Showing posts with label just for fun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label just for fun. Show all posts
The Scoop on Squash
There's nothing like a fresh squash recipe to add flare to a cold weather meal.
There are a myriad of squash varieties in grocery stores this time of year. Wondering which is best for desserts or muffins? Or are you looking for one most suited to a vegetable dish flavored with herbs and butter?
Here are the results of our family's recent taste test which included four participants. (2 adults, 2 children.)
Least Sweet
Gold Acorn (least popular in terms of natural flavor.)
Golden Nugget (described by one of the participants as "earthy," with another comparing it to potatoes.)
Somewhat Sweet
Acorn (very neutral response to this variety.)
Butternut (same as above with one participant commenting on the nice flavor.)
Sweetest
Delicata (one participant selected this variety as sweetest, with all four commenting favorably on the taste.)
Buttercup (three votes as the sweetest, with all commenting on the appealing texture.)
Regardless of sweetness or preparation method, squash makes a great addition to any meal!
What's your favorite variety?
My favorite way to prepare squash is to dehydrate it into Squash Leather.
 |
| View the recipe here. |
What's your favorite variety?
This article was posted on Nomday Monday.
Window Games
Every Saturday we spend two hours cleaning. This saves me the need to clean during the week. It also keeps the kids involved. When our 14-year-old daughter suggested we do a cleaning competition, I jumped at the chance to make our semi-annual window cleaning chore a contest. I sent out this email three days prior:
We gave our competitors an extra five minutes and then watched as our esteemed judge took careful notes, examining each casing and pane.
.JPG)
To the dismay of four of the participants and the elation of one (dealing with the dismayed participants is exactly why the Cleaning Coordinator chose Dad as the judge), the kitchen window was awarded Cleanest Window. When asked for the secret to his success, Colin described his technique of scrubbing and spraying small parts of the window rather than spraying the whole window and then wiping. "Keep scrubbing and spraying," he advises all future window cleaners.
Not bad advice from the winner of the Window Games.
Read More...
This Saturday will be our first-ever Fabry family window cleaning competition. Each of you will be assigned 1-2 windows and our unbiased judge (Dad) will choose the cleanest window. A prize will be awarded to the cleaner of the cleanest window. In a separate and secret email I will let you know which window(s) you are cleaning.We had five competitors. Supplied with their own rags, paper towels, folding chairs, and white vinegar spray bottles, the competitors had 45 minutes to make their windows sparkle. The judge willingly went into seclusion in his office, and the Cleaning Coordinator announced, "Let the Games begin!"
Thank you in advance for your participation.
The Cleaning Coordinator
We gave our competitors an extra five minutes and then watched as our esteemed judge took careful notes, examining each casing and pane.
.JPG)
To the dismay of four of the participants and the elation of one (dealing with the dismayed participants is exactly why the Cleaning Coordinator chose Dad as the judge), the kitchen window was awarded Cleanest Window. When asked for the secret to his success, Colin described his technique of scrubbing and spraying small parts of the window rather than spraying the whole window and then wiping. "Keep scrubbing and spraying," he advises all future window cleaners.
Not bad advice from the winner of the Window Games.
Healthy Holiday Beverages
Festive beverages such as hot chocolate and eggnog are commonly offered at this time of year. Would you like some healthier alternatives? Consider these gluten-free, sugar-free options, demonstrated by my lovely daughter Erin.
Hot Cacao Drink
Coconut Milk "Eggnog"
Read More...
Hot Cacao Drink
- 1 tbsp. cacao powder
- Spices of choice (ex. nutmeg, cloves, cinnamon, cayenne pepper)
- 10 oz. boiling water
- Stevia or sweetener of choice
Coconut Milk "Eggnog"
- Coconut milk (canned, homemade, or in a carton)
- Spices of choice (ex. cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves)
- Vanilla liquid stevia or sweetener of choice
An Untimely Backward 4
I find board games frustrating. Often I get a comfortable lead, gloat to my opponent, and with one unfortunate card I'm back in last place. Candyland is a perfect example. You pick the Queen Frostine card, and you're within striking distance of home. Plumpy shows up and you're back at the beginning.
The newer edition allows a player to ignore a card he doesn't like. In fact, Plumpy doesn't exist! I might be interested in that version, but somehow it feels like cheating.
My kids are into Sorry.
I played last week with my two youngest boys and experienced unprecedented good fortune. I found myself with a myriad of 1's and 11's and a perfectly timed backward 4. Two more cards and I found myself with all four pawns in the safety zone. I could taste victory.
All I needed was a 5 followed by a 3. Instead I drew a backward 4. What?! How could this be? If I moved four squares back I'd be vulnerable. I begged and pleaded. "Please let me go two backward. Please!" They were too savvy to bend the rules.
The next player, Colin, drew a Sorry card. I begged and pleaded again. "Pick Brandon! Please!" There was no denying the truth, however. I was Colin's biggest threat. He mercilessly chose me.
I found myself back at the beginning, and within five minutes the game was over. I finished in last place.
