When I was six, my only concern with eating was a spoonful big enough or small enough to my liking. And I suppose, it was the same for my parents. Spoon enough veggies or meat or a conservative piece of cake or pie . . . and just eat! Those were the days, huh? (wink and smile)
Now, dinners are full of measuring cups and counting carbs. I will admit, that I weigh very little. I measure EVERYTHING. If it can’t be measured in a cup, I usually estimate. I know, I know. I’m lazy. But I get the job the done, most of the time.
But here lately, Ryan has gotten in to measuring cups.
A few weeks ago, Ryan was hungry . . . really HUNGRY . . . when we sat down at the table. I was evidently moving slower than he liked. When I sat down, I realized I did not have a measuring cup on the table for whatever we were having. He jumped up and asked, “What size, Mom?” Then jumped up for the measuring cup/spoon drawer. About half way through that particular meal, he asked for seconds. I, of course, had to bolus again but I told him the portion had to be half (I’m sure it was some kind of casserole). So he jumped up looking for another measuring cup. That same meal, Jason decided to have ice cream. So, without any prompting, he already knows that a half cup of Blue Bell French Vanilla ice cream is 18g carbs. So he jumped up, searched for the third time that meal for a measuring cup, handed it to his daddy scooping ice cream, grabbed his pdm and bolused AGAIN for dessert. Ahhhh, the benefits of the pump.
***Note, we usually do not bolus three times for a meal, but who’s gonna tell that boy who’s a carb counting, food measuring fool that he cannot have ice cream for dessert . . . well, NOT THIS MOMMA.
What struck me about the whole measuring cup madness was Ryan’s attitude. Not once complaining, no negative body language, not even a twinge of frustration in it. He was almost proud to be taking care of himself as he dashed three times to grab the proper measuring cup. AND he learned that one fourth is the same as a quarter cup too. It’s his attitude that makes all the difference. He’s amazing!
The joys of type 1 diabetes, eh? Actually, the real joy is Ryan!