Hate to Love cook-outs

So as you all know, or should-of known, yesterday was Father's Day. I love holidays. ( and my Dad, he's awesome) Of all kinds. This being because no matter how big or small the holiday, my family has some sort of get-together. It has been this way since I was born, and I hope to continue the mass amounts of get-together's when I have my own family. Everyone is so close, and get along great with laughter and yelling ( I'm Italian, we're not really mad at each other). 

In any case, with a cook-out there is obviously food...everywhere. Appetizers, booze, the main course with all sorts of extras, and of course, dessert. HEAVEN to my mouth. HELL to my blood sugar. 

" Hey Ma, how many carbs do you think is in this wonderous dish?" ..."Eh.. how about this sugary, delicious, wonderful lookin' pie?" " Hey Auntie, did you make this?" 

Those are just a sample of my 21 Question game I play as I'm circling around the table picking and choosing which things will probably put me in a comatose state for a few hours if I don't miraculously carb count to the last delicious bite, or if I decide not to bother because I don't feel like it and just stick to meat and veggies. 

WOOHOO.

I absolutely love food. A little too much on most days when I can't just say no. 

I hate carb counting. 

Even more so when I don't know what the heck ingredients went into certain things.

Anyhow, yesterday. I ate and ate and ate. But my blood sugar was constantly low. I purposely gave myself more insulin than I knew I should have. This was/ is probably a dumb idea. But I absolutely didn't want to have a high blood sugar while my family was there. My high's make me quiet, sleepy, moody, and wicked grouchy. That's the last thing I want to display around my family. Though, I know they understand my up's and down's. Still. What a downer. 

That's just what I worry about on days when I don't have my normal food regimen with food packages with the exact carbohydrate count or when I'm making a meal myself and can count ingredients out and do all my crazy diabetic mathematics. 

PS. I'm terrible at normal people math. 

Re-cap of this ramble : I love food. Hate carb counting. Hate being the only one at dinner subconsciously thinking about carbs. Or the result of poor carb-counting, post-dinner. And though, over delivering units of insulin may be wrong, I was way happier with sipping a juice box between courses of our holiday feast, than laying comatose on the couch watching everyone have a great time. 

Today is Monday. 11:30am, Dexcom shall be here HOPFULLY by the end of the day. Wish me luck :)