I Spoke too Soon

First, an explanation, I measure all of Daughter’s food. Because of her diabetes, I need to know how many grams of carbohydrate in everything she eats so I can calculate how much insulin she needs to cover the carbs. When I cook supper, I generally cook two servings. Leftovers are rare around here, because it makes figuring nutrition information harder, and it is also too tempting for her to go in and help herself to more later. When we’re in restaurants, we have a book that provides us information on much of the food. For food not listed, I guess. Sometimes I do really well, and other times she ends up with a blood sugar that is too high or too low.

I mentioned how pleased I was when she actually followed directions and added hot water to the dehydrated potatoes before she tried to cook them this time. Then, I discovered she followed the directions so completely that she had added water to the carton, meaning that rather than making 2 servings, she’d made well over 30. I quickly put the potatoes in the refrigerator, and told Daughter that she’s going to eat lots of potatoes the next few days. Of course, I have no idea what a serving size is or how many carbs are in the food I’m serving her now, as the nutrition information is for the potatoes while they’re still dehydrated.

Wednesday, I created a casserole with the potatoes and the leftover chicken and grilled onions and green pepper from the fajitas Monday night. I also threw in some salsa, reduced fat sour cream, and cheese. Daughter loved it. I’m not sure that’s the lesson I wanted her to learn. Mess up the potatoes, and Mom creates delicious new meals. I did okay on calculating insulin—she was on the high end of her target range at bedtime.

The good news in all of this was when I asked her about what she’d done with the potatoes, she immediately owned up to what she’d done, and when I explained that it was a problem, she apologized and told me she hadn’t known, which I think was accurate. It’s another sign of her mental deficits. Most people would realize that to make breakfast for 2, you don’t need more than 30 servings of potatoes. Poor Daughter doesn’t think that way. She is very literal. The first time she used the potatoes I told her to read the directions, not follow them. So, she read the directions, she didn’t follow them. She learned from that mistake, and this time she followed them—even though they were designed for use in a restaurant or institution.

But when I explained what she’d done wrong, she was appropriately apologetic and willing to accept my explanation. There was a time when I carefully considered whether or not to correct her, because I knew any correction would likely lead to a rage. This time she apologized, said she didn’t know, and accepted my explanation without protest. I’ll keep that in mind as I try to figure out creative ways to make use of the rest of the potatoes.