Haven't Got The Time

Blogging Friends.... I haven't got the time to write anything such as a story about Rose or even any "Therapy Sessions" today. Why? Because. I have devoted most of today working very, very, very hard on my February story for "Minuscule is good!"!! By the way? Look for this upcoming fictional children's story to be posted on my other Blog {Lord willing!!} on Monday!!

This is my wall calendar's quotation for January!! I think I might like Maya Angelou!!

 "I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." --Maya Angelou

Well, I am off to spend some quality time with Rose before bed!! So good night, dear Friends.... 

Whose Bear Is It, Anyway?

Blogging Friends.... I appreciated all of your sweet birthday comments and wishes!! I feel so very loved!! Your comments were witty, heartfelt and encouraging all rolled into one cosmic "computer hug"!! Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!! I enjoyed myself a happy, low-key birthday!! {Well? You cannot do much when you're still overcoming a right knee injury!! Skydiving and bungee jumping were out of the question!! Not that I wanted to leap from any high locations....} My sister-in-law--who has already passed her "big 3-0" birthday--told me that she did not feel any different after reaching this "milestone". Me? Four days into thirty, I feel--almost in a spiritual sense--reborn somehow. Huh. And I thought that, after my life was mysteriously impacted by Tony Stark/Iron Man I already was reborn....

I am long overdue for Rose-related stories. So here is one. Enjoy!! {Sorry this is being posted one day late. My attention deficit disorder completely took over while writing, then that crazy head of mine evolved legs and ran away on several occasions!! Excuses, excuses, excuses....}

 

"Amethyst", my nearly two-year old niece, had told Rose, in a bossy, sassy toddler voice to stay away from her sandy-colored, velvet-soft, fluffy plush teddy bear. Rose's ebony nostrils were merely sniffing the stuffed animal. Only "Amethyst" comically phrased it this way. "No, Wose!! Dat mine!! Dis yours," as she picked up Rose's lime green Lamb Chop toy to show my canine the difference in ownership. Hmmm. That sentence sounded all too familiar. "Amethyst" was copying what she had heard me tell her countless times whenever Rose's saliva-stained stuffed animals looked enticing. I would then tell "Amethyst" something to this effect. "No, that's Rose's toy!! Go find Monkey!! That is "Amethyst's" toy. Huh. You truly need to watch what you say around nearly two-year old children!! It can come right back like some boomerang!! "Amethyst's" stuffed animal was from Build-A-Bear. Inside its cotton fluff body, is this heart-shaped sound-maker. Unbeknownst to us!! Apparently, it created a faint rhythm. "Amethyst" had brought the bear over with her last Thursday to our house. You know what? I was attempting my very best to keep "Amethyst's" teddy bear away from Rose's reach. I sat it on our red great room couch. Or my Mom's cedar chest. Locations where "Amethyst" could still play with it. Which, she did!! "Amethyst" happily removed her teddy bear from these such locations. Every. Freakin'. Time!! Then, what with chasing after my energetic niece practically one-legged due to this still-healing wrenched right knee, I unintentionally forgot about the teddy bear and gave up trying. Not a good idea!! Because one minute I was entertaining "Amethyst". And the next? I turn around to witness Rose contentedly chewing on "Amethyst's" sandy-colored, velvet-soft, fluffy plush teddy bear's arm as though she owned it!! "Rose, no!!" I patiently scolded my mutt. I picked up the most likely expensive Build-A-Bear. Not only was its arm drenched in doggy saliva. The head felt wet, as well. Heaven only knows how long Rose had been chewing on it!! Thankfully, she is not destructive with toys!! I glanced at a clock. It would be time to drive "Amethyst" home soon. I then asked my Mom if we had time to throw the now saliva-smelling teddy bear in our washing machine. No. But we threw "Amethyst's" teddy bear into the washing machine, anyway, and kept it for a few days. She will not miss her stuffed animal? Right? It was when my youngest brother pulled it out of the dryer--as an excitable Rose jumped up for "her" teddy bear--that we noticed the concealed heart-shaped sound-maker. Oh no. What if the teddy bear had a personalized "I love you" message, and, after going through our washing machine, we broke it? Or worse. What if it contains "Amethyst's" heartbeat? However. I rationalized with this. "Amethyst" would have pressed its chest. Toddlers love noise-making toys!! I think it was already broken!! I even thought this. If it did have "Amethyst's" heartbeat, then they shouldn't even let her play with it. Yet, I still felt immensely guilty. After all. None of this would have even occurred had Rose left "Amethyst's" teddy bear alone!! And when Rose gets in trouble, I tend to put myself "in the doghouse". No clue why!! I also made excuses for Rose. It was down on her level.... As far as she knew, I just bought her a new toy!! On the bright side? "Amethyst's" teddy bear was even softer and smelled laundry-fresh!! Twain days later. Our brother, sister-in-law and nieces came over to celebrate my "big 3-0". I am working on accepting this age!! So we returned "Amethyst's" teddy bear. All was easily forgiven by my sister-in-law, which, I knew would be. Whew!! Then, later on, I picked up "Amethyst's" teddy bear. Its heart had sunk to the tummy. And everyone knows that this organ does not belong there!! So. I was "playing surgeon" and attempting to push "Amethyst's" teddy bear's heart back into its chest. But before I could. I felt it!! The heart!! It was literally vibrating in my hand!! Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. I could even hear a faint sound!! Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick!! I was so very excited!! It felt as though I had just witnessed a miracle or something!! By the way? I never did push "Amethyst's" teddy bear's heart back into its chest. But what a resilient stuffed animal!! First it survived Rose's chewing. Then our washing machine. And it still works?!    

