Faith.

Such a small word, isn't it?

Faith in something, it's belief in things unseen or unproven as well as belief in what you know to be a truth. Truth is also a pretty slippery word. Where is your faith? How does it balance between the seen and the unseen?

I've had faith in a lot of dark moments as a parent. Things will work out. Somehow, somewhere, things will keep on. The sun will rise tomorrow, and all of us will be alive when it does. Whether we sleep, whether we're walking the floor with a sleepless child, whether we are driven to our wits end and lock ourselves in the bathroom crying after the little darling hellions are tucked into bed. We start at point A, we will arrive at point B and the distance between the two is not always a straight line. Nobody ever said the world would be easy. Nobody ever said that it has to be hard, either.

I've learned to always look for a bright side to every circumstance, and to try and frame it in my mind as a not-bad thing. My daughter doesn't communicate much? She teaches me to be more observant, and to truly cherish every glance she gives me and every word from her mouth. In the past month she has begun to take the "kiss" game to a new level. In case you've never played it, the kiss game is done thusly: lift your child's elbow, knee, foot, hand to your mouth and kiss it. Say "kiss" in a happy voice while making eye contact. It was one of many ways I got her to learn body parts, while communicating at the same time. As she learned her body parts, she also learned about kisses. She laughed, had a great time, and there was full engagement on her part. Periodically she would even come to me and sit on my lap, lifting her elbow to my mouth repeatedly without any other communication or engagement, and wait for me to kiss it. When I would do so, she would then meet my eyes. And laugh.

So her new thing is to come over to me, take my head between her hands, pull me towards her, and pucker up. She says "kiss!" and lets me lean over to smooch her. This is one of those things that makes me cry for joy.

I had faith that one day she would start breaking through this mental wall. It's starting to crumble. Bit by bit, slow progress, and I can see more of the sunshine gleaming through to the other side.

Likewise, I have faith that my son will continue to grow and thrive. It's a slow journey. It will take a lot of time and some sleepless nights and I know I'll cry as much as I laugh. And yet... one day the sun will shine through on both of them and I will see them whole and happy.

It's been a wonderful day. The husband took the kids out this morning, and this afternoon I had them. Tiffany played in the sprinkler as I watered the lawn. She then played in the wading pool for another hour. Total- about three hours outside, with fresh air, and lots of sunshine. She's growing again. I am crediting the fresh air with her happiness. Nothing like being able to go outside whenever she wants to make her happy; it never gets hot enough here that I have to keep her inside all day.

Robbie was less impressed with the sprinkler. He found himself sitting in it's path at one point, and couldn't figure out how to stop it. All he knew was that he was wet, he was being rained on, and he Did Not Like It.

There's a strong possibility that we'll be getting a second car in the next few weeks. Friends of ours are leaving the service, and have decided not to take their truck with them, and what with one thing and another they offered it to us as a going away present. I'm tickled pink at the thought of being a two car family at last. I'm also not counting trucks before they arrive.

Tonight I tried out a recipe from the Saving Dinner website. Herb Braised Chicken Thighs. I made it without the red potatos, but with a generous portion of the carrots, and it turned out delicious and extra saucy- for my bedtime snack tonight I'm going to add a quarter cup of brown rice to help soak up the sauce, and it will be yummy. Blood sugar has been behaving itself lately, and I'm learning more of the art that is keeping my sugar under control. After dinner glucose on the high side? An extra unit. After dinner glucose on the lesser side? A little less of the insulin at bedtime. Half as many carbs as protein in everything as a general rule of thumb.

Hope everyone else is having as good a day as I'm having.

Surrounding myself with bright things, with warmth and peace, seems to help. Lately I've been fighting many things. Depression. Clutter, both physical and mental. The house is getting cleaner again. The children are getting happier again. We're moving on as time keeps going.

Which is good since the alternative is being stuck. "Stuck" is not a nice place to be. It makes us feel trapped in our lives. We can't break out, we see others living and loving and laughing and we can't quite join them. Something I heard a lot when I was younger and going through Major Therapy was "fake it until you can make it". I haven't thought about that for a while and yet today I can see that's what I should be doing to keep going through this time.

As we're getting ready for surgery and all that goes with it, I can picture in my mind what I want to be seen as. Who do I want to be? Is she a shrew, chronically exhausted and snappy? Is she full of grace and serenity and the ability to cope with anything? That is not a question. I'd much rather not be a shrew. So I picture myself as that other person, that graceful woman who loves herself and her family and takes things slowly and calmly with seldom a pause from sunrise to sunset. Someone who takes time to cherish each smile of her children. Someone who can easily cope with all else.

Sometimes, believing in something enough can make it happen.

build a wall
brick by brick
high and wide and deep enough to last
make it with joy
make it with grace
with all the grace given me
to last my lifetime
inside the wall will grow
roses
roses and lilies sheltered from the wind
from the storms of life outside the wall
inside shelters grace and the slight flicker
flame of hope

amber glass crackles
candle flame glimmering
turns the bowl to a ball of fire
glowing with the hope of every night
the promise of every dawn

My grandmother passed this afternoon, at noon, with no pain and a lot of peace.

She'll be missed. A lot. The last of her generation, and the end of an era for me in some ways.

Nursing is more of a calling than a profession. Like anything worthy of being a calling, it's grown an entire culture. There are nurses who take the job home with them, those who live and breathe the caring. It's more than procedures, it's more than holding hands, it's getting through. I've been a patient more times than I can remember. I've seen my share of nurses- both ends of the spectrum from the ones who clashed with my own personality to the one I'll never forget, who I dubbed privately "LTJG Mary Poppins. Or Ann."

There's a nifty new site celebrating nurses. It's aboutScrubs. Not the show, it's a reference to the uniform that's become as indicative of a nurse as the tshirt and jeans uniform speaks of young adults- from college to the hanging out around the house casually on the weekend. One of the areas, showcasing stories of nurses in the field, spoke about preemies- and as everybody knows by now preemies are something that I am particularly connected to.

There are several good articles on this site as well. One on Nurses with disabilities, one dealing with prayer and patients. Is it okay in this world to pray with your patients? Is it a given that once a nurse suffers a disability that may result in the need for accomodations to be made in the workplace, her career is over?

I don't know if there's one right or wrong answer to any of it. But I do know that this is a site I found to be very well-done. Both in format and content, it remains easy on the eyes and the brain.