It Takes a Village....

During the first weeks when Brendon was diagnosed, I had all sorts of fears and worries running through my head.

Some of my worst fears had to do with his social life. He was 2 1/2 years old at the time, but I couldn't help but look years ahead at the time when he'd be old enough to be on his own at a friend's house and how that would be handled.

The years have come upon me already and he's been to friends' houses on his own without me hovering at the ready to test him and treat him if needed.

Thankfully, his friends' parents are more than willing to take on any task that is needed to ensure he's well taken care of.

And being that Brendon is so capable...able to test, count carbs, and dose himself...my worries about him being on his own are a distant memory.

I feel like we were meant to live in this neighborhood. We have a babysitter who is Type 1 at one end of the street, at the other end of the street, his best friend whose mother used to babysit her nephew who is Type 1, and a boy, Steven, on the other side of the neigborhood whose father owns an ice cream joint.

Brendon was invited to Steven's house yesterday and his mother asked if it was OK if she brought Brendon along to get some ice cream. We of course said yes and Jeff told her that typically, a half cup of ice cream is 15 carbs.

She dropped him off at home at the end of the day and informed me that they measured out the ice cream and the packaging said it was indeed 15 carbs for a serving. She's also a nurse and knows the importance of being as accurate as possible with carb counts.

First of all, how friggin cool is it to have a friend whose father owns an ice cream place, and second, how fortunate am I to have neighbors who are compassionate enough to take Brendon under their wings and make sure he's well taken care of.