Reluctantly Thirty

Blogging Friends.... This post has been written and rewritten several times throughout the month with one approach to another!! Originally, it was in a paperback journal!!

"I think you end up doing the stuff you were supposed to do at the time you were supposed to do it." --Robert Downey Jr. 

Birthdays. They are gifts from God, as is every breath we inhale and each rhythmic beat of our heart. Whether they're so-called "milestone" birthdays, like eighteen, twenty-one, or fifty. You know. Those noteworthy celebrations which can be taken advantage of with heartfelt Hallmark cards? But, you know what? I firmly believe that every birthday is a "milestone" celebration. And I have felt this way for several years. There's no such thing as "age is only a number". Not when you're me and happen to share your birthday with a Beautifully Unique "angel" named Conner Phillip who passed away from this rare genetic illness called Tay-Sachs disease at age 22 months. I followed his story Online. Conner would have turned eight this year, by the way. Not when I, myself, was born with congenital diaphragmatic hernia, a rare, life-threatening birth defect. Which 50% effected don't survive. Not when life itself is precious and short.

I am turning thirty years old today.

Reluctantly.

I graced this planet as a birth defected, failure to thrive, messed-up baby born with craniosynostosis, C.D.H., and Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome three decades ago. Around 8:30 AM. Why does that little detail matter? Because. It is the precise time in history when I was born that I officially turn thirty. Or so I have been told!! Anyway. So why, when I truly believe that every birthday--from one to ninety-nine--is a "milestone" celebration, am I reluctantly turning thirty? Neither Conner Phillip nor so many precious Kindred Spirit C.D.H. children will ever reach the "big three-o". I am blessed beyond measure!! So why have I obsessed over this birthday throughout my 29th year? The positives and negatives. The pros and cons. One moment I have felt optimistic, hopeful excitement about entering this new chapter of life. The next I've dreaded it entirely. As a Drama Queen, I've stressed over exiting my 20's so very often that those who have already passed this "milestone" age consider me completely nuts. Am I? Because I cannot help but wonder. 1994. Didn't I turn ten just yesterday? I cannot help but wonder. Whatever occurred to my young, carefree childhood? I cannot help but wonder. Has anybody else who turned thirty obsessed over this so-called "milestone" birthday? I cannot help but wonder.

Because I am turning thirty years old today.

Reluctantly.

Which leads me back to the question. Why am I reluctantly turning thirty? I have never, in my entire life, dreaded a birthday. Never. So why am I now? One answer? Unnecessary comparison. I look around and observe. I see everything. Like when this person turned thirty, she was a mother. I haven't got any children. Or when this person turned thirty, he was following his dreams. Mine are broken, shattered, unobtainable. I look around and observe. I see everything. How many individuals are out there who have turned thirty sans any children or dreams realized? Them, I cannot see. Why am I reluctantly turning thirty? Another answer? Feeling like some cosmic failure in life. Despite the very acknowledgement that I should not even be experiencing such negative, untrue thoughts. But feelings are feelings. And these particular thoughts continuously resurface within my crazy head from time to time. Because. Life has not turned out quite the way I envisioned it would. Yet. At the same time, I like my life. I like my life. I have twain adorable nieces. I own Rose. I write fictional children's stories on my Blog for all the world to read. Literally!! Yet I cannot help but wonder. What did I personally achieve during my twenties? Why am I reluctantly turning thirty? Another answer? Regret. Because. I wasted most of my twenties to self pity and minor mood swings. For I possess unwanted learning disabilities. I have limitations. I am different. In my crazy head, I couldn't do anything. Not. True!! See, I lost most of my twenties. And I will never get them back. Because starting from age seventeen to twenty-eight, I gave up on life. I quit. I stopped living life to its fullest capacity. Which I deeply regret. I did not spend most of those wasted twenties exploring myself as a writer. I wasn't creating monthly fictional children's stories. I did not spend most of those wasted twenties growing. Oh how I wish I had. But then again. If I had not wasted most of my twenties to self pity and minor mood swings? I wouldn't be as mentally/emotionally resilient. If I had not wasted most of my twenties to self pity and minor mood swings? My life never would have been mysteriously impacted by Tony Stark/Iron Man while watching "The Avengers" in a local movie theater on May 4th, 2012. If I had not wasted most of my twenties to self pity and minor mood swings? The words "It's a... terrible privilege" wouldn't sometimes make me cry touched tears. If I had not wasted most of my twenties to self pity and minor mood swings? Then I wouldn't believe that true emotional resilience only comes if you mentally fall first. This I have learned.

