You guard your lunch like someone who just won a luxury food competition on Survivor (how do I explain bolusing to two children under 5).

Your daughter’s doll stroller handle is smeared with blood (must have had a gusher finger stick and never realized it).

You hide in the bathroom to drink the juice box required to bring up your blood sugar (I used to be able to tell them it was mommy’s medicine…now they know better).

You have your 4-year-old hold on to your insulin pump tubing in order to keep track of him while walking to the car with your arms full of bags and a toddler (if a hand isn’t available…at least the pump always is, and he knows not to pull cause that would really hurt…ouch).

You have to pack three snacks every time you leave the house…one for each child and one for yourself.

Your children are familiar with the word “insulin.”

You use the excuse that your sugar is low to get out of giving the kids a bath.

Your 4-year-old calls the toy pager in his medical kit an insulin pump (he even makes sure to wear it in his pant’s pocket…just like mama).

You want to test your children’s blood sugar every time they drink more than usual, wet the bed, or don’t make it to the bathroom.

You pray every night that your children will never know what it really means to be a diabetic….