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We found 6 result(s) that match your search "criticism":

There comes a time in everyone's diagnosis when reality sets in. This is forever. Now I know there's a possibility of a cure in my lifetime, but I'm really not counting on it. Not like I'm being cynical or negative or anything. All I'm saying is that I can't live my life clinging to that kind of hope. Hope is good, but I feel like I have to be realistic. I'd rather be proven wrong on this one than live my life anticipating something that may never happen.
With that in mind, I can be pretty hard on myself in all aspects of my life. My writing, my photography, my parenting skills, my wifery, my diabetes management, my walking routine. Even though The Mr. tells me all the time that I'm an excellent writer and that my photography skills are awesome, I still feel like he's blowing smoke. OK, deep down I know he's not blowing smoke, but I am my own worst critic. (READ MORE)

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I snuck in to the office like I was coming home after curfew. I listened for voices as I climbed the stairs to see if I could figure out where people were and if I was going to encounter anyone at the top.
As I hit the top step I was relieved to see that S. wasn't sitting at her desk. I quickly slunk into my office and plopped the fast-food bag on the floor next to my desk. I hated feeling like I had to hide my lunch, but that's the reality of it. (READ MORE)

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Over the weekend, I had a low blood sugar in the middle of the night that left me feeling like I had been beaten soundly and left in a ditch. (Covered in petrol, a la Eddie Izzard.)
It was a strange experience, though, because the "low hangover" feeling was neatly accompanied by a feeling of guilt. This low wasn't one that came out of no where and smacked up upside the head. This low was the result of a miscalculation while I was at dinner. (READ MORE)

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Over the weekend, I had a low blood sugar in the middle of the night that left me feeling like I had been beaten soundly and left in a ditch. (Covered in petrol, a la Eddie Izzard.)
It was a strange experience, though, because the "low hangover" feeling was neatly accompanied by a feeling of guilt. This low wasn't one that came out of no where and smacked up upside the head. This low was the result of a miscalculation while I was at dinner. (READ MORE)

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Over the weekend, I had a low blood sugar in the middle of the night that left me feeling like I had been beaten soundly and left in a ditch. (Covered in petrol, a la Eddie Izzard.)
It was a strange experience, though, because the "low hangover" feeling was neatly accompanied by a feeling of guilt. This low wasn't one that came out of no where and smacked up upside the head. This low was the result of a miscalculation while I was at dinner. (READ MORE)

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Blah, blah, blah, here she goes again, pissing and moaning about logging.

Back when the year was shiny and new, as opposed to snow-covered and grubby (and enough with the snow already, ok? I'm SICK of it. Sick.) I resolved to be more diligent about logging Olivia's blood sugars. And for a few weeks I was. And then I forgot for a couple of days. And then it was Thursday and I thought, well, I'll just start over on Monday. And I forgot again.

I've logged in fits and starts over the last 2 months, but mostly, I haven't logged at all. And now she has an endo appointment tomorrow and I'm not going to have that much information to give her and I'm pissed at myself.

I just don't know how to make myself log. I forget. And if I'm forgetting to log, how am I supposed to teach Olivia? I'm not setting a good example at all and they always tell you (who are they anyway?) that you should lead by example when it comes to your kids.
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