"I think you end up doing the stuff you were supposed to do at the time you were supposed to do it." --Robert Downey Jr. 

I am turning thirty years old today.

Reluctantly.

Because turning thirty. It is a cosmic, noteworthy age. In far more ways than one. Think about it. Our thirties are a bridge. And it's cosmic. Everything about this bridge is cosmic. Because. Unlike some quaint wooden weathered garden bridge which you take hikes on, our thirties expand larger than any which can be explored worldwide. How so? This bridge--our thirties--divides being a youthful twenty-something to middle age. Correct? This bridge serves as a divider from entering your thirties to your forties. And. As every bridge requires time to be structurally built, this one is no different. I have an entire decade or so still until being considered middle-aged. Which is ten plus years of constructing that bridge!! An entire decade of immensely enjoying life!! Now. As for my thirties? I intend to rock them!! One bridge part at a time.

I am turning thirty years old today.

Still reluctantly.

Well, it is now past 8:30. So. It is official. I am thirty years old. We shall enjoy ourselves some fluffy from-the-box vanilla un-birthday cake today. I like the sound of that!!  

  

Butterfly Angel

Blogging Friends.... Thank-you, from the depths of my heart, for your continued sweet get better wishes, positive vibes and prayers on behalf of this strained right knee of mine. I have felt very, very, very loved!! I continue to be slowly but surely "in recovery" and am noticing daily progress!! Plus several "one step forward, two steps back" moments. I can now bend and flex the injured knee while pulling myself up from chairs sans excoriating pain!! Score!! Plus last night, I watched television for nearly one hour with my knee bent and positioned like a "normal" person!! Score again!! However. Pain has returned to stay, and just when I think I no longer need my Mom's trusty cane, I'm dependent on it again!! It is a slow journey!! I have also been bending and flexing my right knee while sitting down as sort of a made-up, at-home physical therapy. I. Am. Resilient!!

What does one do when she wants to write but could not sit at this desktop computer for very long sans leg discomfort? If she is me? And lives with a crazy, never-shuts-down head? One writes "Blog posts" in her paper journal!! To which this was previously written!! Brilliant, huh? I did this during our stomach flu "epidemic" at Christmastime when I was evading germs and staying far, far away from the "boy's bathroom" where sickies vomited and/or pooped. While recovering from my strained right knee? I have written twain "Blog posts" in that paper journal!! Thus far!! And I am currently working on another!!

"She's A Butterfly"

Recorded by Martina McBride

She remembers when she first got her wings
And how she opened up that day
she learned to sing
Then the colors came, erased the
black and white
And her whole world changed
when she realized

She's a butterfly, pretty as the crimson sky
Nothing's ever gonna bring her down
And everywhere she goes
Everybody knows she's so glad to be alive
She's a butterfly

Like the purest light in a darkened world
So much hope inside such a lovely girl
You should see her fly, it's almost magical
It makes you wanna cry, she's so beautiful

She's a butterfly, pretty as the crimson sky
Nothing's ever gonna bring her down
And everywhere she goes
Everybody knows she's so glad to be alive
She's a butterfly

God bless the butterfly,
give her the strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground
God bless the butterfly,
give her strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground

She's a butterfly, pretty as the crimson sky
Nothing's ever gonna bring her down
And everywhere she goes
Everybody knows she's so glad to be alive
She's a butterfly

God bless the butterfly,
give her the strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground
God bless the butterfly,
give her the strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground

