“That was one of the happiest days of my life and that is the reason that no one will ever convince me that miracles don’t happen.”

trying to make things right

Donnies foot prints Donnies foot prints Donnie 3 months old and weighed 2 pounds Donnie 3 months old and weighed 2 pounds Me, Donnie, and nurse Me, Donnie, and nurse Do you believe in miracles? I do and here is one of the reasons why.
My son, his name is Donnie and he is 2 years old, he will be 3 on January 15th and he is such a little miracle.
Donnie was born at 23 weeks gestation he weighed 1 pound 2 ounces (a micro preemie) and the doctors told us he that was probably going to die. There was an 85 % chance he would not survive. He was on the strongest breathing machine possible, and his little eyes were still sealed shut, but we had faith that he would make it. There were a couple of nights that things did not look good, and the doctors kept asking us to consider turning off the machines that were keeping him alive. They suggested…

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Ode to January

“The best of times was when I got to see Christmas through the eyes of my own children. That was glorious; a sort of rebirth of joy for me.

They grew up. And no matter how I try, there is no recreating that special time. I get it, but I still try. In the process, I turn into a shrew. (Insert “B” word here).”


JanuaryI truly love January.  It is dark and cold and I am often stuck inside for days. Don’t care. Love it anyway.

It is with great joy that I start up a new personal calendar, turning the page, as it were.

I enjoy the annual exercise of recording important dates in the upcoming year, mostly birthdays, anniversaries, special events in the life of our friends and family.

Interesting side note: There was no reproductive sex in the month of April in our very large extended family…no birthdays at all in January. Not sure what that is all about ??

The real reason for my love of January….. we survived another holiday season.

Sometime just before Thanksgiving, I turn into a person I barely recognize. I obsess over the celebrations in so many unnecessary ways.

For Thanksgiving, it’s all about the food. I approach it the same OCD way if I…

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The Bad News Won’t Stop Coming (so then what?)

“I see myself increasingly pulling back, almost unconsciously putting up protective barriers, ones that conserve my energy for the things I have to do, the things which must come first, all the mundane details of functioning in a life.”


The longer you live, the more events you will live through. Now, we are aware of all of them. Nothing escapes notice or media attention, especially if it is bad. On the one hand, that’s beneficial; people can’t do anything about problems that have never reached their radar. On the other, it’s a burden; we hear of so much we can never do anything about, and yet, as emotional beings, we both want to, and are expected to respond in some way.

I think about this a lot. And I see in myself, a growing protective instinct. I have always been one to worry and fret and feel moved by other people’s pain, especially when it’s visited upon them by no fault of their own. I am not sure, however, that those emotions do anyone any good. In mid-life, too, I see that there’s no end to it. From here…

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