DiabeticParents.org Blog
At one of my last doctors appointments, we talked about carb counting. I told my doctor that I don't always count my carbs by "how many carbs it has in it." That after several years of being on the same carb/insulin ratio and eating many of the same snacks over and over again that I now look at a snack and think, "3 units."
I'll look at 2 or 3 slices of pizza as "x" amount of units insead of calculating how many carbs and then figuring out how many units I would need. No, I've eaten this same pizza countless times, and now to me it's "x" amount of units. Same when I go out to eat at establishments and things. If it's the same dish, and I eat the same amount I usually do, it's "x" amount of units.
Don't get me wrong. I haven't given up carb counting entirely. In fact, I do my fair share of carb counting. My wife is always cooking something new. Or she uses a new sauce, I eat somewhere new with clients, or I eat more or less than I usually do. That's where the carb counting comes in. But for me, most of the time it's a simple snack or meal that I've had over and over again. Or I can tell myself, 'it's only "x" amount of carbs instead of the usual amount of units.'
So why get upset about my method if it clearly works? Am I the only one that does this? My last A1C was 6.9. And continually improving. So why ask me to make sure that I am counting out my carbs on meals and snacks that I eat everyday if I stay within normal range after eating them?
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Yesterday was one of those nasty days outside. The temptingly warm temperatures of spring we had been experiencing quickly turned to this:
Ick.
So my little boy and I searched through recipes to do for my Burnt Apple site. My cooking class theme this month is a Mom and Me class. So we're working on some fun Mom and Me recipes.
And when we searched through recipes we found these magic middle cookies. He read the word magic and was hooked.
So we made them, and unfortunately when you have a little boy helping you, this tends to happen:
But we had a great time, and the afternoon passed quickly.
Today both kids are out of school and with the snow coming down, I think this calls for some serious time on the hills sledding.
Have a great weekend!
-Traci
When I was a little girl, I kept my future goals list short. And updated often.
For instance, in second grade, my future goals listed included the names of the boys I was going to marry. I narrowed the list down to 8, but each week I updated it depending on how nice or mean they had been to me that week. (I was making sure that I had backup!)
As I got older and into high school, teachers encouraged us to set goals constantly. And for them, it had better include the word "college" in it. Only we had very different views on college life. I wanted the whole experience--the fun, the moving out, the roommates, then class and studying.
I even knew the type of person I was going to marry. I always had a feeling it would be someone that was the opposite of what I dated. I usually dated shorter, bleach blonde hair live-on-the-slopes or the beach kind of guys. West coast boys since that was where I was from. I ended up marrying a tall, dark haired handsome guy from the east coast. Go figure. The one trivial thing I had on my list was that he had to have nice teeth. Thank you list. I did get a guy with good teeth.
Beyond marriage, having kids, and having a lot of money, there wasn't much else from that childhood list of goals that could foresee my future. How could I foresee future goals as being "find a job that would provide us insurance?" as being a goal? After working for ten years away from my family doing 13 hour shifts, I made it a goal to have a job that allowed me to stay home with my family but still make close to the same income. I get to do that. I am living my goals. And while I may not have a lot of money and a beautiful mansion like I wanted as a child, my home now is better than any mansion could ever be. I feel comfortable, I feel loved and accepted here. No house (except for the beachhouse in california that I will one day have...hopefully) can ever bring the feel that my own home has.
Thank you childhood goals for not predicting too much of my future. The turns and loops and surprises have been scary, exciting, daunting, and completely unreal at times. But I wouldn't trade it for the world.
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Lately we've had some real Olympic moments in parenting. So in the spirit of the Olympic games coming to a close this week, we thought we'd bring you our own memorable Olympic moments:
"I CAN'T WATCH TV OR PLAY THE WII, BUT CAN I.....?":![]()
Silver Medal
After countless times of asking the kids over and over and over to please listen to us, we grounded them for one day from the Wii, TV, and the computer. So what does my dear sweet daughter ask? "Mom, we can't watch TV, or play the Wii, or play computer games. So can you play a DVD on your computer so I can watch a movie. You didn't say I couldn't do that."
"DAD TOLD ME IT WAS OKAY."![]()
Gold Medal
Our son just becomes more and more like his Dad everday. My daughter and I were exercising to a Billy Blanks DVD. (Well, she was laughing at me as I shouted at Billy Blanks in pain). She was doing situps with me, and her brother crossed the room and sat on her, then proceeded to fart on her loudly. (Mind you, he's only in preschool). He then turned around, sat on me and farted on me loudly.
He then stood up, a grin on his face, put his hands on his hips proudly and said, "Dad said it was okay to do that. He teached me how," and then walked out of the room.
"THE DOG BURPED, NOT ME!!!"
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Bronze Medal
My classic one is blame the dog. Those poor dogs get blamed for everything. I let our lab stay in during dinner one night. She proceeded to promptly plop herself down at the kids feet to catch any possible falling leftovers. Several minutes into our meal I hear a loud burp. I started to get mad at the kids and remind them of their table manners. The kids started to protest that it was Sadie, not them. But we didn't buy it. We told them there was no way that Sadie could've burped that loudly. They fervently denied that it was them that had burped and kept blaiming it on the dog. Later on that night we were sitting and watching TV after the kids went to bed. Our lab came out, sat down at our feet, then let out a large, dog food smelling burp. The next morning we apologized to the kids.