I didn't care, of course. Not really. Those 15 minutes were fun. Exciting. Frustrating. And funny. Most of all, they were shared. One day the three of us will laugh about our shared experience, because Sorry is just like life.
We work hard to get into the safety zone and do our best to protect ourselves from pain and sorrow. We hang on to our possessions and our loved ones.
Until some unfortunate card pulls us out of safety and forces us to see the truth about life.
The truth that all the retirement plans and insurance policies in the world can't keep us from pain and loss. Tornadoes hit, illness strikes, wealth disappears, and dreams are crushed. Sorry cards are part of living.
The good news is that there is an eternal home where safety becomes reality. A place described in the book of Revelation:
And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes;
and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying,
neither shall there be any more pain.
and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying,
neither shall there be any more pain.
Until that day comes we share, we bond, we laugh, we love, and we play with all our heart. Confident that, ultimately, the card we draw doesn't matter. Only that we keep moving forward. Even with an untimely backward 4.
Signs of the Times
As we celebrated Kristen's 17th birthday last weekend, I was reminded how much our life has changed in a few years. It came to light as we gave her gifts. Not only did I see how well the kids know each other, I saw the humor in the type of gifts we're giving. Here are some examples:
1. Personal Wellness Journal Health Diary and Symptoms Log. Not only was Kristen excited about this... several of us were jealous! We've learned from Colin's diabetes just how helpful it is to keep track of foods and activity related to symptoms. (Click here to find out more about the journal.)
2. Yoga Mat. Not just any yoga mat. An off-gassed yoga mat! Her older brother purchased the mat, wiped it down with white vinegar and left it outside for several days. No more "new" smell that might impede Kristen's performance.
3. Lulu's Chocolate. With sugar and grains out of our diet, it's hard to find treats that fit our criteria. Lulu's chocolate bars range in carb content from 8-13 carbs total! Kristen enjoyed the coconut version, which contains Cacao, Coconut Palm Sugar, Coconut, Cinnamon, Mesquite, Vanilla Bean, and Sea Salt. (Find out more about Lulu's here.)
4. Birthday Boutique. Clothes shopping is not as much fun as it once was, due to the heavy fragrances. Kristen enjoyed a clothing rack full of specially selected dresses, jeans, and tops. She chose the things that fit well and I returned the rest. Shopping at home was much more fun!
The best gift was a book filled with expressions of appreciation for Kristen. Colin said it best when he wrote his answer to this: “The thing I admire most about you is...”
“You never give up, even when you think it's impossible.”
Maybe the gifts have changed over the years, but not Kristen's fortuitous heart. Happy Birthday, Kristen.
Read More...
1. Personal Wellness Journal Health Diary and Symptoms Log. Not only was Kristen excited about this... several of us were jealous! We've learned from Colin's diabetes just how helpful it is to keep track of foods and activity related to symptoms. (Click here to find out more about the journal.)
2. Yoga Mat. Not just any yoga mat. An off-gassed yoga mat! Her older brother purchased the mat, wiped it down with white vinegar and left it outside for several days. No more "new" smell that might impede Kristen's performance.
3. Lulu's Chocolate. With sugar and grains out of our diet, it's hard to find treats that fit our criteria. Lulu's chocolate bars range in carb content from 8-13 carbs total! Kristen enjoyed the coconut version, which contains Cacao, Coconut Palm Sugar, Coconut, Cinnamon, Mesquite, Vanilla Bean, and Sea Salt. (Find out more about Lulu's here.)
4. Birthday Boutique. Clothes shopping is not as much fun as it once was, due to the heavy fragrances. Kristen enjoyed a clothing rack full of specially selected dresses, jeans, and tops. She chose the things that fit well and I returned the rest. Shopping at home was much more fun!
The best gift was a book filled with expressions of appreciation for Kristen. Colin said it best when he wrote his answer to this: “The thing I admire most about you is...”
“You never give up, even when you think it's impossible.”
Maybe the gifts have changed over the years, but not Kristen's fortuitous heart. Happy Birthday, Kristen.
Eco Easter Eggs
There are healthy, natural alternatives for just about anything! Including this fun option for dying Easter eggs:
According to The Herb Companion,
Dip the hard-boiled eggs into white vinegar before beginning, and set aside. Then bring each dye ingredient (listed below) to a boil with 4 cups of water and 2 tablespoons of white vinegar; strain the dyes into small dipping bowls and allow to cool.
To dye eggs, dip them into the bowls for about five minutes, or longer for deeper colors. And be creative! Use two different dyes on one egg to create unique colors, or dye eggs half in one color and half in another. Below are the ingredients you need to get the best colors.
• Gold: Use 4 tablespoons of turmeric.
• Brown: Experiment with about 2 cups of strongly brewed coffee or tea for different shades of tan and brown.
• Purple: Use 4 cups of frozen blueberries.
• Light pink: Use a 12-oz. package of cranberries.
• Dark pink: Use 6 cups of chopped beets.
• Blue: Use 16 cups of chopped red cabbage (use 2 more quarts of water and 6 tablespoons more vinegar for this dye).
