway. What if I get stomach paralysis? What if my hair falls out? What if the drug makes me suicidal? I do not like being a guinea pig for a drug, and that's what I think everyone is who takes one of these drugs. I don't think there's been near enough testing. I might be OK with taking the drug in five years -- I mean, probably not, but more OK than now.

Oh, and I have a hernia. I *thought* something was wrong with my belly button. Was it a month ago? six weeks? that I had very bad pain in the belly button area? I just looked back over old posts and I think I didn't ever mention it. Anyway, it was sometime in the last couple of months. I almost forgot to ask my doc about it, but when she had me on the table and was poking and prodding me, I remembered. "There's something funny about my belly button," I said and she said, after poking and prodding, "Yes, you have a little hernia." But she doesn't want me to get it fixed until after I take Mounjaro and lose some weight. God!

Oh well.

***

OK, enough of all that. The other event of the week was Teen A's IEP meeting -- in which we learned that he is no longer eligible for an IEP, based on his most recent test results. He will hopefully drop down to a 504 plan, which means accommodations but no special class, no special help. Since Teen A has been on an IEP since 4th grade, this is a huge shift. I'm feeling lost just thinking about it. He's pleased -- he didn't like being "special ed," didn't see it the same way I do. I think of it as a safety net -- he thinks of it as being "different," having something wrong with him.

So, OK, on into the brave new world without the crutch of an IEP. It's very scary. I'm trying to be OK about it.

This coming week Teen A has a dentist appointment -- with our flaky dentist who will probably cancel the appointment at the last minute, but we're just going to see. My book group meets that night, so that'll be nice. I see my dietician on Thursday, so I can discuss Mounjaro with her. And on Friday Teen B and I are going to the school musical, "Big Fish." I wrote "Go Fish" on the calendar, but that was wrong.

It snowed this past week, on Friday, but by this afternoon all traces of it were gone. We're supposed to get more snow next week, on Thursday, I believe. Hope that doesn't interfere with seeing the musical.

Other than that, it'll be just a lot of getting used to Daylight Saving Time. Maybe by next Sunday it'll start to feel normal. Like being 16.