Resolutions, smesholutions

My dad was going to write a few New Year's resolutions for me here. But what's the point of resolutions anyway? Either we will lack the resolve to follow through, which is why they are resolutions and not something we are already doing anyway, or our presumption to know what the year brings will stand out as ridiculous anyway.

The failure rate of resolutions is cliche. Most people lack the will power for true and lasting change, unless the Spirit is moving in their lives. Further resolutions fall short due to short-sightedness. I could resolve, to stand up on my own next year. But it would only happen if God wills it to be so.

As my daddy read this morning, "Do not worry about tommorrow, for tommorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Matthew 6:34.

So I resolve not to resolve this New Years. I will spend New Year's Eve like I spend most of my evening, snoozing contently in bed.

Time keeps on slipping...

Here's a little post from my dad. He was feeling the passing of time this morning. I'm not sure I understand much about time. I just like rolling around on the floor.

[Dad: Time is slipping through my fingers like sand. Christmas is past. Another year approaches. Then another spring. Another summer. Fall will fall, giving way to winter's deep freeze. And on and on and on. Five, ten, twenty....to the final dance.

I still don't seem to get that "things" don't bring happiness. They inevitably disappoint or grow dull. Their glitter is fleeting.

Soon, very soon, my new knife sharpener will be just another kitchen item. Ho hum. Even my new knives and the sharp RAZR phone will be old hat. Dull, efficient, but boring.

And on and on and on. We run on the treadmill, pursuing newer and shinier things. We need our material fix, like some commercial junkie high on toys and gadgets. Always chasing what can only be found inside.]

"In repentance and rest is your salvation,
in quietness and trust is your strength."

Isaiah 30:15

Christmas morn

It's Christmas morning, and nothing says Christmas morning like blogging.

Excuse me if my post is a bit incoherent today, short sleep will do that to you. My older Brother Peter was up at 6 a.m. and of course, once he was up, noone else was going to sleep in. My ghost writer (daddy) is a bit exhausted, so he may not be up to his usual excellent standards in translating for me.

Peter got some cool gifts, even though he suffers from having a birthday close to Christmas which siphons off most of the real fun. "They were all good," Peter says when Daddy asked him which was his favorite. The most promising before opening would have been Zoo Tycoon for the DS, and Sim City 4 for the PC, the later given him by his uncle Jim. The only problem with both is they require a learning curve, and some degree of frustration to begin. More than daddy could tolerate on Christmas morning sleep, see above.

I got some neat things, too. A couple lighted toys, a few new outfits, and a weird fuzzy animal that makes noise. I got to roll around in a lot of wrapping paper, too, and do my best to smash some empty boxes.

Even Daddy did allright. And, unlike his housegroup pastor, Matt Burley (see his blog http://burlyfamily.blogspot.com), he managed to refrain from buying himself a lot of gifts beforehand. Ok, Ok, so he did have that mental lapse and bought the pans two months early. But that hardly counts. They became garage sale proceed gifts, not Christmas gifts anyway.

I'm a baby bear

I received this adorable Brown Bear fleece covering for my wheelchair from one of my therapists, made by another mother of a special needs child. Isn't it just so cute?

It's my birthday!!

Happy birthday Christina
Happy birthday to you girl
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
Happy Birthday to our little girl!!
(Sung to the tune of Happy Birthday Jesus)

We celebrated my fifth birthday today (My real birthday's actually Dec. 24, Christmas Eve. I was a little Christmas present all my own. My parents thought I was a baby bird, all the high-pitched little sqwaking that I did!)
I am such a big girl, now. I got a Mozart Magic Cube, a T-shirt, a stuffed kitty, a book, some slippers, a vest, and a hoodie sweater. I really like the music cube. Above is a picture of me with some of my loot.

Happy Birthday Peter

Peter's birthday today. I have to get used to calling him Peter now. He's prefered it for about a year, but dad's a little slow to catch on.

I liked P.J. It was cute, and it reminded me of his middle name, which is the one I got to pick. Josiah. After the good king in the bible. Even before I was married, I wanted to name one of my children Josiah. Keith Green also had a son named Josiah, another factor in my decision, as I was way into listening to his music at the time. When it came to naming our first son, Molly really liked the name Peter. Sounded good to me too, but I wanted to get Josiah in there somewhere. So Peter became Peter Josiah. It seemed to have a ring to it, and even the pajama allusion from the nickname seemed to be harmless.

This is a biased dad talking, but nothing was so cute as hearing little three-year-old P.J., ahem Peter, say his name. "I'm P.J."

But alas, everything changes. Kids grow up. They earn the right to call themselves what they want, within reason of course.

Anyway, he's 9 today. Halfway to that critical age of 18. Can we really be halfway there already? It will be a hard day for me when he packs up to go to college. But we're not there yet, thank God.