A similar article suggests using spinach to obtain the color green.
Read More...
According to The Herb Companion,
Dip the hard-boiled eggs into white vinegar before beginning, and set aside. Then bring each dye ingredient (listed below) to a boil with 4 cups of water and 2 tablespoons of white vinegar; strain the dyes into small dipping bowls and allow to cool.
To dye eggs, dip them into the bowls for about five minutes, or longer for deeper colors. And be creative! Use two different dyes on one egg to create unique colors, or dye eggs half in one color and half in another. Below are the ingredients you need to get the best colors.
• Gold: Use 4 tablespoons of turmeric.
• Brown: Experiment with about 2 cups of strongly brewed coffee or tea for different shades of tan and brown.
• Purple: Use 4 cups of frozen blueberries.
• Light pink: Use a 12-oz. package of cranberries.
• Dark pink: Use 6 cups of chopped beets.
• Blue: Use 16 cups of chopped red cabbage (use 2 more quarts of water and 6 tablespoons more vinegar for this dye).
A similar article suggests using spinach to obtain the color green.
Flax Huts
In years past, our Gingerbread House Competition was a highlight of the Christmas season. Every December, graham crackers, powdered sugar, and candy were magically transformed into masterpieces.
Given our current dietary needs, we decided to come up with an alternative. A gluten-free, sugar-free, grain-free, dairy-free version which we titled "Ginger Flax Hut Competition."
We used chia gel and honey for glue. The homemade glue made of milk, white vinegar, and baking soda failed, so we resorted to non-toxic school glue when necessary. We used cranberries, rhubarb, daikon radish, green beans, mung beans, broccoli, kelp, nori (which makes a great roof), green juice pulp, carrots, cauliflower, cinnamon sticks, and lots of imagination.
Pictured below, a sampling of our award-winning entries.
The best news about our new tradition? We weren't tempted to eat our creations. The broccoli and green beans somehow lost their appeal.
Coming after Christmas: 10 Rational Reasons for Not Changing Your Diet in the New Year. Stay tuned!
Read More...
Given our current dietary needs, we decided to come up with an alternative. A gluten-free, sugar-free, grain-free, dairy-free version which we titled "Ginger Flax Hut Competition."
We used chia gel and honey for glue. The homemade glue made of milk, white vinegar, and baking soda failed, so we resorted to non-toxic school glue when necessary. We used cranberries, rhubarb, daikon radish, green beans, mung beans, broccoli, kelp, nori (which makes a great roof), green juice pulp, carrots, cauliflower, cinnamon sticks, and lots of imagination.
Pictured below, a sampling of our award-winning entries.
The best news about our new tradition? We weren't tempted to eat our creations. The broccoli and green beans somehow lost their appeal.
Coming after Christmas: 10 Rational Reasons for Not Changing Your Diet in the New Year. Stay tuned!
Two-Year Reflection
Two years ago, on October 4, the kids and I went for a hike on the Santa Fe Trail. Chris was out of town, our older kids were living in apartments, and I was pondering a disturbing discussion. I had just talked with a toxicologist, who suggested we vacate our home.
I was shocked.
After all, we had completed two mold remediations. We replaced virtually everything in the home. Surely we were going to put our painful past behind us and move forward with our lives.
A deep anxiety came over me as we walked. My brain was fogged, my tongue had turned black on top, and I felt alone with an overwhelming sense that the toxicologist was right. The kids were innocently riding their bikes…oblivious to the heaviness of my soul.
Two weeks ago, on October 4, the kids and I hiked a trail at Saguaro National Park. My brain was not fogged, my joints no longer ached, there was no more black tongue, but my soul remained heavy.
Life has not gotten easier because we left. In some ways it’s much harder. Post-traumatic stress, chemical sensitivity, ongoing food intolerances, and fragile immune systems dominate our lives.
It makes me think of the Israelites and their journey out of slavery. I’m sure they expected life to get better once they were free.
Instead they wandered. For years. Eating the same food and enduring one hardship after another. I bet the mothers ached for their kids as I ache for mine.
Here's how one commentator describes the lesson of the Israelites.
“The shortest and easiest way is not always the best way. Sometimes the longest and most difficult journey is the safest, surest and best in the end.”
Things happened in that desert that needed to happen, that couldn't happen any other way.
I find this comforting as I watch my kids grieve their losses and fight their battles. Here is a picture of our hike two weeks ago.
You can barely see us in the picture. But there we are, navigating through the rocks and cactus. Praying for the strength and courage to keep on climbing. Grateful to have come this far. Inspired by the words of Helen Keller,
“Although the world is very full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.”
Read More...
I was shocked.
After all, we had completed two mold remediations. We replaced virtually everything in the home. Surely we were going to put our painful past behind us and move forward with our lives.
A deep anxiety came over me as we walked. My brain was fogged, my tongue had turned black on top, and I felt alone with an overwhelming sense that the toxicologist was right. The kids were innocently riding their bikes…oblivious to the heaviness of my soul.