I have a problem. An addiction to sparkly-winged angel figurines. I think I need professional help. I have--thus far!!--collected seven Faithful Guardians Collection angel figurines within a brief span of time. Yes, seven!! I should have never looked at them as we wandered through a mall Hallmark store. I most certainly was not supposed to. Why? Because it was Black Friday, the official start of Christmas shopping!! And I'd voluntarily made a promise to everybody that I would not purchase any sparkly-winged angel figurines. Because it was Christmastime, after all!! And you do not purchase items for yourself during the holidays!! This is common sense, which everyone knows about!! But I just had to look at those Faithful Guardians Collection angel figurines. And why not? Looking at the sparkly-winged angel figurines wasn't purchasing any!! It seemed harmless enough. But then I saw her!! "My" angel!! She has sandy-colored hair and is wearing a light yellow gown with detailed pink petals on her skirt. The Faithful Guardians Collection angel figurine's petite hands are stretched Heavenward. In her palms she is releasing this beautiful detailed blue butterfly. Here's the thing. When I first saw this sparkly-winged angel figurine on display at a specified Hallmark store several years ago, I loved her!! And I knew I wanted her!! However. I did not purchase her. At the time, I hadn't bought even one Faithful Guardians Collection angel figurine. Plus. I already owned a not-nearly-as-attractive Willow Tree angel figurine with an identical stance. Did I really need two? Well. "You snooze, you lose", as that phrase goes. Because the sparkly-winged angel figurine disappeared from Hallmark store shelves everywhere. I had missed my chance. I guess I was not suppose to get her. Actually. My swift-growing Heavenly host began with one ginger-haired Irish Faithful Guardians Collection angel figurine. Oh yeah. Plus a little mood swing. And she made me so happy!! Thus begun my problem. An addiction to sparkly-winged angel figurines!! Because, come on. Irish Angel looked lonesome!! She needed a "friend"!! And nobody was going to prove me otherwise, thank-you very much!! The next thing I realized, within a brief span of time, I'd collected five Faithful Guardians Collection angel figurines!! Yes, five!! Then there was Butterfly Angel. Truth be told? I had recently been actively searching for her. To no avail. Then, as if reappearing like some magicians trick, there she was!! Question. What does one do during times such as this? Break a promise? You betcha!! Because after all. Purchasing Butterfly Angel would not even qualify as an impulse buy, since I had been searching for her!! That being mentioned. Sans a single rational thought within my crazy head, I purchased Butterfly Angel!! And, you know what? I'm so very glad that I purchased her!! On a deeply profound and metaphorical level. How so? See, before Friday, May 4th, 2012. Prior to hearing the line "It's a... terrible privilege.". Before my life was mysteriously impacted by Tony Stark/Iron Man. Prior to all of that, I was like some caterpillar trapped within her own self-created cocoon. For a little over one decade. For way too long. Because I possess unwanted learning disabilities. I have limitations. I am different, in more ways than one. Then, after my "birth day" on May 4th, 2012, I gradually developed beautiful butterfly wings and came alive!! Slowly but surely I have broken free--for the most part, save uncontrollable minor mood swings--and emerged from my self-inflicted cocoon!! I am writing. I'm creating. I am enjoying life once more!! So, the blue butterfly that "my" sparkly-winged angel figurine is holding? It's me!!  

Cheddar Cheese Treats

Blogging Friends.... Thank-you, from the depths of my heart, for your sweet get better wishes, positive vibes and prayers on behalf of this strained right knee of mine. I have felt every single one!! I am slowly but surely "in recovery" and noticing day-to-day progress!! In fact. As of yesterday, I was limping around sans my Mom's cane!! However. I did fall again this morning around 3:30AM as I attempted to stand back up from our half bath toilet. This fall was graceful, at least, and practically controlled. See. I lost my balance, fell forward, realized that there was absolutely nothing I could do to avoid it, and softly landed on my good knee. The injured leg? It was mostly straight and dragging behind. I looked like some Olympic runner before her race!! All alone, I must have been a sight to behold!! My pants were still dropped, and suddenly our tiny half bath felt much, much, much smaller somehow!! "What am I gonna do?" I wondered aloud. "I gotta get up!!" I did not want to push against either the toilet or sink, as they both look un-sturdy for my weight. Well, I possess a great deal of iron will!! I slid open the half bath door. I forced that injured knee to bend. And pulled myself up by the doorframes!! My right knee hurt like hell, though. An agonizing pain which I walked off!! Plus. I swallowed some over-the-counter pain killers!! There were no reinjures, though!! Thanks be to God!! Setbacks, on the other hand....? Uh. I am back to using that trusty cane and feeling pain once more. Sigh....

Today is January 16th!! Do you know what that means? It is Shadow Sunshine's Gotcha Day!! Fourteen years ago, I was blessed with my first mutt, this beautiful "blond"-furred German Shepherd/Golden Retriever cross, on a stormy, windy Sunday morning!! We were, as per usual, attending church service, when, suddenly, sans warning, the power was knocked out!! Our windowless sanctuary then turned pitch black!! This forced everyone to evacuate toward the gymnasium. There, my Dad saw a friend who needed to give up his canine. And the rest is.... Well, history!!

