I joined Tu Diabetes recently.

If you feel like your page is being spied on by a guy sitting on a bench across the street in a grey overcoat and a newspaper with two holes cut out for eyes , well, it has. It's me.

I've been snooping around in the parents of kids with type 1 group, ogling your A1cs.

I've spotted some very nice ones.

Seeing such a selection gets me in that envious, wanting mode - the way I get when let loose in a good record store.

"Whoa! 6.8! That's rare. I don't have this one."

"Wow, 7.2! I don't have this either. I thought they broke up?"

"Ooh, a 7.0 live in UK bootleg. I have to get this!"

"This 7.4 is also pretty cool. I only have their 8.7 and their 8.9."

But these desirable A1cs must be returned to the shelves.

When filling out my own profile at tudiabetes, I was hesitant to fill in Charlie's A1c. The 9.6 is not something we're proud of. I wanted to just skip the question entirely like I've done with past forms that asked for my checking account balance, SAT score or whether I belonged to a terrorist cell.

But, I didn't. I put the 9.6 out there for all to see. We were in the mid-8s when we were giving Charlie manual injections, but we never came close to breaking the 7 barrier. It has been a long and difficult adjustment to the pump for us. 10 months now.

But something has changed recently. Something I dare not even speak of. Susanne and I don't even utter the words to each other for fear of ruining the moment.

Because a moment is all that it may be.

So, yes, I do get a bit jealous when looking at your children's latest A1cs, but I can only hope that Charlie will have his own "A1c's Greatest Hits" in the not-too-distant future.