Two weeks ago, on October 4, the kids and I hiked a trail at Saguaro National Park. My brain was not fogged, my joints no longer ached, there was no more black tongue, but my soul remained heavy.
Life has not gotten easier because we left. In some ways it’s much harder. Post-traumatic stress, chemical sensitivity, ongoing food intolerances, and fragile immune systems dominate our lives.
It makes me think of the Israelites and their journey out of slavery. I’m sure they expected life to get better once they were free.
Instead they wandered. For years. Eating the same food and enduring one hardship after another. I bet the mothers ached for their kids as I ache for mine.
Here's how one commentator describes the lesson of the Israelites.
“The shortest and easiest way is not always the best way. Sometimes the longest and most difficult journey is the safest, surest and best in the end.”
Things happened in that desert that needed to happen, that couldn't happen any other way.
I find this comforting as I watch my kids grieve their losses and fight their battles. Here is a picture of our hike two weeks ago.
“Although the world is very full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.”
Time Lapse
We bought Reagan a simple video camera soon after he became ill. He was homebound at the time and unable to walk. He was such a frail 11-year-old that I carried him around the house. I remember his siblings pulling him on a blanket along the kitchen floor so he could film a “moving shot.”
Reagan’s camera went with him to hospitals and rehab units. He documented his visitors and his progress.
He spent hours learning the art of editing. He was alone with his spinning brain and found solace in his moviemaking. Unless the vertigo overtook him. His imagination, however, never faltered.
Neither did his dream of becoming a filmmaker.
Fast-forward 33 months, to the summer of 2010.
Reagan is 14 years old. He's taller than me and can now carry me. His head is no longer spinning. The ringing in his left ear is negligible. He missed virtually all of middle school and yet passed the 8th grade standardized testing for the state of Arizona.
His tragedy is slowly turning to triumph.
Video making is a daily part of his life now. He even has his own channel. This weekend he created a time-lapse video. Time lapse is a filmmaking technique that utilizes film frames to accelerate a naturally slow process. According to Wikipedia, “Processes that would normally appear subtle to the human eye . . . become very pronounced.”
The changes in Reagan over these months and years have been subtle. Too subtle at times. I have lost heart more than once.
I watched Reagan's video on Saturday night and wept. His progress was suddenly so pronounced.
I'm learning. The only way to live is one film frame at a time.
(One of Reagan's scars is the loss of hearing in his left ear. You'll see how he wears his headphones in this video.)
Read More...
Reagan’s camera went with him to hospitals and rehab units. He documented his visitors and his progress.
He spent hours learning the art of editing. He was alone with his spinning brain and found solace in his moviemaking. Unless the vertigo overtook him. His imagination, however, never faltered.
Neither did his dream of becoming a filmmaker.
Fast-forward 33 months, to the summer of 2010.
Reagan is 14 years old. He's taller than me and can now carry me. His head is no longer spinning. The ringing in his left ear is negligible. He missed virtually all of middle school and yet passed the 8th grade standardized testing for the state of Arizona.
His tragedy is slowly turning to triumph.
Video making is a daily part of his life now. He even has his own channel. This weekend he created a time-lapse video. Time lapse is a filmmaking technique that utilizes film frames to accelerate a naturally slow process. According to Wikipedia, “Processes that would normally appear subtle to the human eye . . . become very pronounced.”
The changes in Reagan over these months and years have been subtle. Too subtle at times. I have lost heart more than once.
I watched Reagan's video on Saturday night and wept. His progress was suddenly so pronounced.
I'm learning. The only way to live is one film frame at a time.
(One of Reagan's scars is the loss of hearing in his left ear. You'll see how he wears his headphones in this video.)
Summer Chores
We're implementing a tried-and-true chore plan this summer. One I used successfully for many years prior to the chaos of these last three years.
In the event you are a household manager looking for ways to provide some structure this summer, I thought I would share it.
This plan works for pre-school through high school. It is virtually whine-free and conflict-free. I say virtually. I have yet to experience perfect harmony on any given day. Chores or no chores. Mold or no mold.
I prefer a chalkboard for this, but a dry erase board can work as well.
I write a list of chores on the board. (Currently we have 5 children on the plan. I write 5 chores on the board.)
Each participant picks one chore upon awakening each weekday morning. (This provides an incentive to be the first to get out of bed.) They initial their choice and complete it before noon.
If they forget, or sleep past noon, they have an extra chore.
Sometimes I put bonus chores on the board, in the event someone is looking to make some extra money.
They each have a timeslip where they record completion of the task and any bonus chores, in addition to their routine requirements such as making their bed, reading for 30 minutes, exercising for 20 minutes, taking their supplements and herbs, etc. They turn in their timeslip every two weeks for payment. (Currently 5 dollars a week.)
We're still climbing our mountain, but the return of our chalkboard offers a glimpse of a new, recovered life.
Read More...
In the event you are a household manager looking for ways to provide some structure this summer, I thought I would share it.
This plan works for pre-school through high school. It is virtually whine-free and conflict-free. I say virtually. I have yet to experience perfect harmony on any given day. Chores or no chores. Mold or no mold.
