On this eve of the Christmas I find myself reflecting quite a bit on the role of the holy mother Mary. I wonder how she was feeling on this night of her child's birth. Was she scared? Was she calm? Was she completely freaked out by the events about to unfold? I wonder this because she was a mother. Like me. Like most of you who read my blog. We never really hear her story. I am sure she had one. What would she have said if her story had been told?Would she have complained about the pain of child birth? Commiserated over a teething toddler? Worried as her teen left to change the world? Mothers of this modern age have claimed the right to tell our stories. What a blessed gift we have to share who we are, our strengths, our weaknesses. I wish for every mother during this holiday season that you rejoice as your role as a mom. While you quietly and frantically run around backstage making sure your children shine, know that your story is what makes theirs possible. ...
Special Needs Kids Are Kids
Christmas is a hectic time of year for shopping. Most of us dread the long lines, sold out sale items and kids having major meltdowns in the checkout aisles. But while I was out shopping the other day I saw something that so reminded me of when Carter was younger. There was a child that obviously had special needs, having a complete tantrum in the middle of the store, and the mom is trying to deal with it while people just walked by and glared at her. The look on their face was one I have seen many times: horrified shock that she was disciplining this poor child. She wasn't out of control or anything like that, she had just had it with this kid and was at her limit too. It took me back so many years ago when Carter was finally mobility independent. You know that period when you start teaching them to walk in the store, rather than put them in a cart? Most kids go through this around 2? Carter was probably closer to 4 and had an extra few years worth of excitement in him. He would roll down the aisles and sweep stuff off the shelves in pure joy. And I would get mad. Like any other parent would, like I did with Connor, and I would tell him "if you can't behave yourself I will take ...
So, It’s Been Awhile, huh?
Well, hello, blog. It's been awhile, huh? It's not you, it's me. I promise. Really. OK, well maybe it is you. With your blank post pages screaming: "Pay attention to me. I'm here. I am neglected. I NEED you." To be honest, neediness isn't really attractive. It's OK. Don't cry. I'm still here for you. We can still be friends. You just need to stop making me feel guilty for spending time with my 'other' friends. I'm busy. I'm becoming part of a new company, selling off parts of my online world that no longer make sense for me, traveling (yes, that spa trip to Devil's Thumb Ranch really was work). I'm taking the boys to Disneyland next week. I really do have a life offline as well. I understand you feel slighted. I promise to try to be better about paying attention to you, little blog. Can you forgive me? ...
My Dad
Many of you know last February my dad passed away. It was, without a doubt, one of the single hardest times in my life. But what you may not have know was that my dad wasn't my biological father. My biological father may have passed away last week, and been the man Gretchen found in the park, or he may be alive and well picking through the trash near Union Station. I don't know. I last had contact with my biological father at the age of 13. He called to talk to me and I handed the phone to my mom, telling him I knew who he was and didn't want to talk to him. He honored my 13 year request. No one has heard from him since. I don't know what happened in the call with him or my mom, and it's not my story to tell in any case. But this part is my story. I have lots of wonderful memories of my dad. I remember the time he hid by the couch and my 4 year old self screamed Daddy at finding him there. I rememmber girl scout meetings he led and long rides in his embarrassingly beat up blue truck to let the dogs run in the dry river bottoms. I remember someone who made me scrambled eggs with cheese, ironed my jeans, and taught me to make his mothers spaghetti sauce. I remember my dad. I ...
Going Gluten Free
Today's post is a little less rambling and a lot more informational then my normal style so just a heads up. This post is meant to be a small chronicle of lessons I have learned since going gluten free. As part of my path to being diagnosed with lupus I started eating gluten free. More because I was desperate to feel better and I just kept hearing about gluten-free miracles from my research. I have not been diagnosed with celiac or gluten intolerance formally through a blood test. In order for celiac tests to come back positive you have to have been eating gluten before the test. I had been gluten free for 2 weeks prior so it would not be positive even if I am. I can, for absolutely sure tell you that I am, at the very least, gluten intolerant after the last few months of 'testing' with my body. So, when I first decided to go gluten free, I did a ton of research on both gluten free blogs and forums. There is so much information out there. It is all confusing and conflicting and, at the same time, wonderful to see. Gluten free eating is pretty common place these days and many restaurants and food companies are educated about food allergies. What is gluten? Basically it ...