The Boy and the Egg Part 3

 My boy is the boy with the egg. 

I’ve written about him before.



Can I just remind you that despite the burden of carrying an egg and caring for it at all times:

HE IS A TEENAGE BOY  (note the shouty capitals!)

Having this egg does not preclude him from normal teenage behaviour.

This may be hard for you.

I know it is hard for me.

He can be angelic but:

He will break the rules, despite the egg!

He may be rude, despite the egg!

So, please do not treat him differently, because of the egg!


Just because..

We eat healthy, wholesome food most of the time because I want us all to be in the best shape we can be.

I love to bake and since my son got Type 1 diabetes, it’s been my goal to keep baking but try to make the recipes  healthier where possible. There are however times where you just have to break out and eat some delicious sweet treat. I want all my kids to know that these treats exist but it’s best to have them in moderation. So much has changed for our whole family since my son’s diagnosis. I don’t want food to become an area of stress.

This is one recipe that hasn’t been altered much. This is a Sunday classic. We had it this weekend after a big roast dinner and all was good in the House of Tersosterone.

The carb counting was done by me and I’m still on my L plates so please double check!

I can guarantee however that this is yummy: a real old fashioned, easy to make, nana-style dessert.

I had my first negative experience this week as a blogger and new user of twitter. Someone called ‘diabully’ retweeted my tweet about making brownies after a horrid day. The name alone should have set alarm bells but I had one eye on something else and clicked to see who this was. I was taken to a link, where after reading a couple of lines about the terrible mother that I am, I quickly closed it down and blocked this person.

By a strange and fortuitous coincidence, I had been reading  where another mum,who I admire greatly, had a negative experience on Facebook. In some of the comments on this post, some beautiful and supportive advice was given. One person said never to read on when you know a comment about you is negative (I’m paraphrasing here). I’m so pleased that I had this idea in my head as, beyond knowing it was nasty, I choose not to know the details of the blog post.

I choose to feed carbs to my child with Type 1 diabetes. Clearly, there are lots of people with Type 1 diabetes who choose to eliminate or reduce carbs from their diet. That’s their choice and I have no judgement whatsoever to make on them for doing that. Perhaps, when he is older, my son will make the choice to do this too and I would be behind him 100% in whatever he chose to do. I’m leaving this to him though.

It’s a shame that there are people who pass judgement on others for the choices they make. Having a child with Type 1 diabetes or indeed having Type 1 diabetes yourself is hard enough. I started blogging and using twitter as a means of finding and perhaps giving some support.  

The Big Snorty Snore

  It was dark as I walked towards his bedroom door. I stood in the doorway and heard the biggest, snortiest snore ever. Just one, then the gentle sound of regular breathing. I smiled, walked to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

That big, snorty snore tells me all is well with my boy. He had a really weird day yesterday with yo-yo levels so I worried about last night. My husband had done a 3am test. 

Only in a house with a Type 1 child would the middle of the night conversation be like this:
“D’you do the BGL?”






“Love ya!”

“You too”

Who said romance was dead?

That big, snorty, teenage snore told me all was well, my boy was fine. Another day begins! I hope for a better day than yesterday!

Bring it on!


I am tough! I’m the mother of a child with Type 1 diabetes. Nothing else that can come my way will bring me down!

I am strong! I walk to my child’s room every day and wait to see the rise and fall of his chest! Fixing issues at work comes easy. There are solutions to all these problems!

I am in control! I drive home from work whilst simultaneously singing loudly to seventies disco music and calculating the carb value of the meal I’m about to prepare!

I am adaptable! Anticipating the impact every little thing my child does on his blood glucose levels and getting it wrong frequently, teaches me this skill!

Don’t mess with me! You stuff up your role in caring for my child when I have tried to help you, I will take you down!

Worlds collide! Hey Miss, can I tell you something…?


Another busy day in the world of teaching teenagers. The end of a lesson and a boy waits behind. I know this boy.

He asks me if he can tell me something. As a teacher, you never know what’s going to come out when I student asks that. He then goes on to tell me that today it is exactly two years since he was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes.

I look at him for a moment. I fight back the biggest lump in my throat as I look into his eyes.

“I might be the only other person in this school who knows what that means”, I think to myself. Such a simple thing to tell me, uncomplicated words which tell a whole story.

“Do you want me to say Happy Diaversary?”, I ask.

“Not really!”, he replies.

We stand and just look at each other for a minute without saying anything. I put my hand on his arm and ask “Are you OK?”

“Yeh, I think so!” He walks off to his next lesson, wrestling his mates on the way.

It didn’t feel like the right time to tell him how amazing he is. I’ve done that before and really made him blush. Nor did it feel like the time to talk about what a pain it can be. We had that conversation a couple of weeks ago.

Today, he just needed someone to know and understand without talking about it. I’m so glad that I could be there for that boy when we didn’t need many words.

Dear teacher

Parent teacher interviews last night. Great to hear that these teacher’s know my boy. I know that our beloved educator is going to do a talk to the staff soon. Last week we had a near miss and the lack of awareness could have come at a huge cost to my son’s health. 

It has all been a reminder to us of how vulnerable we are when we send our children off. We hope that the teachers remember who our children are and what they need to do for them: it’s usually nothing but when things go wrong we need them to have a minimum amount of knowledge. I thought I’d been proactive but that was not the case.

I know this job. I’m a teacher too. This makes it even harder as I know what a tough gig teaching can be. I feel conflicted but making sure my boy is safe is my priority.

I wrote this poem at the start of this year when my son returned to school after the holidays. All my nieces and nephews in the Northern Hemisphere head back to school soon as we edge closer to our Australian summer. This is what I’d really like to say to the teachers.