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9 Responses

  1. Bennet
    Bennet November 24, 2009 at 6:41 pm | | Reply

    The Best of the Holidays?

    One Word: COOKIES!

    I remember making cookies as a kid. All kinds of cookies.

    * Cutting out and decorating sugar cookies.
    * Those squish-them-out-of-a-giant-syringe things. What are they called? Spritz or something…
    * Sinckerdoodles.
    * Peanutbutter
    * My mom made Springerles. They took forever and used cool funky rolling pins but as a kid anise-flavor was not a winner.
    *The all time best – chocolate chip.

    I am picking our oldest Kelly up at NYU tomorrow. I get to drive to Manhattan and back on the day before Thanksgiving! She makes KILLER chocolate chip cookies. That is as good a trade as I know.

    So for me the holidays have always been and still are about warming butter to room temperature, firing up the mix master and making the house smell good. We are not giving that up for a mere malfunctioning pancreas or two.

    Some things are bolus worthy. Not some foods – some things. Events. Holidays. Cookies in all their splendor, hot from the oven are one such thing. Or maybe a dozen or two.

    No cookies would be the worst of the holidays. My thinking on holidays and diabetes is no doubt a function of why Connor was let out of the hospital early. Children’s of Philadelphia sprung him a day ahead of schedule so he could go trick or treating.

    He had very strict instructions to eat his candy. He was told to plan for it and make it happen to be a kid with diabetes.

    Don’t let diabetes rule out normal kidness. Plan for kidness and make the holidays happen.

    Sliding scale shots, skipping other less important carbs (like rice and potatoes) or dialing a few extra units into ye olde pump – what ever it takes. It is a holiday. So the kids’ pancreases took a dive – I am not letting that wreck the best of the holidays.

    I need help. I have one issue. A serious one!

    I somehow lost the old Betty Crocker Cookbook. You know the red an white one with loose leaf pages? It has a killer sinckerdoodles recipe. Mine had a big note in my writing that said, “Don’t do 4x the recipe, mixer can’t take it.” The lovely Mrs YDMV solved that and got me a Kitchen Aid mixer. (I wonder where Alton got the flame job on his. Is that cool or what?)

    But I digress. When I renovated the kitchen I lost the book. The good full fat version from before food pyramids.

    So someone help save my holidays!. Anyone with a 20 or 40 year old copy of Betty, can you scan the sinckerdoodle recipe and send it to me? Bennet(at)YDMV.net.

    Thanks,
    Love Ya Mean It

  2. Karen
    Karen November 24, 2009 at 7:04 pm | | Reply

    Love the Best Of / Worst Of idea for this year!! Hmmmm, I’ve got a Worst that was also a Best.

    A few years ago when I was still working, the Account Executives would always give us (the support staff) little Christmas gifts. Val’s “presentation” of my gift is a WORST. She came to my desk and said “I feel really bad giving you this for Christmas because I know you can’t eat it and I’m so sorry, but here.” And she handed me a small bag of Lindt chocolates. I couldn’t believe someone would actually feel like that about a gift and still give it!!! In fact, at that time, Lindt used to sell low-sugar chocolate bars that were delicious, so I couldn’t understand why she didn’t just pick up one of those. This story is also a Worst because I didn’t explain to her about counting the carbs and bolusing for chocolate. But it’s also a Best because I didn’t fly off the handle and give her a piece of my mind!! I was gracious and thanked her and told her I’d share them with my husband. That was the Spirit of the Season at it’s Best!!

  3. Bennet
    Bennet November 24, 2009 at 7:18 pm | | Reply

    The Best of the Holidays?

    One Word:

    COOKIES!

    I remember making holiday cookies as a kid. All kinds of cookies.

    * Cutting out and decorating sugar cookies.
    * Those squish them out of a giant syringe things. What are they called? Spritz or something.
    * Sinckerdoodles.
    * Peanutbutter.
    * My mom made Springerles. They took forever and used cool funky rolling pins but as a kid anise-flavor was not a winner.
    * The all time best – chocolate chip.

    I am picking our oldest Kelly up at NYU tomorrow. I get to drive to Manhattan and back on the day before Thanksgiving! She makes KILLER chocolate chip cookies. That is as good a trade as I know.

    For me the holidays have always been and still are about warming butter to room temperature, firing up the mix master and making the house smell good. We are not giving that up for a mere malfunctioning pancreas or two.

    Some things are bolus worthy. Not some foods – some things. Events. Holidays. Cookies in all their splendor hot from the oven are one such thing. Or maybe a dozen or two.

    No cookies would be the worst of the holidays. My thinking on holidays and diabetes is no doubt a function of why Connor was let out of the hospital early. Children’s of Philadelphia sprung him a day ahead of schedule so he could go trick or treating.

    He had very strict instructions to eat his candy. He was told to plan for it and make it happen. Be a kid with diabetes. Don’t let diabetes rule out normal kidness. Plan for kidness and make it happen.

