Introducing Meatless Mondays

In our house, we have been trying to go meatless every Monday for a while now.  It's fun but it can be a challenge to find a variety of vegetarian meals that are pleasing to the 4 and 6 year old palate.


My husband and I dabbled in vegetarianism for a few years before we had children.  That was during a simpler time when two incomes and no picky kids to consider made it easy to have a huge grocery budget to prepare all kinds of cross-cultural, vegetarian culinary delights.  We would travel all over the world...in the comforts of our own kitchen, sampling the unique vegetarian dishes of each culture.  We especially enjoyed borrowing from the East Indian palate.  At the time I worked with several East Indian women and would pick their brains gathering the "how-to's" of East Indian cookery.  I wasn't above pulling out a notebook (usually reserved for taking down pertinent patient information during report at the start of my shift) to feverishly take notes while my co-workers gave me verbal instructions.  Measurements were purely approximations and some details were left out for me to discover on my own through trial and error.  I was forced to decipher instructions for methods that probably evolved over many generations and were likely passed down through word of mouth by women during actual meal preparation; not sitting around a staff room table explaining the process while sipping tea and munching on a bagged lunch.  It was truly an adventure.  I felt very lucky to have such a rich cultural, culinary resource available to me.  I would often bring left-overs to work the next day to have my "teachers" taste my interpretations of their time honoured dishes and offer advice on improvements.


Home made pakoras accompanied by a cilantro-garlic salsa were a staple for us.  And I became a fan of a dish known as Bindi - oven roasted okra in a garlic masala mixture of my own creation.  Nothing dresses up okra like garlic and masala spice.  

No dish could ever be replicated exactly because no measuring took place.  This is the true heart and soul of cooking, in my humble opinion.  I have strayed just a little from this adventurous style of cooking in an effort to please my young children.  But I feel it might be the right time to start gastronomically globe-trotting again.  My girls are no longer fussy toddlers and I think they just might enjoy the ride.  


I've recently stumbled upon this site:  Introducing Meatless Mondays.  It's a great site that helps motivate people to abstain from eating meat one day a week by offering vegetarian recipes, cooking videos and nutritional tips.


I'm looking forward to enriching our annual gardening endeavours with some interesting new cooking methods and flavours.  Furthermore, I am excited to teach my children more about social responsibility and stewardship of the Earth.  Reducing our meat consumption reduces our footprint on our over burdened planet.  Not to mention the moral and ethical issues regarding the abhorrent conditions in which many animals bred for food are forced to exist.

Above is a picture of a veggie kabob grill we did a couple of Mondays ago.  We served them over brown rice and garbanzo beans with a light sprinkling of soy sauce.  My girls were involved in the assembly of the kabobs and were very proud of their colourful creations.  I mean, look at these beautiful vegetal delights!  What kid could resist?


There's no denying that vegetables are healthy.  We all could stand to ramp up our consumption of veggies. Perhaps you'd like to climb on board this Meatless Monday band-wagon.  And if you know of any kid-friendly, healthy recipes, or any links to other great vegetarian sites don't be shy.  Share!

By the way, this is an excerpt from the welcome email I received from the "Meatless Mondays" site.  Notice how they are careful to make the "type-2" distinction - a small detail, but to those with type-1 diabetes, it means a lot given the amount of misinformation out there.:

Did you know: In Canada, it takes seven times more land to feed a non-vegetarian than a vegetarian. Also in Canada, rates of type-2 diabetes and levels of overweight and obesity have reached near epidemic proportions. About 1.8 million Canadians aged 12 and over, or 5.5% of the population, have been diagnosed with diabetes and 90% is type-2 diabetes; almost 60% of adults ages 18 and over, or 14.1 million Canadians, are overweight or obese.  
Going Meatless just once a week can reduce your risk of chronic preventable conditions like cancer, cardiovascular disease, diabetes and obesity. 
So pat yourself on the back. You are making a difference! 


...seven times more land?!  That is definitely food for thought, pardon the pun.

Why I Will Never Stop Hoping

Why have I become so involved in promoting awareness about type 1 diabetes?  The answer is pretty obvious.  I have a child with type 1 diabetes.  But that’s just the short answer.  