So, what does one do three days after straining her right knee? She bakes her canine a batch of dog biscuits!! Sitting down the entire time, of course!! Allow me to explain. See, I "hired" the help of my sweet youngest brother--Uncle Michael to Rose--for assistance!! He was my "gofer", bless his servant's heart!! Uncle Michael found every ingredient, plus utensil which we needed for this recipe!! He held up the cookbook so that I could read it. {Voluntarily!!} He rolled the dough {Voluntarily!!} and pressed cookie cutters through the dough. As it turns out. Uncle Michael is quite the little baker!! I had no idea!! {We watched a movie and played Wii afterward!! That was my "thank-you"!!} I baked Rose a batch of dog biscuits for twain valid reasons. One. Shadow's birthday. Two. Ever since this injury, I have felt like a neglectful Mama. I've not loved on poor Rose like I normally do. Which hurts worse than the strained knee itself. Baking dog biscuits was a simple way to show Rose just how much I love her!! I chose this recipe for twain reasons. One. We have every ingredient in our kitchen!! Two. Rose could sample nearly everything along the way!! Plus, she cleaned up my doughy mess on our kitchen floor!! Thanks, Rose!! Well, showing my food lovin' little girl love through home-baked biscuits was a success!! Because....

Rose would rate this recipe: Four 'paws' way, way up!! {I would, as well, by the way!! They are freakin' yummy!! I am helping Rose eat these!! Gladly!!}

Cheddar Biscuits

Dogs love cheese! Any type of cheese will do for this recipe, so if you don't have cheddar on hand, try mozzarella, Swiss, or any other cheese you have in the refrigerator.

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 cup whole wheat flour

1 cup shredded cheddar cheese {Rose was, of course, given a sprinkling of that ingredient!! She loves cheese!!}

2 tablespoons butter {Rose was given a liberal taste of that ingredient!! She also likes butter!!}

3/4 cup milk {I poured some into a bowl for Rose to lap up!! She enjoys milk, as well!!}

Grated Parmesan cheese for topping {I forgot this ingredient!! I could not believe it!! Rose would have loved her sampling of Parmesan cheese, too!!}

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Put flours and cheese into food processor. Pulse to mix Add butter and milk. Mix well. {We haven't got a good food processor, remember? So I just mashed everything together!! I chopped up the butter while it was in with the flours, cheese and milk!!} Turn out into floured surface and roll out to 1/4-to 1/2 inch thickness. {I do not drive myself crazy over such measurements!! I simply roll the dough evenly!! But I must note. That the dough was so very crumbly, I had to continuously add water!!} Poke with tines of fork {I forgot to do that step!! Oh well!!} and sprinkle with Parmesan cheese. Cut into shapes with cookie cutters. {I have two bones. One paw print. Plus two dog shapes!!} Place on baking sheet covered with greased or non-stick foil. {I sprayed it!!} Bake for 15 to 20 minutes or until golden brown. {I cooked them for 20 minutes!!} Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator.

We baked 17 treats!!

Happy Gotcha Day, Shadow Sunshine....    

  

