My addiction with diabetes blogs began in September of 2006 when I stumbled upon the Diabetes OC. We had spent the first couple of years or so of Charlie’s diabetic life insulated in our own little world. For whatever reason, we rejected the notion of support groups, stubbornly thinking it could not help us.

But I was also going through my own honeymoon period in the very beginning, as Susanne says. I bought into the rosy notion that everything would be fine as long as we tested his blood sugar just four times a day and simply counted carbs correctly. When Susanne insisted that we get up every night, I sided with the doctors who said it wasn’t necessary. I was wrong. In doing this, Susanne took the lion’s share of the worrying during the first six months.

When I discovered blogs from other parents of children with diabetes, I was hooked immediately. The blog posts sucked me in like chapters in a novel that you can’t stop reading. Their story was my story. It was my story so many times. Camping at a child’s bedside until the carbs finally kick in and bring him up. Panic-filled nights in which his blood sugar refuses to come down. Miserable moments in wee hours of the night. I found it strangely amazing to learn that others were out there somewhere experiencing such a uniquely similar miserable moment. Misery does love company.

The blogosphere for me became a big crystal ball in which I could see Charlie’s possible future with diabetes. A teenager blogging about playing sports with diabetes. A 20-year-old blogging about diabetes in college. A 30-something discussing diabetes in the workplace. I found it incredibly valuable.

Through the years, I’ve connected with lots of diabetes bloggers through their stories and I have met some really inspiring and amazing people. I hope that others can identify with some of my ramblings regarding Charlie. Some of you have been following along for a few years now and I thank you. If you're a parent of a type 1 child and you feel weird about finding comfort in reading about a rough night that we're having, don't sweat it. It's a good reminder that you're not alone.

Speaking of which, I just checked Charlie at about 12:30 am and he was 50. He slurped down a juice box with his eyes closed and tried to drink a peanut butter cracker when I put it to his lips.

Drinking crackers at midnight. Man, I miss college.