* * * * *

I haven’t always had a child with diabetes.  I was a lucky mom, giving birth to two healthy, beautiful babies with no issues whatsoever.  They both grew and developed normally, breast fed like little pros and to this day are incredibly bright little people bubbling with personality.  My husband and I have provided a clean living environment with fresh, healthy, often organic, home-cooked meals for them daily.  Generally speaking, they have had a pretty darn good start in life.  And for the first two years of Jenna’s life things cruised along smoothly...until sometime shortly after her second birthday when the symptoms began to manifest.

The first thing I noticed was the increased wetting.  Jenna was still wearing diapers but had begun the potty training process.  She was at the stage where she would awaken dry some mornings and if I caught her in time I could sit her on the potty and she would go.  But the increased wetting made the mornings of her waking with a dry diaper grow less frequent.  Then it escalated to the point where her toddler pull-up nighttime diaper couldn’t hold the amount of urine and I was often having to change wet crib sheets.  I became mildly concerned at this point but thought it was likely just a growth spurt.  Her bladder was just holding more urine and she wasn’t adapting quickly enough.  

The next symptom was the thirst.  This is no ordinary thirst.  At first I rationalized that she was getting over a virus and was naturally replacing fluids.  But this thirst was the kind that would cause her to awaken in the middle of the night and cry out in desperation, Mommy!  Water!  I would go into her room and hand her a sippy of water which she would promptly down.  I instinctively knew not to restrict her water intake.  I knew she needed it even though she hadn’t yet been diagnosed.  But being a nurse I also knew these tell-tale symptoms.  I suspected at this point that she had diabetes.  But I went through a short phase of denial.  I couldn’t believe a child of mine could develop type 1 diabetes.  It didn’t run in our family.  I didn’t want to be a paranoid mother.  

The clincher was when Jenna’s energy level became markedly reduced.  This was also the most heartbreaking symptom for me precipitating a moment of gut-wrenching realization.  I remember watching my girls play in the living room one day while I cleaned up the breakfast dishes.  Jaz was wanting Jenna to skip with her around the couch which sits in the middle of our open concept great room.  I watched Jenna’s face as she tried to will her little body to skip with her big sister.  I watched as Jenna quickly became defeated and exhausted.  She no longer had the strength to play and run with her sister.  I new I had to take her in to see a doctor to rule out diabetes.  I so badly wanted to RULE IT OUT.  I didn’t want her to have it.  But I knew she did.

* * * * *

I’ve become increasingly aware of the fact that this autoimmune disease is on the rise.  Lately I've noticed that by chance in my daily life I am encountering more people than ever before who have been personally affected by type 1 diabetes, whether they have it themselves or they are the parents or grandparents of a diabetic child.  It is estimated that by 2020 the incidence of type 1 diabetes in children under the age of 5 will double.  DOUBLE!   This is a staggering projection that makes my heart ache and my eyes well up.  Something must be done.  

So back to my original question: Why have I become so involved in promoting awareness?  It is because I must believe that Jenna's future is a bright one.  I must believe that just as I am working tirelessly, day and night to manage Jenna's blood sugars, there are smart, caring people out there working tirelessly for improved treatments or better yet a cure for my baby and every other child with type 1 diabetes.  I must believe that the only thing standing between my daughter and her cure is a lack of money.  And I will believe that until a cure is found or I breath my last breath.

I have no choice.  

Diabetes Control is Like an Acorn. (No...seriously!)

Okay.  Humour me for just a moment:  

It occurred to me one evening while watching "Ice Age" with my girls, that trying to achieve and maintain "control" of diabetes resembles the struggles of Scrat, that tenacious,  saber-toothed squirrel, as he tries to hang on to his beloved acorn.  If you are having any trouble making the connection, take a look at this. 

Less than a minute into this seven minute short the unmistakable, metaphorical parallels become apparent...just something that occurred to me one particularly frustrating evening where diabetes control, or lack thereof, is concerned.  

Something Just for Me

It’s a challenge to find time just for me these days.  I spend most of my waking hours taking care of other people.  Not that I am complaining.  I am exactly where I want to be in life--caring for my children and making a comfortable home for my family.  I am so thankful and so blessed.