I. Am. Resilient!!

I planned to attend church services Sunday morning. I had not actually seen our familiar congregation in twain weeks. Because. We visited my brother and sister-in-law's church last Sunday. I planned to attend a family wedding Sunday afternoon. Although I hadn't a clue yet what I'd wear!! Typical who-cares-about-clothes me!! What I did not plan? Slipping and falling in murky mud outside as I emptied our kitchen garbage at 6:30 AM that very Sunday morning. Well. I suppose that nobody plans to slip and fall!! It felt so very much like a repeat occurrence from over three years ago. I slipped, fell, the right leg {Again? Poor, poor leg!!} buckled under my body, and I felt a pop somewhere. It was an excruciatingly painful déjà vu. A re-injury of my right knee/calf/ankle/foot. Or so I initially thought!! For every single "symptom" seemed the same as before, save blue discoloration on my right foot. Pure Drama Queen panic soared through me as I immediately stood back up--alone--in our backyard. "Oh no, not again!!" I said in pitch black darkness. I may or may or may not have also uttered "crap", but there are far worse things to say considering the circumstances!! "Walking it off" is impossible. Because, with each step I took, the pain intensified. This I remember all too well. And truth be told? Since it felt like a re-injury from over three years ago, I dreaded what was to come. Such as this. A long, long, long recovery process. Or this. My right leg has not been the same strength-wise since before three years ago. Yep. With the occasional sharp heel pain--which can be "walked off"--I have not completely recovered from my injury three years ago. Great. My biggest issue right now? I cannot completely flex my knee sans excruciating pain. And let me tell you something right now. I tolerate pain. Also, while lying straight, my leg stiffens up making it feel as though the bottom half belongs to somebody else. This can be "walked off". And with every light unsteady step, I literally feel my leg loosen up. Although I do remember no longer being able to bend the knee over three years ago {It regained its flexing ability!! Eventually!!} I do not remember my leg stiffening up. This is such a strange, creepy sensation!! At 3AM yesterday morning, I used the restroom and noticed my right knee was swollen. I've injured myself so very often, I could write a Bestseller about how to treat them!! I recognize swelling when I see it!! And, yes, I know all about the R.I.C.E. method. {Rest. Ice. Compression. Elevation.} So, off to the doctor's office we drove. She told us that it was a knee strain. To continue the R.I.C.E. method. And, should it worsen, call her. So. For twain days, I have been limping around like some old lady with my Mom's cane. {She uses it when her back goes out!! Mom is far from being considered an "old lady"!!} Plus eating some chocolate. I have been watching lots of television. Plus eating some chocolate. I have been writing a little in my journal. Plus eating some chocolate. I have been hobbling around the house mainly to urinate. Plus eating some chocolate. I have watched a Nightly News story about this Boston Bombings survivor whose legs were blown off, and being knocked by Perspective. Plus eating some chocolate. I have once again mastered the art of standing up one-legged. {Sitting down is much easier, albeit quite "unladylike", as I plop.} Plus eating some chocolate. I have been going around chanting this. I. Am. Resilient!! Did I mention I've been eating some chocolate?! So, dear Blogging Friends. As sitting at this very flat-screened desktop computer feels uncomfortable--I stood up countless times just to "stretch my leg"--I'm afraid I will be absent from both Beautifully Unique and your Blogs until this knee strain heals up a bit. Please do not forget about me. I will miss your Blogs!! But I shall return. Because. 

I. Am. Resilient!! 

The Tale Of Twain Bestsellers

Jackson Update. He just underwent craniosynostosis reconstructive surgery. In his Mommy, Serene's words.

The difference between the first 12 hours post-surgery and the next 12 hours were as dramatically different as night and day. Now that we were managing his pain and he was eating regularly, he seemed content to just be held. Besides having all the nurses oogle over his super-cuteness, which included his chubby cheeks and rolly thighs they would also comment on how amazingly good he looked for just having had surgery. Perhaps they say that to everyone, but it still made me feel good. When the neuro-surgeon stopped by, he remarked on how great Jackson's sutures looked and was impressed with how little swelling he had. Then he completely shocked us by saying he was fine with us leaving that day since all his blood work came back great! But that plastics (the plastic surgeon) had the final say on that. I couldn't help but feel a bit... I don't know, nervous? Surprised? Elated? Terrified? All of the above mixed together in a cocktail of emotions. Shaken, not stirred. Someone from the plastics team stopped by later and again seemed highly impressed with how good he looked and was eating. And again even later, Dr. Siddiqi came by to check on us personally, commented on how little swelling he had and that everything looked great! Then he too said we could check out of the hospital anytime we felt ready. In truth, I wasn't sure at all that I felt ready! We were in the hospital for five days after Alayna's procedure. And here with Jackson, it had been less than 24 hours since his surgery and everyone was saying we could leave! I just couldn't get over the difference. I know we experienced our own little miracles in both of our children's craniosynostosis cases. Nothing had gone wrong during either surgery, not even the slightest complication. And with both post-surgery experiences, the surgeons were so impressed with how well each child had done, how little swelling they had, and how quickly they recovered. So thank you all again for your prayers in our behalf. I have no doubt the prayers were answered. So, we finally checked out of the hospital about 5:00pm Saturday night. That's only 29 hours after his surgery. Jackson and I stayed in Salt Lake because he had another appointment on Wednesday to get his head scanned for the helmet he will be wearing for the next 6-9 months. There had to be those few days in between so the swelling and fluid could go down enough to get accurate measurements. We will drive back to pick up his helmet, and have a check-up with the surgeon on January 21st.

Blogging Friends.... Warning. This is yet another self-serving "therapy session". {Don't worry. I am not suffering from any minor mood swing-infused pity parties!! Yet. Oddly enough, I nearly always suffer from mood swings after writing these "therapy sessions". This could be interesting!!} So, come. Sit. Have a cup of tea, coffee, soda, wine, or just plain water. Read on as God gradually works through my life....

"Minuscule is good!

Trust me, it’s much better than thinking everything you do is important and meaningful. That is not good.” --Robert Downey Jr.

