The nurse slapped the small piece of paper down on the table.

I glanced at the 8.2 and then looked away, disinterested. I figured as much. Like I said, it’s been a high summer.

I spoke to the nutritionist first, then the CDE and then the doctor.

Charlie’s height is trending fine, but his weight had dipped in the last three to six months. Despite the A1c of 8.2, Charlie couldn’t have heard better news from the dietician.

"Let’s up his food. Make it more like 185 to 200 carbs per day."

I confessed that I probably restrict eating more than I should. I think I sometimes equate larger carb intake with higher blood sugars. But I know that’s not always the case as long as he’s covered with the right amount of insulin. I used milk as an example, telling the dietician that we give Charlie the same 4 ounces of milk for breakfast that we did when he was much younger. Mostly out of habit I guess, but I explained how ridiculously small it looks in his glass.

"Yeah," the dietician said. "4 ounces is nothing."

We have so many different preset carb ratios throughout the day that it’s embarrassing. When our CDE asks to see them, it’s as if she’s asking to see what type of underwear I’m wearing.

"What if we just made it 1 unit of insulin for 30 grams across the board," she suggested.

I’m just not sure. Odd as they may appear on paper, it took us years to find those levels.

They’d like us to cut out the blood sugar check that typically comes two to three hours after breakfast; the mid-morning snack. "Just bolus for the food," they say.

We have always checked his blood sugar prior to every meal and snack, so this is a difficult habit to break.

But what if he’s high and we don’t even know it? What if he needs a correction and instead we’re filling him with more carbs? These are my concerns. I think they see us as parents trying to control the uncontrollable – obsessed with each and every number. Well, maybe we are. It's just difficult to roll the dice and hope for the best when it's your child.

I like our CDE. I really do. She’s very nice. But what I really want right now is some tough love.

I don’t want a pat on the back and I don’t want to hear that 8.2 is fine for a boy Charlie’s age. Give me tough love. Tell me we can do better. Tell me it's a little higher than you'd like it to be. Tell me we'll work on a plan to get that A1c down.

Otherwise, it feels like we've been defeated.