But I have finally learned what a few wise people had been telling me for years since becoming a mom; I have to make time for myself.  Taking care of me is crucial.  If I don’t  and I become run-down and more susceptible to illness I will be unable to continue to take care of the people I love--the ones who count on me.  I have my blog to write about the daily challenges of managing my daughter’s diabetes and I have my occasional runs that I wish were more than just occasional.  But I’ve needed something else--something peaceful, meditative, spiritual--something...stretchy!  

So two evenings a week for the past six weeks I’ve been going to one hour yoga classes.  It’s been absolutely wonderful and has done so much for both my physical and mental wellbeing.  I’m noticing a difference in my tolerance level.  I can take life’s little stresses more in stride.  I don’t get freaked out about as much.  I can handle things with a calmer, more rational head. 

My girls initially had trouble with me leaving at their bedtime.  They didn’t like the idea of not having me there to tuck them in and read them their stories, but they quickly got used to it.  The next morning they often ask me what I learned in yoga and want me to show them some of the poses.  I suspect they sense, if only subconsciously, the increased inner peace I seem to have and perhaps find it easier to accept my absence for an hour, two evenings a week because of it.  They seem to know that it is something I am benefiting from and they respect that.

I’m blogging about this subject because I know as sure as I’m typing this that there are other moms out there that have fallen into the same rut.  Moms who spend the majority  of their time doing for others but neglect themselves.  You know who you are.  You’re probably sitting there reading this because you’ve stolen a few moments hoping the kids won’t find you.  But when they do (and they always do) you’ll cut short your pittance of time for yourself and go, because that’s just what we moms do.  By the end of the day you are spent.  There’s nothing left for you.  You sit staring at the TV until your eyelids won’t stay open any longer.  You then shuffle off to bed to catch a few hours of broken sleep (those 1am checks come early) hoping to log enough sleep to give you the energy to get up and do it all again tomorrow.  But too often you awaken unrefreshed and wishing you could have bagged a few more winks, hoping that maybe the next night will be different.

So, much like those wise people in my life did for me, I’m encouraging you to find something--something just for you.  It doesn’t have to be yoga.  It can be anything.  The point is to find something that you enjoy doing and make the time to do it.  And before you make the excuse that you don’t want to be selfish, I must present this argument: Setting aside time just for you to help recharge your batteries actually translates into taking care of your family. Because, as I mentioned before, if we don’t take care of ourselves, we can’t take care of our loved ones.

So escape for a spell.  Unwind.  Breath.  Stretch.  You deserve it.  You will be so glad you did.  And when you return to your loved ones refreshed, calmer and more centered they will be glad you did too. 

Namaste.

If you have already found your “something” I’d love to hear about it!  

Filling In for Kerri!

When Jenna was diagnosed at the tender age of two, one of the first heart-breaking fears that crossed my mind  was wondering if she would ever know the profound, life-altering joy of having a child.  Of course the health care professionals we worked with assured me at the time that with diligence and the help of the technology available there was a good chance Jenna could indeed have children, if she chose to do so.

Over the past eight months the diabetes online community has had the privilege of sharing the awesome experience of Kerri Sparling's journey as a person with type 1 diabetes through her first pregnancy.  It was inspiring and uplifting to read the many joys of her pregnancy--the initial announcement, her growing baby bump, the first kicks felt.  But the road she traveled was not without its trials and we all read with compassion in our hearts as Kerri endured emotional fragility and physical pain while juggling type 1 diabetes and the progression of her pregnancy.  Preeclampsia reared its frightening head and Kerri spent the last couple weeks of her pregnancy in a hospital room on modified bed rest.

But last Thursday her efforts paid off tenfold with the birth of her precious baby girl, or BSparl as she has come to be known by her online diabetes family.

Thank you Kerri for sharing your personal journey and giving us all hope that women with type 1 diabetes can have healthy pregnancies and babies.  You so totally ROCK, sister!

Thank you also for allowing me to fill in for you today while you enjoy the first few days of motherhood.  It's an honor to do so.  Love and blessings.

Read my post on SUM here!

It's Official. I'm a Twit.

I'm on Twitter now!  And since I'm not computer savvy enough to know how to put this button on my sidebar (see post title) I'll just keep posting it here every now and then--at least until I figure it out. 

Follow me!

