I'd give my left arm to eat a hot meal

Ok, so do you want to know what I hate about being the parent of a diabetic child? I never, ever, ever get to eat a hot meal. I know this usually goes on with any Mom really...especially with children who are young...but when Emma turned 4, she was starting to become pretty good about meal times and I was starting to be able to actually sit down and eat my food at about the same time as the rest of the family. Well, that only lasted a few months really, because then she was diagnosed with diabetes. So, it's been roughly 2 years and 7 months since I have had a hot meal. Hell, I would settle for a "warm" meal at this point. Meal times consist of preparing and cooking everything, getting Emma to wash her hands, getting Emma to clean up her mess of toys and papers all over the table so there is room to eat, checking her blood sugar, going to write it down in the logbook and realizing that either (A) Emma has stolen my pen...or (B) my pen has fallen in that impossible to reach area between the stove and the counter and now I have to find the broomstick to reach it and drag it to myself so I can grab it without getting my arm stuck in the small space or inadvertantly pushing it right under the stove to join the graveyard of dust bunnies and lost cat toys...or (C) my pen is out of ink and now I need to search for a new one...realize i can't find one...and settle for using a crayon, scented marker, or pencil crayon, then plating her food and giving it to her, counting the carbs in her meal, writing down said carbs, checking my chart for the insulin dosage based on carbs, giving her the needle, putting the needle supplies away, plating my own food, getting Emma a drink, getting Emma a new fork because she's dropped hers on the floor and now it has cat hair on it, getting Emma more ketchup, chicken, noodles, or whatever, herding the cat to the other end of the room so she will stop begging for Emma's food (my cat thinks it's a dog), sitting down at the table, and finally eating my own food which is now about as cold as it was before I began cooking it.
I can honestly say that I will never run the risk of burning my mouth on food that is still too hot. I could eliminate one of these steps and get Emma to check her own blood sugar and write it down...but getting her to stop playing long enough to do that is about as easy as putting a collar and leash on the cat and taking it for a walk. So, I continue to do it...and I continue to eat cold food. I'm assuming one day this will stop? Possibly one day when Emma is grown and out of the house, I will actually get to eat a hot meal? Hmmm...one can always dream.