Sourdough, Simplicity and Sisterhood.

I’ve been learning how to make sourdough and slowing down enough to enjoy the steps involved has given me lots of thinking time.

There’s a real simplicity to the process which would have frustrated the hell out of me a couple of years ago but I am enjoying it. If I rush, I get it wrong and the sourdough does not work out. I keep the starter in the fridge and on days when I’m not making a loaf, I try to remember to feed this precious starter in order to keep it alive and thriving.

I wake up at crazy times, hoping that the proofing process has worked its magic overnight and that the dough has risen nicely. It’s the best way to start the day. I put the oven on, heat up the cast iron pot in the oven and a bowl of water on the oven floor to create the atmosphere which results in the perfect crunchy crust. 

It’s a very low tech procedure which modern technology has not replaced. It seems to thrive on the love and care! Am I turning into some crazy old hippy?

All this puts me in mind of parenting! The other word for the starter is the ‘mother’. Those who are into making sourdough guard their ‘mother’ with care. Some have been on the go for generations, feeding entire families for decades  I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.

The mother must be nurtured and cared for or the bread will not work and what is produced will become inedible.

I am nurturing three teenage sons. This requires a lot of effort, consistency and care to produce the desired results: good men! I need to be on form for this to happen. If I am not taking care of myself then I cannot look after my boys. 

As part of what I do, I am the mum of an almost 17 year old son who has Type 1 Diabetes. Whilst his brothers are equally loved, there is an extra element of care needed here. It is what it is! He takes care of himself and I’m looking ahead and trying to envisage a time when he leaves home. In the meantime, I am catching a few early morning lows as I get up to put on the oven and the thinly sliced sourdough and egg combo that we’re having for brekie seems to be agreeing with his bgls. That’s what we call a win, win!

The Diabetes Australia #WDD2017 campaign #SuperSHEroStrong caught my eye today just as I was kneading my sourdough and so I would like to send my love, my thoughts and a whole heap of sassy sisterhood out to all the women in the diabetes community: those who have diabetes, and those who support others with diabetes too!

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Hello, I give you my son’s heart and his non functioning pancreas. Please treat both with care!


Hello, you don’t know me but I know that you know my boy. You two spend hours on snapchat and messenger chatting about who knows what. I know there have been face to face meetings too. I think it’s time we had a chat! 

Here is a little questionnaire I’d love you to complete. Don’t look alarmed! It’s all cool!

Part A) Stand on one foot and answer the following questions whilst hopping:

– 24 + 57 + 63 + 82, then divide by 2, then divide by 15. Got that? Good girl! 

– 29 + 81 + 12 + 75, then divide by 3, then divide by 15. Still going? Well done! You may proceed to Part B.

Part B) How deep a sleeper are you? How many hours sleep do you average and do you wake up to alarms? Please write your answer in the space provided below.

Part C) Do you prefer routine or have more of a devil may care attitude to life? Think back over the last week please and write down the times at which you ate breakfast, lunch and dinner?

Part D) Imagine you had a cute boyfriend. For easiness sake let’s call him ‘son of mumoftype1’! A bit of a mouthful, I know but bear with me please! Imagine this boy suddenly collapsed. Which number would you call? 

Part E) If this boy felt brave enough to tell you that he had a medical condition called Type 1 diabetes, how would you respond? Circle your preferred response.

– nod your head and ask a few simple questions.

– say “that’s what my best friend’s uncle had and he died.”

– run

Part F) If you have made it this far, you are a keeper and I ask only one thing of you. Please don’t break his heart! 

Times they are a changing as the song says! I am really enjoying seeing my boys turn into men but I have suddenly become aware of how important a role potential girlfriends may have. Excuse my tongue in cheek look at this! 

Celebrating being average!


I am average, my kids are average, most of my life is fairly average and I commit to celebrating this! We need to celebrate the average! Why is being average frowned upon and overlooked when that is what most of us are? This is my own personal protest cry for common humanity! 

