What would you do with a diabetes free day?

Yesterday, I sort of gave myself a "diabetes free day" by eating a double load of noodle-free lasagna, with lots of cheese and lots of tomato sauce, along with zucchini ribbons for noodles and onions. It was delicious, and having served it to friends, I know that some think it's just regular lasagna. For me, I haven't adjusted the ingredients in the ideal ratio, and it's really high in tomato sauce, which is actually pretty sweet. And zucchini doesn't mean "little sweet one" in Italian for no reason. So I ate more of it than I needed to, and woke up this morning weighing more than I want and with blood sugars higher than I want. While I don't like having diabetes, I feel like it's offered me a gift in that if I want to increase the odds of being healthy, I am "condemned to a life of healthy eating." If I honor how my body is compromised, and am humble to what it needs rather than fighting it, then I do indeed limit what I eat, and yet, what I eat does taste delicious. Five almonds, for instance, can taste incredibly sweet--with that delicate sweetness I remember from Angel Food cake, only more complex. And the few times I've taken a taste of something as sweet as Angel food, well, now it tastes harsh and like a blunt instrument. Same thing with cheesecake, which I used to crave. Now, it feels better to eat just whipped cream with nutmeg as the spice and fresh grated vanilla bean, and it's plenty decadent. The other is like being wrapped in a smothering sweet blanket. If I had days and days without diabetes, I wonder if I'd be pounds and pounds heavier, and victim to all kinds of food cravings that, as long as I bow to them and say they always win, I just don't engage with, and thus, find pleasure in the other foods I eat. So for me, at this point in my life, an extra portion of extra-tomato zucchini lasagna counts as a diabetes free day. That's close enough to an edge on a narrow and beautiful path it's my destiny to walk, and sometimes, to run along and dance.

Very well stated Shelly. In the end dealing with our condition is really more mental than anything else. I too view it as a gift of sorts because I'm taking better care of myself and eating healthier at least by my own lights.

Its true that I'm a glass half full guy as it seems you are, but this little bit of mental engineering is sure helpful in dealing with this year after year.

Is that a Goose in your picture? I remember when I was quite small being absolutely terrified of my grandmothers Geese. They would open their wings wide and chase me around!