I prefer a chalkboard for this, but a dry erase board can work as well.
I write a list of chores on the board. (Currently we have 5 children on the plan. I write 5 chores on the board.)
Each participant picks one chore upon awakening each weekday morning. (This provides an incentive to be the first to get out of bed.) They initial their choice and complete it before noon.
If they forget, or sleep past noon, they have an extra chore.
Sometimes I put bonus chores on the board, in the event someone is looking to make some extra money.
They each have a timeslip where they record completion of the task and any bonus chores, in addition to their routine requirements such as making their bed, reading for 30 minutes, exercising for 20 minutes, taking their supplements and herbs, etc. They turn in their timeslip every two weeks for payment. (Currently 5 dollars a week.)
We're still climbing our mountain, but the return of our chalkboard offers a glimpse of a new, recovered life.
Easter Pie and Soaked Almonds
We enjoyed a strawberry pie for Easter dinner. Not a traditional pie. One with frozen strawberries and an almond crust. We broke tradition another way. Our oldest daughter was able to have a piece.
Erin developed a mild nut allergy in her preschool days. Her allergy became severe shortly after moving into our Colorado home. Soon she carried an EpiPen and Benadryl. On her 19th birthday she wound up in the ER after eating ice cream sprinkled with nut pieces. (She thought she scraped them all off.) She was so shocked and terrified by her reaction, she overdid the Benadryl.
We have gradually eliminated nuts from our diet in the last year. Peanuts are commonly contaminated with aflatoxins. Nuts in general are prone to rancidity.
We have not given up on almonds, however. They offer tremendous health benefits if they are raw and organic.
They offer even greater benefit if they are soaked and dehydrated. The enzyme inhibitors are released during the soaking process. The good enzymes are then more readily absorbed into the system.
As I ventured into the world of dehydrating and learned more about the benefits of soaking all grains, beans, and nuts, I wondered about Erin's nut allergy. I wondered if the release of the enzyme inhibitors would allow her to handle an almond or two.
She wondered the same thing. Armed with Benadryl, she tried a soaked and dehydrated almond. No reaction.
She tried a regular almond and immediately had to take Benadryl.
She now eats almonds whenever she wants. As long as they're soaked.
Soaking almonds is a simple process. Place them in a bowl. Cover them with water. Add a bit of salt if desired. Wait 7 hours or allow to soak overnight. At this point you can keep the skins or remove them. The almonds will have begun the sprouting process and are ready to be dehydrated.
I'm not sure what this means for other nut allergy sufferers. I haven't studied the medical implications.
I do know our Easter Pie tasted extra special.
Recipe for Strawberry Pie2 tbls. coconut oil
1 c. pitted dates
1 c. shredded coconut
1 c. almonds
Mix dry ingredients in high-powered blender or food processor. Blend in dates and coconut oil. Press dough into pie plate.
2 c. coconut
2 tbls. coconut oil
1/8 c. honey or sweetener of choice. More if desired.
2 c. frozen or fresh strawberries
Blend in high-powered blender. Spoon into pie crust. Refrigerate.
Read More...
Erin developed a mild nut allergy in her preschool days. Her allergy became severe shortly after moving into our Colorado home. Soon she carried an EpiPen and Benadryl. On her 19th birthday she wound up in the ER after eating ice cream sprinkled with nut pieces. (She thought she scraped them all off.) She was so shocked and terrified by her reaction, she overdid the Benadryl.
We have gradually eliminated nuts from our diet in the last year. Peanuts are commonly contaminated with aflatoxins. Nuts in general are prone to rancidity.
We have not given up on almonds, however. They offer tremendous health benefits if they are raw and organic.
They offer even greater benefit if they are soaked and dehydrated. The enzyme inhibitors are released during the soaking process. The good enzymes are then more readily absorbed into the system.
As I ventured into the world of dehydrating and learned more about the benefits of soaking all grains, beans, and nuts, I wondered about Erin's nut allergy. I wondered if the release of the enzyme inhibitors would allow her to handle an almond or two.
She wondered the same thing. Armed with Benadryl, she tried a soaked and dehydrated almond. No reaction.
She tried a regular almond and immediately had to take Benadryl.
She now eats almonds whenever she wants. As long as they're soaked.
Soaking almonds is a simple process. Place them in a bowl. Cover them with water. Add a bit of salt if desired. Wait 7 hours or allow to soak overnight. At this point you can keep the skins or remove them. The almonds will have begun the sprouting process and are ready to be dehydrated.
I'm not sure what this means for other nut allergy sufferers. I haven't studied the medical implications.
I do know our Easter Pie tasted extra special.
Recipe for Strawberry Pie2 tbls. coconut oil
1 c. pitted dates
1 c. shredded coconut
1 c. almonds
Mix dry ingredients in high-powered blender or food processor. Blend in dates and coconut oil. Press dough into pie plate.
2 c. coconut
2 tbls. coconut oil
1/8 c. honey or sweetener of choice. More if desired.
