I guess I’m a little surprised that Charlie is OK with me coming into his class to talk about diabetes now for the third straight year. Now that he’s getting older, I would expect him to be embarrassed and cringe at the sight of me at the classroom door. But no.

It’s a bit of a mystery, but I think it boils down to the fact that Charlie thinks that having diabetes makes him mildly famous. With a coy smile, Charlie sprung up from the carpeted area, joining me in the front of the class like a magician’s assistant. He unhooked his blue pump from his waist to show his classmates, showing all sides of it proudly as if it was a completed Rubik’s Cube.

It went well, I think. There was no heckling from the second graders and no one threw fresh fruit at me. I was happy about that. Though it never fails. There’s always one kid. You know the kid.

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Oh, hi.  It's been a while, hasn't it?  Yeah.  Slacker central over here.  I read and I think about things to write but the motivation just disappeared last month (and the month before that, if I'm being honest).  I'm hoping the new year will kick my butt into action a little bit and have me posting here more often.

On to the latest: 

Olivia has been going to the nurse too frequently to treat low blood sugars.  She usually has stuff in her bag to treat, but the nurse has been insisting that Olivia go down there for every low.  In O's IEP it states that she can treat in class and there's a doctor's note in place, so I don't quite get what the deal is with the nurse.

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What the hell just happened?

Remember me blabbing away about being so fortunate and grateful to the school for providing classroom aides for Charlie? Aides, who would blend into the background and seamlessly check Charlie's blood sugar, count out carbs and give him insulin? Remember how Susanne spent the first day of school training the aides in how to use the pump? Remember how we met with the school officials and how they all signed off on the 504 plan? Remember how it was the school's idea in the first place to hire these aides for the very purpose of testing blood sugar and administrating insulin?

Well, forget all that.

Oh, and remember the morning aide who has type 2 diabetes? She has really been working out great.

She's leaving. Found another job apparently. Leaving the glamorous life of pricking fingers and counting crackers. (READ MORE)

I never thought Susanne would actually go. Not with the 3 year old. He can't sit still for more than five minutes. But we both agreed it would be pretty cool if she could swing it.

She called me at work with a definite zeal in her voice.

"I'm here!"

It's not every day that a potential vice president comes to your town; to your local middle school.

Joe and Jill Biden came to town to talk about education, the economy and healthcare. The only obstacle standing in Susanne's way was Ben. They needed to arrive at the school an hour-and-a-half before the Bidens were to speak. That's a lot of patience to ask of a 3 year old (our 3 year old). It would be nothing short of a miracle if Ben was to last long enough to see them speak. (READ MORE)

Charlie's classmates grilled me and they grilled me good. After reading the book about diabetes, I was besieged with questions. I was amazed. Adults don't ask such good questions.

A lot of the questions were about the pump:

What happens if you lose the pump? What are all those buttons for? What do you do with the pump when you go to the beach? How long can he stay off the pump?

Charlie stood up beside me and demonstrated the pump like a flight attendant.

Batteries for the pump became the hottest topic of the day:

How do you know if the batteries are low? What do you do if he needs new batteries? How do you change the batteries? Where do you get batteries?

"Dudes, they're just triple As. You can get those just about anywhere." (READ MORE)

To say we hit it out of the park with Charlie's new health aide would be an understatement. I was totally wrong. She does have experience testing blood sugar and she has seen a pump. Turns out she has type 2 diabetes!  Go diabetes!

We hit a hole in one. We knocked the cover off the ball. We laid down a full house. Scored a touchdown. Sorry. Been watching too much coverage of the National Conventions. I can't stop with the sports analogies. But seriously, folks, we really slogged a dibbly dobbly (a little somethin' for the cricket lovers).

What perfect timing. The aide is calling us as I sit here writing this. Let's listen in ...

(hushed chanting while Susanne talks to the aide) "We're number 1! We're number 1! We're numb ..."

Wait what? Can we rewind that? (READ MORE)