Happy birthday ... Peter!

My diet

My mommy and daddy have me on the Ketogenic Diet. I have been on the diet since January. We have modified the ratios a few times since then. I eat mostly puried food, as I don't chew well. Here is the majority of my diet. (This is a precisely regulated diet prescribed for me by my dietician. Under no circumstances try this at home without consulting your doctor.)

Breakfast
20 grams Peanut Butter simply Jif
21 grams Butter

Snack
16 grams pear
12 grams butter










Lunch
18 grams vegetable--puried green beans or carrots
19 grams chicken--breast meat, cooked in crock pot, puried in cuisinart
26 grams mayo--mixed with chicken
7 grams butter--mixed into veggie












Dinner
12 grams peach puried
20 grams chicken
26 grams mayo
7 grams butter mixed into fruit

Ice storm cometh

An ice storm is headed our way. Our you prepared? Do you have candles and/or flashlight accessible?

Everyone was freaking out at my office about it, and making alternate plans in case they can't get to work. But we'll get the paper out, we always do.

Here's the link to the National Weather Service Ice Warning.

PJ's birthday party

Here is a quick video of PJ's birthday party at Raceline Motorworks last weekend.

A few words about Raceline for anyone considering a birthday party there. It was something different. PJ's been to a number of parties at a handful of the usual gigs - Pump it up, Whirlyball (which they can't really play so the do laser tag), bowling alleys, miniature golf, Chuckie Cheese (when he was younger), Libertyville Sports Complex (which was a real waste of money), etc. So when we saw this place in the summer, we thought it would be a nice change of pace.

The nice thing is that all the guests leave with a remote control car, a cool party favor. And the kids seemed to enjoy themselves. The negative things included the price, which was considerable, which limited the number of kids we let him invite. Also, it was noisy and chaotic, and it took a good bit of time to line up each race and get it underway. Also, the party room left a lot to be desired, as it doubled for their office and break room. As with a lot of these parties, it seemed over pretty quickly, and then we were left wondering if we really got our $200 worth. But PJ and the kids seemed to enjoy it. So I'd give it a mixed recommendation.

My Dad's Poem

Here is a poem my Dad wrote for me when I was but a wee little thing. They had just been told by a geneticist that I might have mitochondrial disease, so my mom and dad didn't really know what to think, or how long I might live. Mercifully, the diagnosis did not bear out, and I have lived and grown to be a whopping five-year-old girl!

But the sentiments my daddy shared are special and sweet. They may strike a chord with anyone facing a similar situation.

For Christina

It falls like rain
On the hard winter ground
The hope that was there yesterday
But a memory, or a whisper,
Like a silent breeze, blowing past, and then no more

It is hard to look at her today
Without feeling sadness well up inside
How much longer? I can’t help think
Will we have a year, a month, a week?
For now, so warm, so real,
Lying peacefully in my arms.
But it will be so much different then
When she is gone.

Will I be able to remember the soft touch
Of her tiny shape snuggled in my arms?
The sweet smell of her body, all comfortable and warm
The sounds of her suckling,
As she nurses from the bottle.
Such music to my ears.
But will it soon be gone?
And what am I too remember then?
But a sad sad song.

We had such hopes
For this tiny bundle of joy
To do the normal things, to grow
And enjoy
It wasn’t all that long ago,
That these all seemed so close, so real
Now someone has hung a sheet over our universe
And all we see is through a veil

So many thoughts
My mind drifts here and there
What will never be, what she might never see
No, No, I can’t let it drift there
There’s a monster in those thoughts, waiting to devour me whole
It won’t be satisfied with me, it’ll want my soul
No much better, not to go to that place
Face the day, that’s all, quite enough to embrace


Still there’s a numbness in this place
Where hope crashes against pain
We know so little now,
Yet it’s hard to refrain
From thoughts that plunge off the bitter end
To embrace those never mores.
And to the darkest corner of my being send
To dwell in the darkness off the distant shores.

We have this time to hold her now, to watch her and enjoy
To savor every moment, and drench her in our love
A sweet gift this truly is, one I would not deny
Yet still touched with sorrow, for I know the hour is nigh
When no more will she rest quietly in my arms
She will be at peace
Resting in the Father’s charms

It’s a far far better place
He’ll whisk her off to be
Embraced by our loving saviour
Her pains and cares set out to sea
Her short short life will become a much more glorious thing
Her voice lifted up, and with the angels she’ll sing
And one day, we’ll be with her again
Standing on that glorious shore
I would not trade that for anything
So this pain I will endure

Christina, we love you
Each minute we have left
We’ll try to cherish each and every one
Be they a million, or just a few short score
And then when it’s your time to go,
We’ll miss you, and cry like never before
And go on loving you,
All the more.