2 c. frozen or fresh strawberries
Blend in high-powered blender. Spoon into pie crust. Refrigerate.
A Dangling Headphone
Reagan went exploring in the desert yesterday on his bike. As readers of this blog know, we've had many ups and downs with that bike.
The same is true with his health. Reagan continues to struggle with a vestibular disorder. He also has severe hearing loss in his left ear. I get a kick out of him. Every time he does the dishes he listens to music with the left headphone dangling.
Because we were clueless about the mold in our home, we took extreme measures when he first grew ill. I've chronicled his journey in this entry.
While we have much to learn about the chronic nature of his condition, we continue to see the importance of diet.
This fall we put Reagan on the same strict anti-fungal diet that had proven so helpful to our older kids and myself. No bread, no pizza, no grains of any kind, no sugar either. Not an easy transition for a growing 13-year-old boy.
By the third day, as predicted, he grew very very sick. The fungus was dying off. By the fifth day something was different. By the second week he looked better than he had in two years.
October 4th we went out to dinner. Reagan begged to go off the diet. He wanted a bun with his hamburger and the Luna bar he had been saving for the day.
He savored every moment of the meal. Even had some organic ice cream later in the night. Sometime after midnight, Reagan woke me up. It had been a while since I'd felt that tug on my foot. He was spinning. Close to vomiting. We walked into the kitchen. He struggled to keep his balance, and said, "It's my fault. It's all my fault."
"Honey," I said. "Most 13-year-old boys can eat hamburgers and Luna bars and ice cream. None of this is your fault. None of it."
And so we sat up together. Just like old times. "I can't believe I used to feel this way all the time," he sighed. "I just got so used to it." He shook his head in disbelief.
Then he started to talk about the past. For the first time in two years he talked about that first night he vomited. He asked if he ever vomited after that first night. I was astounded and grateful beyond words. He had forgotten! He talked about the doctors, the nurses, the rehab nurses, his teachers, the video games. He talked about missing school, his friends. And then he grew quiet.
"You know, the past is like a rear view mirror. If you look at it too long, you crash."
I found myself silenced by his wisdom. And encouraged by its truth.
It's easy for me to take my eyes off the road. Especially when it comes to our decisions early on.
The first thing Reagan asked for, after we bought his bike, was a rear view mirror.
I don't know where this path is taking Reagan. I know many roadblocks are on the horizon. He’ll get through them. So will we. We’re traveling this road with a listening heart. Even if one headphone is dangling.
Read More...
The same is true with his health. Reagan continues to struggle with a vestibular disorder. He also has severe hearing loss in his left ear. I get a kick out of him. Every time he does the dishes he listens to music with the left headphone dangling.
Because we were clueless about the mold in our home, we took extreme measures when he first grew ill. I've chronicled his journey in this entry.
While we have much to learn about the chronic nature of his condition, we continue to see the importance of diet.
This fall we put Reagan on the same strict anti-fungal diet that had proven so helpful to our older kids and myself. No bread, no pizza, no grains of any kind, no sugar either. Not an easy transition for a growing 13-year-old boy.
By the third day, as predicted, he grew very very sick. The fungus was dying off. By the fifth day something was different. By the second week he looked better than he had in two years.
October 4th we went out to dinner. Reagan begged to go off the diet. He wanted a bun with his hamburger and the Luna bar he had been saving for the day.
He savored every moment of the meal. Even had some organic ice cream later in the night. Sometime after midnight, Reagan woke me up. It had been a while since I'd felt that tug on my foot. He was spinning. Close to vomiting. We walked into the kitchen. He struggled to keep his balance, and said, "It's my fault. It's all my fault."
"Honey," I said. "Most 13-year-old boys can eat hamburgers and Luna bars and ice cream. None of this is your fault. None of it."
And so we sat up together. Just like old times. "I can't believe I used to feel this way all the time," he sighed. "I just got so used to it." He shook his head in disbelief.
Then he started to talk about the past. For the first time in two years he talked about that first night he vomited. He asked if he ever vomited after that first night. I was astounded and grateful beyond words. He had forgotten! He talked about the doctors, the nurses, the rehab nurses, his teachers, the video games. He talked about missing school, his friends. And then he grew quiet.
"You know, the past is like a rear view mirror. If you look at it too long, you crash."
I found myself silenced by his wisdom. And encouraged by its truth.
It's easy for me to take my eyes off the road. Especially when it comes to our decisions early on.
The first thing Reagan asked for, after we bought his bike, was a rear view mirror.
I don't know where this path is taking Reagan. I know many roadblocks are on the horizon. He’ll get through them. So will we. We’re traveling this road with a listening heart. Even if one headphone is dangling.
New Year Perspective
As the Christmas decorations are tucked away, and the glitter gives way to a New Year...
Earthly sorrows often take center stage. It may be the loss of a loved one, betrayal by a friend, chronic illness, financial strain, or simply a sense of emptiness or longing.
I've thought a great deal about the book of Job this year. And found great consolation in the following passage from the book The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoevsky.
Here, the kind and patient monk, Father Zossima, reflects on the story of Job and his own waning moments on Earth.
