If life is in fact a series of actions and consequences (and good Lord, I hope it isn't), then the fact that I eventually developed type 2 diabetes (known affectionately around the Rummel-Hudson compound as "the Beedies") is about as mysterious as why it gradually gets lighter outside at roughly the same time each morning. ("Did someone install stadium lights out there? Lets investigate. Oh, look, the sun...")

In college, I lived a life of excess. Despite the fact that I also drank way more than I should have, the main culprit was food. Glorious, wonderful food. I live in Texas, so take those food items and deep fry them. (To this day, the idea of chicken fried steak repulses my northern friends, and yet just now, when I typed those three lovely words, I got a little slobbery.) I drank too much soda, I ate too much crap, and if something green ever went past my lips, it was probably an M&M. (READ MORE)

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I recently told a new co-worker about my diabetes. There was a little confusion, in which I clarified that I was type 1 (although I don't think that cleared things up a whole lot). Plus there was the typical response, like the number one question of "So what can you eat?"

This is where the differences of type 1 and type 2 strongly rear their heads. I replied that I can eat anything I want basically. It was followed by apple chips and an invitation to Jell-O.

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One underlying theme of diabetes blogs and complaints is the difference of our daily routines from those of people who have never known a blood glucose test, never chosen foods based on specific ingredients or an organization's endorsement, never had to dress in a manner different from those around them, and never had to follow a ritual not of the mainstream. Yet we see, meet with, and talk to people who do this on a daily basis, who could never think of not doing this (or who would never consider it)... who do not have diabetes, nor are they housemates of people with diabetes. (READ MORE)

Being a dad with diabetes can have some affects on your family that you may have not thought about. I always show and explain as much as I can about my type 1 diabetes to my children, but there are times that my diabetes shows its ugly face in their lives.

Like this story:

I remember back to an event at our church when my son was five. It was a neighborhood fair and there were games, food, and bounce houses of every style you can think of. Each of the church members was asked to bring a dessert or casserole to share. Well, one family brought a huge box of individual wrapped Twinkies.

My son comes running over to me and asked if he can have one and of course I said okay. He grabbed a package of yellow squishy goodness and brought it over to us so we could help him get it open. As I am opening the package I can see his little eyes staring in wonderment at this very strange looking cake-like sort of thing.

I ask, "Have you ever had a Twinkie?" (READ MORE)

There are some days that-despite fresh comments from my husband about 'someday having to cut off Mommy's foot'-I say to him "I'm going to get some ice cream." Those are usually the days he knows I need my fix to feel better because stress in one form or another has gotten the best of me.

And then there are the days when I sit in the parking lot of the grocery store eating a triple chocolate Drumstick because I know I can't scarf it down before I get home. (I bet this gets eaten on the way home, the cashier quips with a smile.) I head to the store under the auspices of getting milk or cereal for the next morning, but it's also an excuse to find something to feed my nasty habit. I really can't pass up a candy bar stand in a grocery store; although, I used to be able to. (READ MORE)

Recently, my mom and I were talking about our eating habits. When she was a teacher, she said, there were typically goodies in the teacher's lounge. Every carb-heavy, sugar-filled concoction you could imagine. From donuts to stolens to cookies and cakes. She said if she could just hold out until the kids left for the day, she felt pretty good about making it home without touching anything. If she happened to grab one of those treats first thing in the morning, though, she was extra super diligent for the rest of the day, she said.

"Oh, man! Not me!" I said. The earlier I cheat, the more likely I am to be bad for the rest of the day. She was shocked at my admission. (READ MORE)