10 years or less, please

I wouldn't go so far to say that being demanding is against my nature. I'm old enough at 35 to know, that growing up just never seems to end. If that means I'm getting better at being honest, or just apologizing less for being sure, then what's the difference? You either love me or you hate me, or you love and hate yourself in equal measure. I'm no psychologist.

This stem-cell research is a blessing, this I know. And among my homeschool Christian friends, I cannot lie. The future of my child is in embryos, while your disdain for all your fears is "in the sky". I won't hold back my views, my friends, nor will I try.

We've ten years or less to get the cure, and that's the truth. My daughter's nerves will start to shred, or blunt, or curse. I haven't found the reason for this side-effect, nor do I plan to look, I'll just invest. In stem-cell cures.

Ten years is all we have until, the doctor says. Ten years until she's seventeen, and driving. Her feet will reach the pedals, she still can steer. But her feeling of it all will disappear. That's not called thriving.

A typical snack

Yes, pretzels and peanut butter and apples are our standby. We cut the peanut butter to one tablespoon (3g), and 9 pretzels should cover it. The apples are yummy, refreshing, and at 8 grams of carbs, they're practically free.



In between our snacks we fashion design.



Yes, on dry erase boards or laminated paper dolls.



Strange thing, it's been bricks and castle walls they've been drawing lately.



Could be their penchant for dress up, that eventually does us in.

Is this daylight I see?

Now that I've purged the last of my grief out, finished my cravings for everything chocolate and fat-filled, I'm done. The way I'm now seein' it, is it's much like being single and lovin' it, and then suddenly having a newborn.

Bye-bye old self, that you hadn't been warned would be leaving.

The difficulty's in adjusting to the now fact, that new life's 100% dependent on your involvement. So much for ever again being fanciful or free.

I recall the hurdle of becoming a parent. The uncounseled reality that life will never again be all about you. But five kids in, that state was a myth, or at least only temporal, in time things relax and at last you can breathe again.

We left her at the babysitter's tonight, unattended. Somehow timed perfectly, my husband dropped "a date" on me, we'd eaten (already covered the insulin), then out the door.

We checked in only twice for her numbers, she'd already tested herself, which at 127 was spectacular. We can do this, we've done it, let's do it again.

As I tucked my youngest in tonight (she's just two), I imagined the worst was over, and admitted it's true. For the first time in all of my history of parenting, I realized that more terrible things could happen to each of my children, and that's when I knew.

Instead of blocking it out like my fantasy land usually allows me to do. I just sat with the knowledge that no matter what life decides for any of us, we most certainly WILL get through.