Twain books. Among the gifts that I received for Christmas were two inspirational memoirs. One of which I actually placed on my Amazon Wish List in an effort--much like a dare!!--to prove something. Halfheartedly. Prove something.... To whom? Me. That I, a writer {Unpublished.} can not only ask for a book, but perhaps immerse myself in reading again. Well. As much as anybody with attention deficit disorder, premature short-term memory loss, and poor reading comprehension skills possibly can. Allow me to explain. I have not read any books ever since my dream of being a published author was broken and shattered. That's right. None. Why? Because of petty envy. See, I want what these published authors have. And I cannot help but wonder. How did they get published? So I stopped immersing myself in books somewhere along the way. Although. Due to having A.D.D., premature short-term memory loss, and a lack of reading comprehension skills, I never consistently immersed myself in books. Besides. Truth be told? I would much rather write than read!! Example. When my family vacationed at our cabin in the woods last August, everyone else read to leisurely pass their time. Me? I wrote a fictional children's story about imaginary monkeys in my journal!! Yes, I had packed books--the newest historical American Girl, Caroline--but they were barely even touched!! And I still have not read them. Now. Back to those twain books that I received for Christmas. The one which I requested? "Heaven is Here: an incredible story of hope, triumph, and everyday joy" by Stephanie Nielson. The other inspirational memoir that I received? It is titled "Kisses from Katie: A Story of Relentless Love and Redemption" by Katie Davis. Both books each have two things in common. The authors are Bloggers, much like myself. And. As I looked at both of these books' covers, my eyes caught four words typed in all uppercase letters on top.

New York Times Bestseller.

Coincidence? I think not. It seems to me that God is telling me something. Let your broken, shattered, unobtainable dream go, yet keep writing. I just created a fictional children's story about this little girl who was born with congenital diaphragmatic hernia. My birth defect. It is titled "The Star". My heart, soul, and never-shuts-down Brain Juices created that story!! To which I posted on "Minuscule is good!"!! It has gained five comments thus far--three of them C.D.H. Moms!!--plus {Right now!! It rises and falls faster than gasoline prices!!} sixty-six view counts!! And, you know what? I cannot wait to write next month's fictional children's story!! Because. I have discovered that I'm addicted to Writing Projects. They give me a high like nothing else in this world {Not even chocolate!!} and provide immense inner happiness!! Once I'm finished with a certain Writing Project, I come off of my high only wanting another. Immediately!! So it's a positive that my crazy never-shuts-down head seemingly works overtime!! Such is the life of an artist!! Perhaps I have not published any New York Times Bestsellers. But what can I say? "Minuscule is good! Trust me, it's much better than thinking everything you do is important and meaningful. That is not good.". Now. Will you excuse me. I believe I've got some Bestsellers to read!!

New Year's Eve, "Bombs", And RDJ

Jackson Update. He just underwent craniosynostosis reconstructive surgery. Serene graciously told me in a comment that I could repost anything from her Blog. So!! In Serene's own words. Warning. You will need your tissues!!

 

I held up okay, until that horrible moment when I handed little Jackson over to the anesthesiologist. I could only turn into Hubby's chest and cry. We were told it would take about two and a half hours from the time they put him under to the time they woke him up. Not bad considering we had to wait over five hours with Alayna's procedure. About two hours later, Dr. Siddiqi (pediatric plastic surgeon) and Dr. Riva-Cambren (neuro-surgeon) walked into the waiting room and told us that Jackson's surgery went perfectly and no blood transfusion was needed. I started crying all over again. Hubby asked why I was crying? Things had gone so well! But that was exactly it. I just felt so much relief and gratitude. About half an hour later, the call came that "one parent of Jackson" could go see him in recovery. In truth, if I had known what I would find, I may have sent Hubby. I suppose I expected to see something like what Alayna looked like. Still pretty sedated, doped up on pain killer, laying there all wrapped up in clean, white bandages. Instead, I could hear him screaming from down the hall. I found him crying and crying, being held by a nurse who was trying to console him with a bottle of water, the bed and blankets he was wrapped in was smeared with the orangey-red iodine they had used on his head. It looked so much like blood. They handed him off to me, hoping I could calm him down and possibly make him eat. But all he did was scream and scream, and all I could do was sit there and cry while feeling to utterly helpless. I hated it. So much. They gave him a couple doses of pain meds but it didn't seem to make a dent. After what felt like an eternity, they told me they were going to move him up to his room. I set him back in the bed and we walked out to the hallway where we met up with Hubby and a dear childhood friend of mine, Seth, who had stopped by. Even though it was obvious, all I seemed capable of doing was to stand there and repeat over and over that Jackson wouldn't stop crying. I couldn't do anything to help him, he just wouldn't stop. He screamed all the way to the room where I once again held him, trying to calm him as they gave him some oxycodone. When they fed him the oxycodone, he seemed to realize he was hungry and I was able to feed him while the drug took effect and he finally, blessedly, calmed down. He continued to whimper or burst out into sudden fits of pain or discomfort. It was always bad when they had to draw blood or check vitals. Hubby and I took turns holding him for hours at a time, not wanting to put him down. At some point in the early morning hours, he was calm and comfortable enough to lay in his bed so all three of us could get a couple hours of sleep.

