For your average diabetic, my sugars have been ok. However, for me, they remain high. The way I can tell is that my feet are fucking killing me. I've been generally hovering around 130-150.

Last night, I had low carb noodle lasagna and my sugars were 180, but after about an hour, they'd dropped to 135.

Eventually, things will even out -- however, this tween time is killing me and my feet.

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We went and visited Mike's grandparents. It was nice, quiet, and boring and like last time, the kids didn't sleep much, so neither did we. We took our time getting home, stopping at various food joints and a craft fair, taking time to enjoy the ride.

However, on the way home, we had a misadventure of sorts. Genny said she had to pee, and Mike told her to hold it. But she was using the urgent "now" whiny voice and I said,"She's had a rootbeer and an icee, she's gotta go now!" He argued with me until we heard this little voice in the back seat say,"Daddy! I peed!" At which point, I was thanking my lucky stars for the fact that I always bring an extra set of clothes for everyone -- just for such an emergency, so I pulled out a complete set of clothes to change her into. We have the fold out child seat in the car, so I took her soaked booster, tossed it in the back and put down a towel to cover the seat of the van's childseat because the cover is in the laundry room ( I keep forgetting to put in back in the van. )

I very nicely avoided the "I told you so" commentary that Mike so richly deserved because I made him take her to the bathroom to change her.

I. So. Mean.