Diabetic Recipes
I took Charlie to a party on Saturday. It was in a large, old church hall with high wooden rafters and lots of wide-open space. When we opened the door, Charlie sprinted like a racehorse out of the gate, joining his friends who were busy whipping rubber balls at each other's heads at high velocity.
We had already discussed that we were going to pass on the pizza and Charlie was cool with that. Although many college students (and my high school humanities teacher) would be of a different opinion, Charlie does not like being high all night.
Charlie has an interesting way of describing things. He tends to invent his own words that end in "er." For example, for a party like this one, he would typically wonder if there was going to be a "jumper" there. Translation - a trampoline.
When talking hockey, he doesn't say he wants to play the position of forward. He would say, "I want to be a forwarder."
At the zoo, he's always anxious to see a "hopper."
On the diabetes front, the party was going fine. The average bystander would have no clue that the little maniac going 100 miles per hour had a very serious disease nor would they know that I was the father of a child with diabetes. Though I wonder if anyone would pick up on the subtleties if we were being studied like gorillas in the Congo; if hidden in the crowd of parents and family members, someone was watching us, observing the way the adult and child diabetic interact with each other.
Maybe then they would see that the adult stares at his child noticeably more than the other fathers stare at theirs. Or maybe they would see that the adult approaches the child every 20 to 30 minutes to ask him something quietly in his ear to which the child mouths "I'm OK." Or they would see the adult and the child walking quickly from the center of the hall to a table where the child would sit and drink a juice box, his face flush.
They might also observe that the child had to practically pull the adult away from the balloon man when it was time to leave.
Sorry, but this guy was sick. Check out the chopper he made for Charlie. And he was just getting warmed up. He was The Vincent Van Gogh of ballooning arts.
We left the party a little early, avoiding the cake as well. No pizza or cake! A victory for the adult of the diabetic child.
Once he got his greasy mits on that goody bag, Charlie could care less about pizza or cake.
"Whoa! Dad! Look what I got!" he said, digging deep inside the bag.
"A Christmas Farter!"
Translation - a holiday-themed whoopee cushion.
Wow, I can only imagine what a triumph it must be to get a little boy out of a party minus the intake of pizza and cake!
PS: Nothing wrong with being high all night! Err... ummm... well... college was awesome.
I would have to say you are quite protective of your little boy. Diabetes or not, it's going to start to get old. You are making him hate his illness even worse because of it. And go to a party and not get any food. Why can't you give him some, not all of what he'd like. Then he won't feel so bad about his illness. But after having T1 for 14 1/2 years, it doesn't get any better, so give him a little breathing room. I'm am not trying to come across mean, but really, come on.
I would have to say you are quite protective of your little boy. Diabetes or not, it's going to start to get old. You are making him hate his illness even worse because of it. And go to a party and not get any food. Why can't you give him some, not all of what he'd like. Then he won't feel so bad about his illness. But after having T1 for 14 1/2 years, it doesn't get any better, so give him a little breathing room. I'm am not trying to come across mean, but really, come on.
stephbrom: thanks for your comments. I have to say, though, that you're way, way off on this. Charlie is in the 1st grade. He has about 800 pizza and cake parties a week. Trust me, when it comes to food, Charlie is not in the least deprived and has PLENTY of breathing room. PLENTY. You've missed the point. The point was that he was having so much fun at this party, he could care less about the pizza. If you're picturing a sad little diabetic kid sitting at a table with no food while the other kids were chowing down, you have it wrong. It wasn't like that. We happened to leave the party before they broke out the cake. Had they broken it out while we were still there, he would have had cake. Knowing Charlie, he'd still be licking the icing off the plate this morning. He left the party extremely happy. We've been at this for five years and he doesn't hate his illness. Choosing when he should and when he shouldn't eat something that could potentially affect his health will never get old. Not for me.
Carey: Kudo's to you... You are exactly right. I can not tell you how many times my 2nd grade Type 1 son comes home from school and in his "little Diabetic notebook" the nurse puts..."had a birthday today..cupcake at snack.. or had a popcorn party today.. etc..It happen at least once a week. so good for you.. you are doing your son a great justice. Keep it up.. I'd have you in my corner any day:)
First, I want to say that whenever I see a post up at Diabetes Headlines with an unusual title at blogabetes I always click on it because I know it's probably you. When I saw "Diabetic in the Mist" this morning I thought, that's got to be Carey.
Secondly, we (parents of kids with D) know you are not depriving Charlie of anything. If anything you are teaching him responsibility. There is a time and place for everything. Some things are just not appropriate or good for you. That is something every child must learn, D or not.
You know, if you had a post about how Charlie was 350 and you let him eat cake and ice cream anyway (which I've done before with Riley on rare occasions). You'd have someone commenting that you shouldn't have done that either.
Carey, we are all doing the best we can. That's all we can do.
Also, we avoid pizza at all costs too. That, and lasagna, are the only foods that cause Riley's sugar to be out of control for an inordinate amount of time. No matter what kind of combo bolus we use Riley will start out OK and 4,5 ,6 hours later he'll be high and stay that way for several hours despite several boluses. "Fitting in" is just not worth the damage it can do.
Carey - Once again, I loved this entry. And I agree with Penny. I know if I see a headline like "Sugar-free Bananas for Bonzo" I know it's you. LOL. That balloon chopper is awesome. I can assure you that Charlie won't hate the D because of you. He might hate it because it sucks and it f**ks with everything in his day sometimes (And I don't think that hatred is a bad thing. Diabetes EARNS it). But it will have nothing to do with you. Trust me. 27 years later - with a mother who OFTEN told me "NO." Period. End of story. And a father who used to pack rice cakes and peanut butter for birthday parties. I can assure you that any hating he does of D will be completely unrelated to your love, guidance, and patience with the him and with dealing with this disease. That said. Is a hopper a kangaroo?
Ha! Ryan, I'm sure you would know nothing about that.
Cabinscrue: Thanks very much! Very kind. My babysitting rates begin at $100/hour and you must fly me out first class.
Penny: You nailed it. Either it's too many treats or not enough. Can't win. Thanks for the encouraging words.
Nicole: Sugar-Free Bananas for Bonzo? I love that band. Hearing of your mother and father's efforts is really touching and obviously it hits home. Thanks for your support. Yeah, he digs the marsupials. Did I spell that right?
I'm a total "Dian Fosse-er". Especially at restaurants. I'm always scoping out the scene where ever I go trying to catch someone testing or I wonder if the juice box a child is drinking is to treat a low. I "Dian Fosse" people all the time.
Brendon doesn't even like birthday cake and it has nothing to do with having diabetes.
Alex and I have hand signals! Thumbs up means feeling "high" not "ok". Thumbs down means "low" and two thumbs together (like a football goal) means "feeling great". I can imagine how weird that looks!
Carey, My comments did seem harsh after reading it, I'm sorry. I don't know you, but in just what I've read, you seem like you are doing such a great job with your son. I DID have an image of a sad little boy, at the table, with an empty plate, and tears in his eyes. But thank you for clarifying. You are such a funny, and creative writer. Thanks for keeping it up too. There are a lot of writers on Dlife that don't write for months. We all need, and look forward to reading as much as we can. So, thank you!