A Day Off (Embracing the Non-Diabetes in Me)

I should feel guilt.

Saturday was mine.  All mine.  I woke up, quickly got ready, and bounded out the door, all of the while, smiling and giggling. 

I had a day off.

A real day off.

The kind where you are free to do whatever you want.

And in this case, I wanted to spend one day with one of my dearest friends, doing nothing except being ourselves. 

We started off in a little coffee shop with decadent espresso and delicious asparagus souffles. 

I didn't test my blood sugar, count carbs or dose Apidra.

Instead, I savoured my food.  I actually ate it slowly while it was still hot and I didn't try to hide the chocolate shavings on my coffee from anyone because I was worried that they would sample it and I wouldn't know how many carbs it was. 

It was delicious too.

After that, my dear friend and I headed over to one of our favorite shopping locations.  We parked our car and started to walk.  Not just a hurried trip to get what we needed and go home... but a leisurely stroll through all of the aisles and reaching out to touch and admire the beauty of the items, even the ones made out of glass.

An hour later and I didn't have to re-check my blood sugar to see what the latte or the extra walking had done to my numbers.  I knew I felt good and I could simply trust that reaction.

Shortly after noon, my tummy growled a bit and reminded me that I should probably think about lunch.

I ignored it.

I didn't worry about a crash.  I just kept shopping. 

Around two o'clock, we decided to eat and picked a place known for fresh salads.  But only because we were in the mood for crunchy greens, not because we had too.

When the salad arrived, I made sure to not count each of the clementine wedges or the cranberries.  Instead, I just focused on stabbing them together on my fork, so that I could relish the flavors co-mingling on my palette. 

When we were done, we simply wanted some raspberry chocolate.  So we got it and ate it.  Without hesitation.  No weighing or measuring.  Just enjoying.

And then we shopped some more.  Driving around our town and stopping at any boutique that we desired.  We laughed until our sides hurt and then laughed even more.

Because it felt that good.

Later that evening, neither of us was hungry enough for dinner, so we went without which was freeing.  Instead, I remembered a place that sells delicious pumpkin spice lattes.  We ordered them and savoured them for our last hour of walking around.  I didn't do a combo-bolus.  In fact, I didn't do anything.

When the night had fully set-in, we knew it was time to return home.  Husbands and daughters were waiting for us. 

They were waiting for two dear friends to turn back into carb-counters, bolus givers, site changers, medical supply order'ers', boo-boo kissers, magic makers and especially mothers.

Which we happily did.

And without guilt.

Because being the best carb-counters, bolus givers, site changers, medical supply order'ers', boo-boo kissers, magic makers and especially mothers, means that I needed a day off.

Friends, Friends and More Friends

In our world of type 1 diabetes, we have managed to knit together the most wonderful group of friends.  I have friends (like you all) from the Diabetic Online Community (DOC) and friends from around our state.  We have met friends through both of my daughters diabetes camp, from our children's hospital, through parties organized by medical equipment companies, through ADA Galas and events, the JDRF walk and most recently through my oldest daughter's school.  However, one of my favorite friendship meetings is through our local JDRF coffee club.

This meeting is held monthly at our IHOP (I know right?!  Carbalicious!) and we usually draw in about 5-15 women (and sometimes a man or two) to sit and chat about all things, especially type 1 diabetes.

My group gets "it". 

There is no judgement or rolling of the eyes if you tell a story about your child zooming from 356 to 46.   Instead, you might even receive a hug or two. 

If you are unsure of how to potty train a newly diagnosed toddler, about five women will start speaking at once with suggestions.  And from that conversation, you will leave with enough information to potty train not just a toddler, but to become president of the United States and instill world peace.

And don't forget about the wonderful friend who knows another wonderful friend in the biz and brought us all free ketone meters - with strips!!  Now how is that for some cool swag?!

Seriously!  These women are amazing!

Even if I am drained from having a seven-day stretch of no sleep, I know that when I leave, my energy levels will be back up and I will probably have enough information to figure out how to adjust those pesky hormone related early a.m. blood glucose spikes in my oldest daughter.

If you haven't joined one in your area, please consider giving it a try.  Contact your local JDRF at http://www.jdrf.org/ today!

And if you meet at IHOP, I suggest the blueberry pancake syrup.

Go Ahead... Make that Gingerbread House




Another fun tradition that our family has been doing for a few years is making a gingerbread house.

(((SCREECH)))

Did I get your attention?


Oh, ya baby!  Yes, we do.  We actually make a real life gingerbread house complete with oodles of sticky frosting and sugary candy. 

Yes, our daughters have type 1 diabetes. 


(((Insert a big pause for you to collect your thoughts and to prepare for a huge paradigm shift)))


Now I am going to do the big reveal of the magical secret for making all parts of diabetes easier...

Kids first, diabetes second.

I know that this is not the first time that I have used this expression.  In fact, I tend to say it quite a bit, especially when our family is about to embark on uncharted territory, which is really quite often.

Just a few years ago, kids like ours were most likely not pumping or taking our speediest generation of fast-acting insulin (like Apidra). We use better blood test strips and have a greater view of blood sugar swings through devices like our beloved Dexie and Dexter CGMs then kids a decade ago did.

Not that this advancement in science gives me a reason to think kids first, diabetes second, but I am certain that it helps to explain that we are a new generation of parents raising children with diabetes. 

Giving a child a piece of candy for a non-hypoglycemic moment was rare, but telling your child to go ahead and make a gingerbread house was unheard of!

It happened one day while we were shopping at our local bulk food warehouse.  My oldest daughter who did not (at the time) have type 1 diabetes was lingering near the Christmas candy aisle.  She rarely asks for anything when we are in stores but on this particular trip, she was really insistent on showing me the box for a "candy house". 

My husband and I felt a bit of sadness because it didn't seem like a prudent idea and certainly, no endocrinologist would ever recommend bringing home a kit to build a "candy house". 

Suddenly, my husband leaned over and whispered an idea.  Perhaps we could get the kit and build it while our youngest daughter with diabetes was taking a nap?

I hesitated a moment and then thought about the evidence when she woke up.  No way was this going to work.  We can't build it and then throw it away.  And aren't we one for all and all for one?  No way was that "fair".

Then as if we both had the same thought at the same moment, we looked at each other with big smiles.  Why not?

Why couldn't we build a gingerbread house?

What could possibly happen?  We have insulin.  We have pumps.  We have brains that can count carbs.

Would anyone call the diabetes police on us for actively encouraging our children to play with their food? 

So we did it.  We bought a kit, we brought it home and we made the cutest little gingerbread house ever in the history of gingerbread house making!  Seriously.  We could have won awards.  I swear I heard angels singing when we were done.

OK.  Well, maybe it wasn't the best, but it was ours and it was fun.

And here is the interesting thing.... no one ate the gingerbread house.

That house just sat and sat.  Not a bite was taken.  Neither of the girls were even tempted to sample a roof gumdrop shingle or a candy cane fence rail.  Over the weeks leading up to Christmas, it became more stale and most likely a bit dusty.  By January, we were ready to throw it out.

The moment wasn't about food.  The moment was about making memories and having a good time.

Our paradigm shifted once again and we realized that it was fine to make the rules up as we went.

Now interestingly enough,  the kids who do come to our house over the holiday, tend to notice the gingerbread house right away.  Even still, something about the grandeur of the house is so impressive, that rarely do we even see another child reach out to touch it.  Mostly, there are just oohs and aahs and then running off to play.

Because who would possibly want to eat a craft project?