... I've never been able to read that sacred tale without tears. And how much that is great, mysterious, and unfathomable there is in it! The words of mockery and blame, proud words, "How could God give up the most loved of his saints for the diversion of the devil, take from him his children, smite him with sore boils so that he cleansed the corruptions from his sores with a potsherd - and for no object except to boast to the devil! 'See how much My saint can suffer for My sake!'”
But the greatness of it all lies just in the fact that it is a mystery—that the passing earthly show and the eternal verity are brought together in it. In the face of earthly truth, the eternal truth is accomplished.
The Creator, just as on the first days of creation ended each day with praise: "that is good that I have created," looks upon Job and again praises His creation. And Job praising the Lord, serves not only Him but all His creation for generations and generations, and for ever and ever, since for that he was ordained.
Good heavens, what a book it is, and lessons there are in it!
What a book the Bible is! What a miracle and what strength is given with it to man! It is just like a sculpture of the whole world and all its human characters, with everything named there and everything shown for ever and ever.
And what mysteries are solved and revealed; God raises Job again, gives him wealth again. Many years pass by, and he has other children and loves them. But how could he love those new ones when his old children are no more, when he has lost them? Remembering them, how could he be completely happy with the new ones, however dear the new ones might be? But he could, he could! It's the great mystery of human life that old grief passes gradually into quiet tender joy. The mild serenity of age takes the place of the riotous blood of youth.
I bless the rising sun each day, and, as before, my heart sings to meet it, but now I love even more its setting, its long slanting rays and the soft tender gentle memories that come with them, the dear images from the whole of my long happy life - and over all the Divine Truth, softening, reconciling, forgiving! My life is ending, I know that well, but every day that is left me I feel how my earthly life is in touch with a new infinite, unknown, but approaching life, the nearness of which sets my soul quivering with rapture, my mind glowing, and my heart weeping with joy.
Read More...
Earthly sorrows often take center stage. It may be the loss of a loved one, betrayal by a friend, chronic illness, financial strain, or simply a sense of emptiness or longing.
I've thought a great deal about the book of Job this year. And found great consolation in the following passage from the book The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoevsky.
Here, the kind and patient monk, Father Zossima, reflects on the story of Job and his own waning moments on Earth.
... I've never been able to read that sacred tale without tears. And how much that is great, mysterious, and unfathomable there is in it! The words of mockery and blame, proud words, "How could God give up the most loved of his saints for the diversion of the devil, take from him his children, smite him with sore boils so that he cleansed the corruptions from his sores with a potsherd - and for no object except to boast to the devil! 'See how much My saint can suffer for My sake!'”
But the greatness of it all lies just in the fact that it is a mystery—that the passing earthly show and the eternal verity are brought together in it. In the face of earthly truth, the eternal truth is accomplished.
The Creator, just as on the first days of creation ended each day with praise: "that is good that I have created," looks upon Job and again praises His creation. And Job praising the Lord, serves not only Him but all His creation for generations and generations, and for ever and ever, since for that he was ordained.
Good heavens, what a book it is, and lessons there are in it!
What a book the Bible is! What a miracle and what strength is given with it to man! It is just like a sculpture of the whole world and all its human characters, with everything named there and everything shown for ever and ever.
And what mysteries are solved and revealed; God raises Job again, gives him wealth again. Many years pass by, and he has other children and loves them. But how could he love those new ones when his old children are no more, when he has lost them? Remembering them, how could he be completely happy with the new ones, however dear the new ones might be? But he could, he could! It's the great mystery of human life that old grief passes gradually into quiet tender joy. The mild serenity of age takes the place of the riotous blood of youth.
I bless the rising sun each day, and, as before, my heart sings to meet it, but now I love even more its setting, its long slanting rays and the soft tender gentle memories that come with them, the dear images from the whole of my long happy life - and over all the Divine Truth, softening, reconciling, forgiving! My life is ending, I know that well, but every day that is left me I feel how my earthly life is in touch with a new infinite, unknown, but approaching life, the nearness of which sets my soul quivering with rapture, my mind glowing, and my heart weeping with joy.
The Day the War Stopped
On Christmas Day, 1914, World War I came to a halt. German soldiers placed candles on trees and sang Christmas carols, most notably Stille Nacht. British troops responded by singing English carols.
The unofficial truce fulfilled the wishes of Pope Benedict XV, "that the guns may fall silent at least upon the night the angels sang."
It felt like a cease-fire at our house Christmas Day. It's not what I expected. Two days earlier Kaitlyn fell while hiking and broke her collarbone. An "8-week-recovery" break.
I felt overwhelmed for her pain, her setback, and the financial implications.
Christmas Eve I silently cried myself to sleep. Kaitlyn's injury brought other grief to the surface.
My first Christmas without my mom, remaining physical challenges, an uncertain financial future.
I awoke with a renewed sense of peace. Maybe it was the excitement of the kids. The fortitude of my husband. Or the sound of The Muppet Christmas Carol playing in the living room.