I have three fantastic kids who are average and I am not ashamed of that. I hold my head up high and I love them with every ounce of my being. They go to school and do all their work, they play multiple sports, they have friends and people tell me they are lovely, polite boys. Why should I be made to feel that this is not enough? 

There is such pressure on our children to excel at everything or at the very least at something. Why are we not content to be what we are?  I see friends putting their primary school aged kids into tutoring to try and pull up their grades. These kids do their regular homework, then plough through the revision sheets issued by tutors. Their haunted little faces pain me as they are drilled to within an inch of their lives and have such high expectations put upon them to always do better. What skill set do they need to have for their future lives? Are they going to be astrophysicists or elite athletes? Why do we always seem to demand more and more of our children when they are already giving us their best effort but the results are ‘only’ average?

I certainly do not mean that kids should not excel. If your kid is in the gifted and talented category, good on them but for the love of God, please stop dropping that into the conversation! I get it you are proud and so you should be but I am equally as proud of my three children. I have tried to help each of my boys find something they can be passionate about. For them it is sport, in various shapes and sizes. 

I have decided to withdraw from this pressure! It feels so liberating but it is hard and I do need to keep myself in constant check. 

What caused me to rethink? 

Three years ago, my middle boy was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. His life and our lives changed and numbers took on a far more significant role. Every day, my son checks his blood glucose levels multiple times, we calculate the number of carbs he is going to eat and from that the insulin dose he injects is calculated. He is growing and is very sporty so these calculations are constantly changed and modified in order to try to keep his levels in the sweet 4 to 8 mmol (72mg-144mg) range. Every three months an average is taken and we find out the results of the all important HbA1c. I’m sure many people (and/or their parents) with Type 1 Diabetes would acknowledge a certain nervousness when they are about to get this magic number. 

The night before this result is given, I feel sick and cannnot help but think back over the previous three months. We try so hard to keep those blood glucose levels in range, but real life gets in the way. Sport, illness and being human all interfere and I lie in bed picturing a big  zig zag with high highs and low lows. My son tries his hardest and so do we as his support team. It doesn’t matter what that number is, there is nothing we could have done differently.

When school reports arrive in the middle of a life full of numbers, it really makes me think. Don’t the same things, sport, illness and being human, impact on these school results? Yes they do and so I commit to stressing less about grades and results and as long as we are all trying as hard as we can most of the time then that is absolutely good enough!

King of the Road

Our eldest two boys are only 17 months apart in age. It’s almost like having twins. 

We live in New South Wales, Australia. When you learn to drive here, you firstly do a computer based theory test to make sure you have the knowledge of the rules of the road. You can do this as soon as you turn 16, get your Learner licence then you have the minimum of a year in which to do 120 hours of driving practise. Once you have turned 17 and have done  your 120 hours, you can sit your practical test in a car with an examiner and then you gain your P plates which allow you to drive alone (with some other restrictions on speed, passengers and alcohol consumption thrown in to keep you safe). Got that?

Our eldest got his Ps last year and has now gained the nickname Über. After surviving 120 hours in the car with him, he owes his loving parents a few lifts here and there.

Onto number two child, with the added complication of Type 1 Diabetes thrown in. 

Number 1: 

Getting your L’s – a letter is required from an endocrinologist or paediatrician. A sight test is needed here and, from what I can understand, this letter basically lets the authorities know that the person has controlled diabetes. From what I’ve understood, this letter is required to be submitted every year. How and where I have yet to figure out.

Number 2:

Working out the rules around driving with Type 1 diabetes. You would assume that the Roads and Maritime Services who issue the Learner’s licence would be able to tell you that. Wrong! After googling myself into a zombie like state #OzDoc came to the rescue. Serendipity is a wonderful thing as the topic on the Tuesday night #OzDoc twitter chat was driving. I was given advice on how to help my son with hypos and driving, the documents we needed to read and so much more. How amazing is it to be in rural NSW where you don’t really know anyone else with Type 1 diabetes and be able to quickly get the advice you need to help your child.