Let's Talk Turkey

There is a sequence of events that is played out on average of 10 times a day—every day, in our house. The blood sugar check. The lancet clicks, piercing Jenna’s little finger tip. I squeeze her finger, summoning the glistening red bead of blood to form and await the test strip. I close in on the jewel of sticky-scarlet tissue with the meter and allow the strip to absorb the drop. The meter beeps its confirmation of receiving the sample. A moment later, another beep and the number appears precipitating an emotional reaction within me that ranges anywhere from calming satisfaction to considerable anxiety and frustration.

The only results that afford my mind respite from the worry are the ones within range, obviously—the five’s, six’s, seven’s, even the eight’s. Anything below four triggers my heart to beat faster and my protective instincts to kick in while I set out to locate carb tabs in earnest. Numbers in the mid teens or above elicit within me both physical and emotional responses of sympathetic nausea, guilt and sadness knowing my little girl is likely functioning at less than peak physical condition. To be more to the point, she’s feeling like crap.

But things really suck when she has repeated high readings in spite of correcting. Her temper shortens and her appetite for water increases dramatically. Consequent trips to the washroom become more frequent as her body attempts to rid itself of the excess glucose circulating in her blood. When this happens I’m left feeling desperately frustrated and wondering why. And often that question is difficult to answer with any amount of certainty. I can sometimes attribute it to what she ate or the onset of illness. But when the obvious culprits are ruled out and I have nothing more than my own creative devices to work out the “why”, my rationalizations can reveal my desperation to make sense of such a seemingly senseless disease. I’ve been known to ponder if the earth’s position in relation to the sun or perhaps a polar shift has caused an inexplicable high! Especially when I read that other people in the type 1 diabetes blogosphere are experiencing the same phenomenon at the same time.

But occasionally it's the wacky explanation that could very well be the cause.

Jenna had a pasta meal on Friday night—a meal that is notorious for causing a delayed climb in her blood sugar long after her meal bolus has played out. We employ a combo bolus to deal with these poky carbs but we must still get up at least once, usually twice in the night to ensure she is in the good range. More often than not and in spite of the combo bolus, Jenna requires a correction for a high reading in the night in order for her to wake up with a good number. This night, however, she stayed hovering around 9—slightly high but not too outrageous. Jenna’s waking number on Saturday morning was 8. Not too shabby, all things considered! And we were pleasantly surprised that our combo bolus worked so well.  Her blood sugar didn't stray too far from its target all morning.

Mid afternoon found us at a petting farm where Jenna sustained a bite to her right hand when she attempted to pet a turkey (it is a petting farm, after all). Her initial shock was quickly followed by a minute or so of solid crying. No blood was drawn but there certainly was evidence that this turkey inflicted quite a pinch on Jenna’s hand.

Over the course of the next five hours blood sugar readings rang in at 19 and 20 respectively, even though corrections were given for each high reading. I began preparing for the likelihood that a site change would be necessary. And as I was contemplating why this high occurred the thought crossed my mind that the turkey bite experience may have caused the spike. At first I called myself crazy for thinking it. But the longer I ruminated over it the more it made sense.

I mean, why not? It was a sudden, upsetting experience that likely caused a release of adrenalin thus triggering a subsequent discharge of glucose reserves from the liver—the classic fight-or-flight response. The high hung around for the remainder of the day and by bedtime we had to perform a site change just to rule out a bad site. We checked her blood for ketones and miraculously found none. I also dialled up a 20% increase in her basals for four hours. We were up twice in the night to check her and each time her reading was lower than the last. All of this seemed to do the trick. By morning she was 6.3—nice.

I don’t know if it was the unfortunate incident with that cranky turkey that caused this sudden, prolonged blood sugar spike. My gut tells me it’s well within the realm of possibilities. But one thing’s for certain: in spite of my tireless efforts to keep Jenna’s blood sugars on the straight and narrow, I am no pancreas. I can’t possibly know what is happening inside her body at any given moment or how each life experience is going to affect her. I must accept that I will never be able to fill her pancreas’ shoes perfectly, even though I so desperately want to. But my close attention to the subtle nuances of Jenna’s diabetes just might help me anticipate its next move from time to time and that’s what keeps me going.

And as for that turkey—well, there’s a saying I’m rather partial to in situations like this: what goes around comes around. See you next Thanksgiving, bird.