The last five days have been exhausting to say the least. My nearly non-stop lows started on Thursday. I thought it was just one of those days. But Friday brought its fair share of lows as well (though not as many as Thursday).

Saturday my family, along with my mom and dad, drove the RV from Phoenix north about two hours to Sedona, also known as Red Rock Country. The extra nearly 3,000 feet of elevation provide quite a respite from the valley heat.

On the way up, while Mom and I were attempting to entertain No. 1 and No. 2, I got that familiar low feeling. I tested immediately and rang in at 50 mg/dL. I was pretty shocked considering I tested as soon as I felt the low. I went for my Skittles and fortunately Mom had some non-diet soda in the RV fridge.

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When I look back on my blood sugars today all I can think is WTF? (READ MORE)

Some mornings you just can’t friggin get things right.

4:50 a.m. The alarm will go off in 10 minutes, but my bladder wants me to get up now. Living in the desert means it’s always dry and drinking lots of water before bed was not a good idea if I wanted to sleep past 4:50 a.m. I want to sleep for another 20ish minutes. Actually, I want to sleep for another three hours.

5:22 a.m. Get up. Again. Brush teeth, get dressed for walk, feel remarkably good about being up and looking forward to walk.

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Diabetes shows up in the most awful places. Take yesterday for example.

A little background first. Saturday night I was two hours away from home with my kids celebrating Hanukkah with old family friends. The Mr. was on call, so he stayed home. As we were preparing to leave and head to my parents' condo, No. 3 fell down a flight of stairs. No one saw her go, but No. 2 saw her at the bottom of the stairs. Actually, No. 2 saw No. 3's light-up shoes at the bottom of the stairs. This was a full flight of 10 to 12 stairs from a first floor to a basement. (READ MORE)

It was still dark when the baby started fussing this morning. I quietly rushed to her room so that neither her crying nor my footsteps on the creaky wood in our century-old house would wake anyone else.

"Shhh, shh, shh," I consoled as I picked her up, bouncing gently hoping she would think it was still nighttime.

Her pointer and middle fingers promptly went into her mouth and she rested her head on my shoulder. Those baby snuggles are something so wonderful. We quietly walked back to my room where we climbed into bed with The Mr. Who was snoring. As usual.

No. 3 settled fairly well for it being around 6 a.m. I knew I should have counted my blessings yesterday when we all slept until almost 8 a.m.

Listening to the rhythmic snoring and the intermittent sound of No. 3 sucking on her fingers, I started to hear my body talking to me, as well. (READ MORE)

If I had stomped my foot, I would have been acting just like them.

Looking at my 7-year-old and my just-turned-5-year-old, I was ranting about their ridiculous behavior.

"So what if she's looking at you?" I screamed.

"And why are you antagonizing him?" I yelled.

This was really odd behavior for me, I thought. Just an hour ago I was grocery shopping at WalMart with the baby and thinking about what good spirits I was in. I was feeling so happy that I was actually contemplating a post on how my walking routine was helping my attitude.

Grabbing the last few things in the produce section, I leaned down to look at something. When I stood up, I suddenly felt, for lack of a better word, weird. It wasn't my normal I-think-I'm-going-low feeling, so I chalked it up to a head rush. (READ MORE)