(Note: This post contains spoilers. If you are like my girl Brittany and you believe happily in the story of Santa, skip down to where it says “Diabetes is like Santa Claus.”)
My husband and I share a philosophy on Santa Claus.
Santa gets too much credit. Why should Santa get all the glory for the gifts that show up underneath the Christmas tree on Christmas morning? Mom and Dad work their tails off to provide a fun and comfortable life for our child, and to have the fun thunder (funder?) stolen by Santa Claus is unfair. “Thank you, Santa, for the Barbie and the Rockers van!” I shouted as a kid, not realizing that Mom and Dad put in some extra hours (and spent half the night assembling the stupid thing) to get that Rocker Van under our Christmas tree.
So BSparl will be fed the Santa story, but she’ll also understand that her Christmas gifts come mostly from her parents, and not from a fictional cookie thief who shimmies down the chimney. Santa doesn’t work as hard as we do, so he shouldn’t get all the credit.
Diabetes is like Santa Claus. (Welcome back, Brittany!) Only in this case, it SHOULD be the one given most of the credit for certain things. And I shouldn’t give myself so much of the blame and guilt. I have a tendency to look at a blood sugar reading and instantly blame myself for it. Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*
Since the beginning of November, I’ve been dealing with a random few weeks of feeling “real-people sick” (RPS). Like I wrote about last week, diabetes is something I’m used to and can deal with pretty well, but the common cold knocks me right on my end. I deal with colds like a guy. I hate being RPS:
Real People Sick: The differentiation between blood sugar issues and the common cold. Phrase slips out most often when the diabetic admits to not feeling well and must specify that it is not blood sugar related.
This month’s Animas “Life, Uninterrupted” vlog is about being “sick” on top of having diabetes, and about how cracked-out squirrels and I sometimes share the same vocal patterns. Unfortunately, there’s another cameo by Abby (the cat) because she’s usually lounging, all lazy, while I record these things. (That cat needs to get on the ellipmachine or something — chubby little chomper.)
Enjoy, and thanks for not judging me for the squeaky voice and the whining!
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*
It’s Thanksgiving here in the States, and I’m feeling pretty thankful. While the day is reserved for turning hand tracings into turkeys, it’s also a good day to highlight what I’m thankful for this year:
I’m thankful that we have a backyard that the cats can go [potty] in, because I was tired of cleaning that litterbox. (And I’m also secretly glad that our neighbors have a ridiculous cat that comes over and starts trouble with ours, because when they pile into the bushes out back and cause the shrubbery to vibrate with their Andy Capp-style battles, it cracks me right up.)
I’m thankful for our family and friends, who have helped Chris and I adjust to our new lives as “parents” and who make “home” a place that matters. We’re so glad to be sharing this chapter of our lives with the people and in the places we love the most.
I’m thankful for having good enough health to take it for granted, and to actually have the luxury of feeling frustrated when I’m “sick” because it’s such a foreign concept.
I’m thankful for the wonderful work opportunities that have come up in the last few years, specifically for the companies and organizations that have embraced the voices of patient advocacy and who have decided to become part of the conversation.
Clara Barton Camp (CBC) is awesome — this is an indisputable fact. I talk about CBC all the time when I’m at conferences, because there is something so unique and incredibly supportive about knowing that your fellow campers are also insulin-dependent and aren’t afraid to show it.
Part of what makes CBC so cool is that it makes you feel like having diabetes is…sort of cool. Almost everyone at camp has it, so if your pancreas happens to work, it makes you the odd one out instead of part of the WYOI (wear your own insulin) crowd. What’s more empowering than taking an isolating chronic illness and making it the common — and intrinsically cool — thread?
Which is why this video — a diabetes take on the Marcel the Shell with Shoes On — is so brilliant. It takes the Marcel the Shell concept and turns it on its diabetes head. And if you’re “in the know” with diabetes, it will make you laugh. If you listen closely, you’ll hear some of my favorite diabetes lines of all time. (Including, but not limited to: “One time I licked a glucose tab and went into DKA.”)
It takes some serious (cotton?) balls to make this video. I love it. This video was created, voiced, and edited by the talented CBC team of Abby Bayer (who guest posted here), Savannah Johnson (her post is here), Allie D, and Alissa Carberry (I think it’s time for Alissa and Allie to post, since I have nothing to link to for them).
What else can I say, other than this video had me in tears from laughing last night. Clara would be proud!
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*
“Brrrrr…it’s a little chilly outside today,” I said to BSparl as I tucked her blanket snug around her wiggly little self in the car seat. She waved at me and showed me her sock.
“Yes, that’s a nice sock, birdy. Okay, let’s get out of here and get you into the car so we can go home!”
The automatic doors parted and a brisk gust of wind came and skipped down my collar. With the baby’s car seat safely tucked into the belly of the carriage, I ventured out to find my car in the massive parking lot.
“Ha ha, where did Mommy leave the car?” I said out loud, walking up and down the parking lot aisles and pressing the alarm on my keys. Nothing. No flashing lights, no subtle little “beep” noise from my Honda. Nothing but a sea of cars and I had no idea which one was mine.
“Am I getting old?” I asked BSparl. “Mmmmmm!” she proclaimed, raising her teething toy into the air.
I walked for several minutes, combing the lot for my car. And the wind kept whipping, only this time it felt good because it kept whisking the sweat off the nape of my neck. I felt dizzy. Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*
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(Note: This post contains spoilers. If you are like my girl Brittany and you believe happily in the story of Santa, skip down to where it says “Diabetes is like Santa Claus.”) 
“Brrrrr…it’s a little chilly outside today,” I said to BSparl as I tucked her blanket snug around her wiggly little self in the car seat. She waved at me and showed me her sock.
