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)

I had been contemplating a snack--well, more like an extension of my lunch since it was barely an hour since I had a sandwich and some sweet pickles--for several minutes when the phone range.

"This is Michelle," I said. Hmmmm, that receiver sure does feel shaky, I thought as I tried to listen to the caller.

"No, she's on the phone. Can I take a message?"

Now my hands were feeling really shaky. I knew I was low.

"Is this Jeannie? Hi! How are you feeling?" Why did I continue this conversation when I knew I needed to check my sugar? And, by the way, why exactly was I going low? Before I left my office to pick up No. 2 from school, I checked in at 77. Awesome, I thought, since I had really splurged on breakfast this morning. I grabbed a handful of M&M's just in case since it would be a good 15 minutes before I would be back at home and able to eat anything. That was barely 90 minutes before this low decided to show up. (READ MORE)

On more than one occasion I've been rather surprised at how low a post-meal or random blood sugar check is. Not in a 'wow-I-did-good' kind of way; more like a 'geez-I'm-53-and-not-feeling-it' kind of way.

I don't consider myself to "suffer" from hypo unawareness, but it's safe to say that I get it quite often. I remember plenty of times waking to a fasting of around 60 and feeling great.

So when I have a day like today, it really drives me crazy.

After lunch, I was feeling pretty shaky. Not terribly low shaky, just like a going-low kind of shaky that I knew needed to be dealt with soon or it would get bad. I expected to be in the 60s and was quite shocked with an 83. I treated, thankful that I caught it early and went on my way. (READ MORE)