    Sliding scale shots, skipping other less important carbs like rice and potatoes or dialing a few extra units into the pump – what ever it takes. It is a holiday. The kids’ pancreases took a dive. I am not letting that wreck the best of the holidays.

    I need help. I have one issue. A serious one!

    I somehow lost the old Betty Crocker Cookbook. You know the red an white one with loose leaf pages? It has a killer sinckerdoodles recipe. Mine had a big note in my writing that said, “Don’t 4x the recipe, mixer can’t do it.” The lovely Mrs. YDMV solved that by getting me a Kitchen Aid. (I wonder where Alton Brown got that cool flame job on his mixer?)

    But I digress. When I renovated the kitchen I lost the book. The good full fat version from before food pyramids.

    So someone help save my holidays!. Anyone with a 20 or 40 year old copy of Betty, can you scan the sinckerdoodle recipe and send it to me? Bennet(at)YDMV.net.

    Thanks,
    Love Ya Mean It

  4. Crystal
    Crystal November 24, 2009 at 7:27 pm | | Reply

    So I’ve been thinking a lot about this. Which means one thing: selective memory. Hmmm. Best or Worst?

    Going Way back here for a Best:
    Every Holiday season family and friends would have Loads of desserts to choose from. Too many. How is a kid supposed to decide? Let your dad do it, that’s how. Oh and let him fight some of those Holiday battles for you too. My mom would always say no to “more” but would at least let me have a “small slice”, whatever that means, I still don’t know. Dad on the other hand, well, he would sneak Another “small slice” on my plate when no one was looking. I perfected “taking my time eating” quite early. Fond memories for sure.

    Worst:
    Selective memory. I seriously think I blocked most of them out. I don’t think any have been particularly bad. Some comments I am sure were made. I just usually ignored them. Never flew off the handle (hindsight, why oh why did I deprive myself?!).
    There certainly were attempts at “accommodating” my eating needs. Whatever. They were bad to say the least. Sugar free is Never the way to go. It’s the Holiday season, I say splurge (within your means, test and bolus of course) and enjoy all natural!

    Happy Holidays all! ;-)

  5. Meri
    Meri November 25, 2009 at 10:27 am | | Reply

    Our worst happened many Christmases ago when I had only two sons…one of which is diabetic. He was two at the time and on some archaic combination of insulin, a combo that made his diet and his meal times alarmingly stringent. Despite my better judgment, we went to visit my Husband’s Brother for Christmas. Honestly, I almost levitated off the couch when my Brother in Law presented my little diabetic with a Bubble Gum Machine and a box assortment of Jelly Belly Candies. That night I ended up feeding my 3 year old a dinner of tortilla chips and cocktail weenies, because the main meal wouldn’t be ready until 8:00pm. By 8:30pm, I was decidedly grumpy and ready to call it a night. We packed up the boys in our brand new minivan and set out for the long trip home. I think we were no more than 5 minutes on the road when our little diabetic proceeded to throw up all over the seats and floor….not once… but six times. Ketones followed, and we ended up in the hospital for the next 48 hours. It was a hospital stay riddled with problems, not the least of which was convincing a nurse that 10 units of insulin would surly kill my son.

    So what does one do with a gum ball machine that serves as a reminder of ignorance and a hospital stay whose memory was begging to be forgotten? Well let me tell ya…One breaks it.

    I broke it. On purpose. I took the vacuum and banged it hard against the dresser multiple times until it fell, and (luckily) broke on the floor. (I’m not a complete Scrooge; I saved the gumballs and jelly bellies in a baggie for later.) I blamed my non-diabetic 4 year old when my husband asked about it. Sometimes an older brother just needs to take one for the team. And sometimes, a Mom just needs to follow her heart.

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  7. June S
    June S December 11, 2009 at 7:39 pm | | Reply

    I will never forget New Year’s Eve (12/31/77,) which I spent in Communist Romania. I was a senior in college, and our college concert choir was touring Romania with an organization called “Friendship Ambassadors.” In those days, I was taking a combination of NPH and Regular insulins (not the human variety, but a type made from pork.) We had no blood glucose meters. I did bring my Clinitest tablets with me to test my urine for sugar.

    Well, New Year’s Eve in Romania is a lengthy affair. I’d say there were at least 10 courses to the meal served that evening, and they BEGAN serving around 8:00 p.m. There was dancing in between courses. I tried my best to take a little bit of Regular insulin before each of the courses that I cared to eat.

    I do remember going to bed, and checking my urine sugar level beforehand. I recall that it was elevated. On New Year’s Day, I did not awaken with my alarm clock. My roommate had been warned by me that if I ever were “out of it,” she was to get juice or regular soda into me – not insulin. Fortunately, there was another Type I diabetic in the choir. My roommate sought her help (and the choir director’s.) I don’t know how many sugar packets they put in my cheeks, but I know they followed this with Romanian fake orange juice (something like Tang.) I came to just as the translator was telling the choir director that the Romanian doctor believed I had forgotten to take my insulin, and that I’d need to get an injection of insulin at the hospital. I heard those words, sat up and screamed “No! I am fine. I DO NOT need insulin!”

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