Number 3: 

Navigating the numbers. The first couple of hours of practise went well. My boy is a natural and unlike the first few outings with his big brother, I did not swear once!  It’s been so lovely to spend one on one time with him driving around our beautiful area, whilst chatting. When it came to the third time going out, he checked his BGL and was 4.8. What to have? 

There was no advice quickly available online about how to get that level up to 5.0 without pushing it too high in the other direction. A fast acting hypo treatment seems to go against all we had ever done, given that this 4.8 was in the lovely normal range. I puzzled over this then asked on twitter what to do. Several lovely tweets with suggestions came back and from those, my son’s preference is to have a freddo frog. Good choice!

The next day was accompanied with an unexpected hypo just as we were about to go out. Things suddenly felt more complicated. Have a hypo treatment, wait till the level comes up to 5.0 then wait half an hour and check again. This took 45 minutes and the window of opportunity to drive had closed.

Number 4:

Finding a sympathetic driving instructor. Actually, this turned out not to be such a hard thing. We had used this instructor for our eldest child and knew he was a good man. I sent him a text to book in our second son and let him know he had Type 1 diabetes. I sent him the link to the NDSS document ‘Above 5 to Drive’. 

A short while later, I received this text: ‘Had a read of the link and thanks for the info . I will take care of him and tell him to always say if there’s a problem. And if he ever needs to cancel, even if I’m at the house, it’s all good with me and tell him never worry 😊’. Wow, wow and wow! Imagine a world where this was the normal reaction to Type 1 Diabetes.

Ok, 4 hours done, 116 to go!

Heroes can be gloriously everyday and wonderfully ordinary

Today I read the following blog from Insulin Nation. It really made me think, as this great site so often does. Have a click and see what you think. I love articles like this which make me question what I do. This article, from what I understand, discusses the idea of diabetes heroes and conquering warriors and how these images may have a negative impact on those who struggle with this condition.

From my perspective, it all comes down to how you define a hero.

The success of  beyond type 1 all across the globe, and in particular their Instagram campaign,  highlight the need for everyday heroes. It fills me with joy to read about all the people who have Type 1 and the things they do. These are people with whom I can often identify. I see my son in many of them and I love it! 

I am the parent of a 16 year old boy with diabetes. It is complex raising a child with Type 1 diabetes. Our aim has always been that diabetes would not stop my son doing anything. I honestly do not believe that his diabetes has stopped him doing any thing. That is what I believe is heroic.  I need my boy to see the length and breadth of his future and the endless possibilities which are open to him. It’s my job to sweat the nitty gritty of how this will be done and work with him and our team to figure out a way. He has days when he feels awful, when no matter what he does, however carefully he counts his carbs and measures his insulin doses, things just do not go his way. He does not dwell on these so neither do I. 

I don’t need to see elite athletes or super stars doing things, although it does give me a weird thrill when I find out that someone famous has Type 1 diabetes. James Norton, the extremely gorgeous actor from Granchester is one example.

Being heroic for me doesn’t not mean that my son conquers Type 1 Diabetes: it means that he lives a full and happy life despite having this condition. 

Being heroic means accepting the shit that goes along with this and doing what you need to do. No one is a loser if this doesn’t always go smoothly. Getting through two hypos and getting yourself out in the garden to smash your brothers at cricket is the example I am looking at through the window as I type.

Being heroic means feeling scared, knowing all the negatives that the media constantly presents and keeping going despite this knowledge. 

Being heroic doesn’t need to be big and amazing. It can be gloriously everyday and wonderfully ordinary. That’s what makes it beautiful! 

Veni, Vidi, Lusi, Vici 


Veni, Vidi, Lusi , Vici- I came, I saw, I played, I won!

 If my son had a Latin motto it would be this! Julius Caesar take a back seat! 

