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March 21st, 2010
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We found 10 result(s) that match your search "parties":

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Tonight my wife and I will be attending my company holiday party. Now, I will start by saying I am pretty excited about the party this year since we are having it at the Queen Mary. I know my pocketbook would not normally allow for a night at a 5 start restaurant and then to also have a overnights stay in a legendary hotel aboard the ship is pretty exciting!
I am a little concerned about the indulging I will be doing this night. Like most guys, the term "open bar" is more like an "all you can drink challenge" especially if I know I do not have to drive anywhere. I hate what alcohol does to by blood sugar level. (READ MORE)


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You'll often hear parents of children with diabetes - myself included - moaning and groaning about the many classroom birthday parties that we must contend with. Seems it's every week that my wife gets a call from the nurse regarding an unexpected carpet-bombing of brownies or cake.

 

We deal with these situations without too much of a fuss, but still, it's yet another curve ball thrown our way.

 

I've read many horror stories through the years of classmates' parents who just don't get it. Or rather, parents who think they get it but really don't at all. Hard to believe, but I remember a story about one parent who distributed birthday treats to all of the kids in the class except the kid with diabetes. He thought he was doing a commendable thing in recognizing that there was a diabetic in the class and keeping the evils of sugar away from him or her.

 

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Diabetes is sometimes the best way to get out of things. It really can be an easy excuse in times of "emergency (parties, dates, movie hunger)." (READ MORE)


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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.

 

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Several times a year, our social calendar involves an event in which each of us is expected to contribute food to be shared by all. In some parts of the US, this is known as a "covered dish dinner"; in ours, it's called "pot luck". Depending on the event and the organizer, there will be greater and lesser degrees of coordination regarding courses, types of dishes, and quantities to be contributed -- let's face it, unless it's a same-dish/recipe cook-off, even folk without diabetes would rather have more selection than five different pans of mac 'n' cheese, two different types of fried chicken, and twenty apple pies. When you add diabetes, food allergies, and other dietary restrictions into the mix, planning for success can get a bit rough.

 

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Public transit in Los Angeles county is not the best in the world, but we are getting better.

 

I hear about people in New York that don't even need cars because they can take the train where they want to go most of the time.

 

The problem here is that everything is so spread out that I just do not see how I could ever utilize the Metro system, as it's called here.

 

But this weekend I had a fun idea planned. We finally had a Saturday with no parties, no events, and no nothing so I figured it would be a good day for an adventure!

 

I told the kids to get up early and get all showered and ready to go. "We're going to have an adventure day!"

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One of the mixed advantages of living far away from family is that when you do finally get home, there's a lot of catching up to be done. Because we've been away and not in all that close touch, we're considered the "neutral third parties", and the updating comes chock full of dish.

 

Nowhere is this more apparent then when diabetes comes into play. Siblings who'd never "rat" on each other in full-court, whole-family press, will each take you on the side and let you know that the other's numbers are being kept "too high" or "too low", that s/he doesn't test (enough), or that s/he keeps forgetting how many of which pills need to be taken, when. Sometimes one will say another's medication dosages have been increased "because s/he's not watching what s/he's eating". It's Diabetes Police by Proxy (DPP).

 

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I can't post all the photos here, but if you go over to my other blog, Major Bedhead, you can see the ridiculous post I put up in honour of Olivia's 13th birthday.

I often grimace when thinking about having another teenager in the house, but so far, Olivia's been a great kid. Yes, she's moody and listens to FAAAAAR too much Hannah freakin' Montana, but all in all, she's fantastic.

She lives with diabetes rolled into her life and is amazingly well-adjusted about it. She just rolls along with it and amazes me nearly every day. She doesn't seem to have pity parties, she doesn't complain that it's unfair (and if she did, I'd certainly feel like she'd be entitled to feel that way), she just does it. Sometimes she'll roll her eyes or sigh when it's time to do a site change, but 97% of the time, she's OK with it.
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Christmas means joy. Christmas means tales of sugar plums dancing in children's heads. Christmas means Christmas dresses.

This past holiday was my first pumping Christmas, which meant learning how to "graze" and square bolus at all the parties, how to watch for trends from "holiday stress" and how to buy a Christmas dress fit for a pump.

Typically, finding a dress is hard enough. I'll try on one hundred to find one. Some are too fancy, some are the wrong color, some are just ugh! But never has one been unfit for a pump. Until this Christmas.
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Carey Potash
Carey PotashCarey is a full-time hater of diabetes. The benefits stink. His 7-year-old son, Charlie, has been giving he and his wife the finger since November of 2003. Carey's parenting humor has appeared in various websites and print magazines. He resides in the suburbs of Philadelphia with his wife and three children. (Read More)
Lindsey Guerin
Lindsey GuerinLindsey is a typical, yet unique, Texas girl who loves shopping, movies and reading. She loves to travel and take risks. She dreams of diabetes cures, never-ending cheesecake and her own airplane. The rest you can discover in her blog! (Read More)
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