Stuff to Do

It's hard coming home for 4 weeks. It's probably one of those things that, if I were to come for 2 months, I'd need 3 or 4. There are so many people who I want to see, and who want to see me, but I just don't have a lot of time, and I don't want to spend a lot of time away from my mom and dad. Thankfully, most people have been understanding and accomodating. Two of my friends from high school will hopefully be able to come to visit - I'll call you tomorrow, Brenda and Teresa, I promise - and another of my friends is willing to come and pick me up for lunch. I've just about run out of steam on this vacation/holiday. I thought it would be a chance for me to relax and just sleep a lot, but I've been so busy that after two weeks of vacation, I need another vacation. Charlotte is getting so big. She's got all these new clothes (how I'm getting them into the suitcase I have NO idea) from her family, and they make her look like such a big girl. It is sl...

Surrounded by family, basking in the warmth of grace and blessings abundant. Thank you, Lord for every good and perfect gift, and I thank you for the not so good and not so perfect gifts, because I know that you are shaping me and moulding me into the woman you created me to be. Thank you for this life growing inside of me, for the child who is upstairs sleeping in her crib, for just being there, all the time. Even when I can't feel your presence, you are there, carrying out your will. All glory and praise and honor to you, my LORD. Amen P.S. Please pray for my sister, Cassie who is in the hospital in Indiana. She's got dangerously high blood sugar and unexplained chest pain. Thank you! P.P.S. My sister is home, and feeling better. Still no explanation on the chest pain, but the blood sugar was all about the sweets that people were bringing into work for the holidays. Thank you for your prayers.

Thanksgiving is perhaps one of my favourite holidays. It used to be because of the vast quantities of food I remember from my youth, but now it's more a family thing. I have fond memories of going to my grandparents' house and getting to sleep over with (and I might not remember this correctly) 25 other relatives who had driven down from Connecticut for the holiday. We always had a big jar of pickled eggs, which by the end of the weekend was just some beets in juice. There was always a table full of baked goodies, like jam drop cookies, peanut butter kiss cookies, pies, and loads of candies. I remember playing card games with my cousins, and getting all wild and stirred up before bed. The adults would always play pinochle until the wee hours of the morning, laughing and talking. I remember the breakfasts, the spaghetti dinner the day after Thanksgiving we always had, and of course going shopping at the mall the day after Thanksgiving. I remember there was always football on the...

My baby is officially 1 year old. Yesterday, in fact. This photo was taken just a few days after she was born: And now, one year on, this is what she looks like: She's such a little person, with definite opinions. We are so incredibly thankful for the miracle that is our Charlotte Elizabeth. She talks incessantly, although the only word we really understand is Dada. I'm pretty sure she says "Tickle, Tickle", probably because I do it to her all the time. She is cruising pretty confidently around the furniture now, but doesn't seem eager to walk on her own. She's content to crawl around and eat stuff from the floor (like I don't feed her enough!), and has an almost unhealthy obsession with the cat's water dish. She loves to feed herself, and will not, even if she's just finished eating, tolerate other people eating in front of her.

I have a dilemma, and I am having a hard time solving it, if it indeed can be solved. Maybe it's not for me to fix, and I just have to love this person, but goodness me, is it hard. Have you ever had a person in your life that is just so hard to love? That's not quite what I wanted to say - it's more that I don't know how to love this person. It's like this person intentionally repels all my attempts at reaching out, no matter what I do or say. I know that I'm supposed to trust that God is working in this person's life, and maybe that's supposed to be enough. I'm a fixer, that's who I've always been. I've always been a bridge builder, and I've always wanted to make everyone happy all the time. What do you do when there's a person who either doesn't want to be, or refuses to be, fixed? Just a question sent into the void... ======================= Just when you think you can't take another minute, you get a moment of grace s...

I grew up on the stuff, but apparently Charlotte is not a country girl. She's had explosive, foul, weapon-of-mass-destruction strength diarrhoea since we arrived. I should be thankful, at least she's not spewing any more. My nausea seems to be gone as well, thank you Lord. I also think she's getting more into a normal sleep pattern, because she's awake most of the day (minus a nap) and asleep most of the night. She wakes up at about 7:30 pm though, and won't go back to sleep until about 9:30. We'll get there. I know my last post was a bit sad and perhaps a bit prematurely morbid, and rest assured that I am still hopeful that my dad will get well and receive a liver transplant, and live out the rest of his life. I just needed to acknowledge the other possibility, out loud. Since I paid tribute to my dad in the last post, let me pay tribute to my mom too. My mom is also amazing. She came into my life for good when I was a young woman, and newly estranged from my o...

It's 11:40 PM EST, and I'm awake with some thoughts, which I thought I'd share with anyone out there. Most of you who read this are family or friends, and already know this, but I need to write it out loud. My dad has cancer. He's been having treatment for over a year now. I've talked about his tumour, his treatment, but I don't often say he has cancer. Because that would mean thinking about him dying. I know that all things work to the glory of God, and that if God chooses to heal my dad by bringing him home to Heaven, then how great would that be. I know that, and I get it. It's my heart that hurts. My dad is, well, he's always been a part of my life. I remember him taking us swimming down at the river, where we'd make "indian paint" by rubbing different rocks together and smearing it on our faces. We'd come home filthy, and my mom would make him hose us off in the front yard before we came inside. I remember him bailing me out of my ...

Finally. It's good to be at my parents' house again. It was good to walk out of the airport and see my breath in the air. I'm glad to be in a place where I can lie down horizontally and sleep. Charlotte is sleeping in her crib (cot), and I'm going to have a sleep in a bit as well. I'll post in a little while to give the gory details of the trip, but now I... must...sl;laeiajo;ep. *Edited to say that I never got around to that update, and in fact this, and the following few posts, are from my trip home in 2007 - a very special time for me, as it was my last Thanksgiving with my family. I lost my father to liver cancer, and my maternal grandparents not long after that.