I got a "high" from a low.

So last night started out pretty rough. Because I ridiculously feel the need to share my entire life on FB- I'm sure you've already heard all about my little "skillet incident." Needless to say- I will not be putting skillets in the oven for quite some time- no matter what a recipe calls for. Almost 15 hours later, all three fingers are "back to normal." What upset me the most (other than realizing my sheer stupidity in trying to pick up a hot skillet handle) was the fact that all the drama left me no time or energy to make this new "Cauliflower Mac & Cheese" recipe I'd been dying to try all week.

I pretty much was "done" by 6:15 pm.... forcing the family into pjs and mandating a "movie night." Instead, Sebulsky and I were treated to the absolute most hilarious hour and a half of our lives. Harper decided to entertain us with a "dance party performance" which was interrupted by Saul who came busting through doing what he called the "dinosaur dance" a combination of spinning in circles while roaring like a T-Rex and pretending to claw the air.

It was sometime between the 3rd degree burns and dance party that Saul recognized-  then-  treated himself for a low.

Somehow I didn't quite realize the monumental-ness of the event at the time and kinda passed it off as "aww so cute."

But. This. My. Friends. is HUGE. Like... really HUGE.

We were all sitting on the couch when Saul started whining. He kept it up- but because the CGM wasn't beeping we chocked his whininess up to wanting to watch Cars or play on the ipad and ignored him. We didn't think much when he hopped off the couch and ran into the other room. He came back a few minutes later chugging one of his "emergency juices" which he had gotten down by himself off the back shelf. He managed to pull the straw off the back of the juice box - push it in the hole and drink the entire contents while in route to the living room. He announced to us all "low" "low" "low." We immediately grabbed the meter and checked him. BG 41.

I was so elated with him that I kinda just forgot about that scary 41. I was happy that he recognized the feeling of being low - that he attempted to communicate it through whining (which we failed to realize) - and most importantly that he knew what to do - and did it. In essence- he administered his own "medication." At 22 months he treated his first low all by himself.

We praised him. We kissed him. We hugged him. We encouraged him. It was our first "big" step to self-advocating... an essential life skill for all kids- but especially for Saul.

A juice box, half a PB sandwich and a quarter of a banana later he was back to dinosaur dancing.

Small steps my friends... small steps.