There was a time when The Mr. and I could wear the same size pants. In fact, he put on a pair of my jeans one day and though they fit it didn't take him long to realize why they didn't feel right.

I thought we were heavy then. I'd love to be back in that size jeans. That was before kids. That was before 12 years of marriage. That was a long time ago.

When I look back 15 years ago at pictures of us I think about how skinny we looked. And though I didn't see it then, we were; especially compared to how we look now.

The Mr. has been contemplating weight loss surgery for years. We talked about it casually. We knew people who went through it. We knew the fantastic results. We knew it was a tough road.

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Too often, we look at the 7-day, 14-day, and 30-day trends on our blood glucose monitors, see numbers that look great (or horrid), and rather than seeing an A1c that confirms those readings, we get a number that would appear to have come completely out of left field. (Or Mars. Or the Andromeda Galaxy. It's hard to say exactly where.) We can either scratch our heads and wonder why the numbers aren't correlating, or we can take out our manual readings logs, our meter downloads, our CGM downloads, and our personal journals and try to figure "what we are doing wrong".

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Remember a while back, when I said Olivia was a pretty compliant, easy-going kid? Yeah, well karma just came and bit me in the arse. Holy mood swings, Batman!

I don't know what's going on with her (besides the fact that she's a 13 year-old girl), but I'm about at my wits end. She's sullen, she's mouthy, she's on the phone all. the. freaking. time. But what's really pissing me off is her failure to check her blood sugar.

Up until a week or so ago, I'd ask her every time I saw her eating something and before every meal, if she'd check. She'd say yes or no, depending, and everything was fine. Suddenly, though, I'm getting this attitude.

"Did you check?" I'd ask.

HUGE, HEAVING sigh, pffffing of the hair and a long, drawn out, sarcastic "Yessssssss, Mother, I diiiiiiiiiiid."

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"What's the best diabetes advice you've ever been given," Kerri asked the other day.

As a health writer, one of the perks of my job is that I get to talk to experts. One of the questions I often ask is, "What is the best advice you'd give someone with diabetes?"

And of all the interviews I have done, I think the best response came from Linda Dale, RN, CDE, Clinical Nurse Specialist in the Outpatient Diabetes Eduction Program at the University of Michigan Comprehensive Diabetes Center. The article was about testing your blood sugar.

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As a member of the media, you might think that I would get riled up about news stories all the time. Strangely, though, I don't find that to be true. So I guess it's no surprise that when I do get moved by a story, I get really moved.

There's not often much information in the e-newsletter from Diabetes Health magazine that pertains to me, but I look forward to reading it nonetheless. I usually scan the headlines and teasers, and maybe read a story or two. I sometimes forward it on to my mom and two aunts who help their 90-year-old type 2 mom with her diabetes management.

Today's newsletter, though, had a story that I read several times. The headline, Psychologically Dependent Type 2s Use Too Many Test Strips?, intrigued me; the story, on the other hand, made the fire rage. (READ MORE)

It's 8:30 p.m. Sunday, Mother's Day, and I have yet to check my sugar today.

It started this morning when No. 1, who is 8, ordered me to stay in bed. I knew what was coming, and even though I suspected a not-so-yummy breakfast in bed, I obliged. To his credit, I got oatmeal, which is my staple breakfast. But, I didn't get a fasting sugar. Heck, I didn't even brush my teeth first. I just did what I was told. I knew it would be the only time today that anyone pampered me.

You see, we're preparing our house to put on the market. Yes, we're definitely missing a few screws to try to sell in this market, but with a new job in a new city, we kind of have to.

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