There is none so fierce as a 16 year old boy determined to play cricket like a pro.  A flight was taken to another time zone.  Night time lows and day time highs were navigated with unintrusive help. Carbs were counted pretty successfully. The results of each game (read ‘battle’) were dissected on the side of the field.  Whilst cricketing tactics were openly discussed, my boy waged a silent campaign.  

He fought off heat, then cold. He made intricate decisions based on activity levels. The war, however, was not won by type 1 diabetes. My boy owned his diabetes and he dominated it!   He took a big step towards independence. The team performed well in a tough pool but the actual results of the games don’t really matter as the real victor is safely tucked up in his bed, back home with us, smiling to himself and reliving  moments of glory on the field.

The Boy and the Egg Cross a Continent 


(I love this bust. I call it ‘Mother of Boys’. I saw it in a Château in the Loire Valley and immediately identified with her facial expression.)

Anyway, back to this blog!

Off he goes, cricket bat in one hand, Egg in the other! That’s my boy and, in my eyes, he is a champion before he has even left.

Being selected for the school’s First 11 cricket team was an honour, playing in the local school comp was fun and then came the cherry on the cake: the opportunity to join the team in a competition on the other side of Australia! 

First of all, what is it about bloody cricket and blood glucose levels? I sit on the side lines on a Saturday : a true martyr, looking just like the picture above. I’ve given up even trying to pick which child is mine, let alone try to understand the rules. Then comes the post match analysis of the game.  I smile, and adopt a Madonna-esque ( not pointy bra Madonna) facial expression and try to nod in the right places. Following this, we try to figure out the randomness of the BGLs (this time potty mouth Madonna can make an appearance) and we are stumped. (Hey, look, a cricket metaphor!).

Last week, wearing a CGM (funded by the local diabetes clinic) was a seemingly fantastic solution to working out what was going on. Great idea until there was an allergic reaction to the film keeping the CGM in place. Cue much frantic itching and the appearance of a nasty rash. A new CGM was put on after the weekend and was able to be kept on until the end of the week. The poor boy did have another allergic reaction but had kept quiet about it and soldiered on. The information gleaned from the wearing of the CGM has meant that the amount of insulin used around games can now be tailored much more precisely.

Challenge number one, was making sure the teacher leading the group had an awareness of Type 1 diabetes and was trained to use glucagon. This took some organising from our Diabetes Educator. She said her session with the teacher was fantastic and that the teacher was floored by what my son has to do every day. It is wonderful that he sees him as a ‘normal’ boy and he is, but there is so much work goes on, especially around sport, to make that happen. Now the teacher gets it, I can be confident in him being a good back up for my boy.

The next challenge was to find a family who would billet my boy. A lovely lady has put her hand up. Her sibling has Type 1 diabetes and her son is in the host school’s team . She has volunteered to do the 3am wake up so BGLs can be checked after a big day of cricket in the sun, presumably backed up with swims and back yard cricket. She is getting in all the hypo snacks needed and has sent texts checking we are all good to go. I am unbelievably grateful to this family. This had been my biggest worry as my boy sleeps through night time hypos. I am pretty tough and don’t cry often but I bawled my eyes out with sheer relief after I spoke to this lady.

After the school and accommodation were sorted, we needed to go through the action plan. We rocked up Friday afternoon to the local diabetes clinic. This date coincided with my son’s three year ‘diaversary’. On the way to the appointment, I really wanted my son to reflect on how amazing, fantastic and all round bloody wonderful he has been. As we drove, we chatted about all that had happened in those three years and I let him know in very clear terms how proud his dad and I are of him. 

My boy knows what he needs to do. He can carb count like a pro. He has a great knowledge of how to manage his diabetes. My hope is that, with all this knowledge and a good back up team, he can focus on having fun and playing some good cricket.

So here we are. Tomorrow is preparation day. Cricket gear needs to be pristine. Good clothes for going out folded. Full school winter uniform including blazer hung up ready to wear travelling. Then lastly we will go through the diabetes kit. A lesson on how to use the Frio packs, triple checking that there is enough gear to last a week and then we will wave him off in the wee small hours of Tuesday.