Ideal is not real.

95.89.90.At 11:00am in the morning, these numbers are money.At 11:00pm at night, these numbers are no bueno.I was hoping to dream of something other than numbers last night, but the fates had other ideas.  My dilemma?  I was exhausted.  Lately I’ve been priding myself on how much energy I have.  I wake up alert.  I go through my day alert.  I go to bed alert.Not last night.  Last night at 10:00pm I fell asleep hunched over my keyboard.  I woke up in a haze at 11:00, completely discombobulated.  Innately, I knew it was time to check the boys…but as I stood up my body continued to slumber.  Like...

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Defusing the bomb.

 Last month, L’s Diabetic Life was in turmoil.  It seemed like an angry tiger materialized out of thin air atop his blood sugar monitor.  The numbers were stubborn, scary and impossible to tame.Breakfast was by far the worst.  It was like the dawn phenomenon on steroids.  He’d eat breakfast, spike to the moon, and then dive.  Dive to the depths of the deepest ocean…all in the span of say, two hours.To be clear, I’m no novice when it comes to dawn phenomenon or breakfast spikes.  But there was like an eternal black cloud over every one of my old tricks.  Nothing was working and for the first time in a LONG...

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An Open Letter to Parents of Children with Type 1 Diabetes

Shame.It is a terrible terrible thing.Especially when it is for something that we have little control over.When our children were diagnosed, I know, buried deep inside all of us, there was shame.  Shame that our children would have this word attached to them for the rest of their lives.“Diabetes.”But then the doctors explained to us that it was autoimmune.  That it “wasn’t our fault.”  That it “wasn’t their fault.”So we made it our battle cry.“It isn’t anyone’s fault!  It is autoimmune!  It isn’t Type 2 Diabetes!”“Because when you have Type 2 Diabetes…it is your fault.”Ok.  Maybe we didn’t say that last line. ...

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Time

Last week I received a spam comment on a post from a year ago.  The post was entitled, "It hurts."I clicked over and read the post, feeling the entire time as though I was reading a strangers blog.  "This poor woman.  This poor poor woman."  That's all I could think.It is exactly a year later and time has lived up to its promise to heal.I'm healing.I still have a ways to go.  It still hurts.  I still have plenty of raw spots.But I am healing.I have good weeks and bad days, that's par for the course.  But I feel stronger.  My personality has returned.  I'm goofy, more confident and I'm able to laugh...

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Stuff I seen on the Internet: Vol. 3

It's been too long!  I have so much exciting information to share!On your marks.  Get set...We're starting off with A new discovery in stem cells in Japan.  Check it!Have you heard of the Asante's "snap pump?"  It recently partnered with Tidepool to bring patients better access to their data.  A win win all around.Finally!  The FDA has approved the Dexcom G4 for pediatric use.  Children from 2 to 17 now have the green light.  (Can't wait for that approval for Medtronic's Enlite system!)Billed as a tool for kids, but absolutely useful for adults with T1, Novo Nordisk hit it out of the park with their brand...

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Driver.

My boys are growing up.I don’t think I ever wished my boys would grow down per se…but maybe they could slow down a little?I swear we called J, “Baby J” for many years of his life.  And now here he is driving off in the truck, all by himself.  He’s gone from 6 in the morning until 3:30 in the afternoon and I’m supposed to be all nonchalant about the whole thing.But I feel anything BUT nonchalant.  Non/cha/lant ADJ:  A person feeling or appearing casually calm and relaxed; not anxiety = not me. var _giphy = _giphy || []; _giphy.push({id: 'xlnD8sWgnBBja',w: 245, h: 200});var g = document.createElement('script'); g.type = 'text/javascript';...

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