Blogging Friends. Please continue to keep Jackson, Serene, "Hubby", and the rest of this dear family in your thoughts/prayers!!

New Year's. It is a time of fresh beginnings. Resolutions are made. Then later broken. We purchase new calendars. And it is a time of wild celebrations, which, quite often, involves booming bottle rockets--I call them "bombs"!!--plus one poor, terrified Rose. 9:30 PM. That was the precise time of when our first "bomb" exploded. 9-freakin'-30!! Quite frankly, I was not ready for fireworks. I had been sitting at this very flat-screened desktop computer working hard--and swiftly running out of time!!--on my January children's story for "Minuscule is good!" Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. Midnight was still hours away. Hours!! I still had plenty of time to work on my children's story before all hell broke loose outside based on Rose's perspective. Or so I thought. I linked Rose's spare red leash and we walked toward our great room. There I pet my little girl's velvet-soft fur, each hand stroke calming her nerves. She then cautiously stood up from a laying position. I followed suit, as I'd been sitting down on our carpeted great room floor next to Rose. This one "bomb" was a solitary thing for now. Correct? Nobody else was going to set any more off until 11:30 or midnight. I was confident of it!! Well, I still needed to work on my children's story. So!! Feeling like some workaholic whose priorities need straightened, I returned to this desktop computer, Rose's red leash loosely dangling from my left hand. And I wrote--only a little bit--as my ears could hear distant, nonthreatening fireworks. They grew louder. The computer clock read 10:30 PM. 10-freakin'-30!! Fireworks were now in close proximity to our house, "bombs" literally exploding above the roof. Ready or not, here they come!! My children's story will simply have to wait. Once again, I lead Rose toward our great room. Sheltered from the firework's noise? Not really!! But together in a one-level home with few rooms to escape, we would sit out these "bombs". However long it takes. Did you know that Robert Downey Jr. released a solo album titled "The Futurist"? Well, he did!! That actor can sing!! Which is quite impressive, I think, considering all of the illegal narcotics he used to smoke!! And Robert Downey Jr. can play the piano, as well as other instruments!! Plus write songs!! Even as a poet, I cannot do that!! Well, I received "The Futurist" for Christmas!! Rather than watch some prerecorded New Year's Eve television special, I played Robert Downey Jr.'s C.D.!! Three and a half times!! Obsessive? Perhaps!! But Robert Downey Jr. has a soft voice, which was exactly what Rose needed against the noise of those "bombs"!! Plus. I just so happen to have Robert Downey Jr.'s sweet redemption story/song for his wife Susan--"Man Like Me"--memorized!! So I sang it!! Word for word!! Which furthermore comforted Rose!! So don't knock it!! Outside, our world was engulfed in fog just like on Christmas Eve one week ago!! To which I smiled!! I love, love, love a mystical, deep, thick, eerie fog!! I'm an oddball, this I know!! I thought that with the foggy weather, I'd never see any brilliant colors through windows exploding in our skies. It would be all noise and no show, if you will. Well, I thought incorrectly. Because my eyes caught a glimpse of explosive colors through our dirty, bird poop-stained great room skylight!! However. As though the mystical, deep, thick, eerie fog were some cave, and our outside world was trapped, those "bombs" seemed much more resounding than usual. Now. I have somehow trained myself during fireworks to remain as calm, and emotionless as humanly possible. For Rose. Because amidst every single booming "bomb", she needs me to stay strong. No jumping out of my skin. No gasping. And absolutely no screaming. But I'm afraid that I could not control myself this year!! Because, every time a "bomb" was set off, poor Rose panting as tremors worked through her body, I jumped and gasped!! It was so very intense!! Quite frankly? I had a difficult time deciding who was the most terrified that night!! Rose? Or I? I talked to my little girl sweetly. I wished Rose a happy 2014. I apologized on behalf of our insane neighbors' "bombs". And I told her that she was a good girl. Repeatedly. Because she is!! The "bombs" finally lessened considerably at 12:30 AM. That was twain hours of explosive bottle rockets!! Her spare red leash still linked, I turned off Robert Downey Jr.'s C.D. and lead Rose back to our bedroom. There, I sat with my mutt for another thirty minutes until 1:00 AM, and she was calm. The following morning? I wrote most of my children's story on five hours' sleep.... With lots of chocolate!!

2014. It is going to be a wonderful year....