Our breakfast was simple. We took no chances and didn't stray too far from our diet. We did add eggs. Something we haven't had for 5 months. I made pancakes with coconut flour and flax.
We juiced mango and pineapple for a treat.
We spent 3 hours opening gifts. And the cease-fire began. Nothing but laughter and singing. Excitement as the kids gave gifts to each other.
And not a thought about health or symptoms. Heavy exposure to toxic mold results in an internal war. The evil mycotoxins absorb into the body, circulate through the bloodstream, and affect our body systematically. Recovery, especially for those of us with the 4353 genotype, means a long, hard battle. A battle requiring constant strategizing and vigilance.
We didn't talk about the war once.
Better yet, we made it all the way to dinner without one fight! Even then it was only a minor skirmish.
"This is our best Christmas ever!" I heard time and time again. It's the good that comes from loss. Expectations diminish.
Tomorrow the battle will resume. Our informal armistice will be over.
But I'll always treasure Christmas Day 2009. I'm just sure I heard angels singing.
Read More...
The unofficial truce fulfilled the wishes of Pope Benedict XV, "that the guns may fall silent at least upon the night the angels sang."
It felt like a cease-fire at our house Christmas Day. It's not what I expected. Two days earlier Kaitlyn fell while hiking and broke her collarbone. An "8-week-recovery" break.
I felt overwhelmed for her pain, her setback, and the financial implications.
Christmas Eve I silently cried myself to sleep. Kaitlyn's injury brought other grief to the surface.
My first Christmas without my mom, remaining physical challenges, an uncertain financial future.
I awoke with a renewed sense of peace. Maybe it was the excitement of the kids. The fortitude of my husband. Or the sound of The Muppet Christmas Carol playing in the living room.
Our breakfast was simple. We took no chances and didn't stray too far from our diet. We did add eggs. Something we haven't had for 5 months. I made pancakes with coconut flour and flax.
We juiced mango and pineapple for a treat.
We spent 3 hours opening gifts. And the cease-fire began. Nothing but laughter and singing. Excitement as the kids gave gifts to each other.
And not a thought about health or symptoms. Heavy exposure to toxic mold results in an internal war. The evil mycotoxins absorb into the body, circulate through the bloodstream, and affect our body systematically. Recovery, especially for those of us with the 4353 genotype, means a long, hard battle. A battle requiring constant strategizing and vigilance.
We didn't talk about the war once.
Better yet, we made it all the way to dinner without one fight! Even then it was only a minor skirmish.
"This is our best Christmas ever!" I heard time and time again. It's the good that comes from loss. Expectations diminish.
Tomorrow the battle will resume. Our informal armistice will be over.
But I'll always treasure Christmas Day 2009. I'm just sure I heard angels singing.
Perfect Match
When Chris and I were househunting for our very first home in 1988, our realtor exhorted us to stop looking for the "perfect house." I was taken aback as I was only commenting on the size of the master closet. Still, Chris and I took the advice to heart.
"If you're looking for the perfect car," Chris will quip in the middle of car shopping. "If you're looking for the perfect computer," I'll joke while he agonizes over an electronics decision.
Today is our 27th wedding anniversary. We exchanged cards this morning. Each card contained the words "perfect match."
Perfection is different for me now. It's not a house with a big closet. Or a marriage without conflict.
It's love in the midst of sorrow. Patience in the midst of trial.
Determination despite despair.
We didn't find the perfect house in 1988. We sure didn't when we moved to Colorado in 2000.
But love is bigger than whatever we face. Conflict. Mold. Illness.
And God is the one who brings two young, naive souls together and keeps them together despite overwhelming odds.
Demonstrating that two imperfect people can, with time and
adversity, become the perfect match.
Read More...
"If you're looking for the perfect car," Chris will quip in the middle of car shopping. "If you're looking for the perfect computer," I'll joke while he agonizes over an electronics decision.
Today is our 27th wedding anniversary. We exchanged cards this morning. Each card contained the words "perfect match."
Perfection is different for me now. It's not a house with a big closet. Or a marriage without conflict.
It's love in the midst of sorrow. Patience in the midst of trial.
Determination despite despair.
We didn't find the perfect house in 1988. We sure didn't when we moved to Colorado in 2000.
But love is bigger than whatever we face. Conflict. Mold. Illness.
And God is the one who brings two young, naive souls together and keeps them together despite overwhelming odds.
Demonstrating that two imperfect people can, with time and
adversity, become the perfect match.
Bike Swap
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I stole a bike recently from a friendly neighborhood department store. I didn’t mean to. Honestly.
We bought a bike for Reagan in October. We paid extra for the replacement plan.
Within the first week Reagan came home with tire problems. Soon the rear brakes failed. It was time to utilize our replacement plan.
I took the bike to the store (a 40-minute drive), and learned that "replacement" might not be an accurate word for our plan. A phone number was mentioned, but it was clear: keep the bike.
I talked with the manager about the brakes, the tires, and our general dissatisfaction with the product. He agreed to have his bike guys fix the brake and take a look at the tire.
“The assembly department is in another building. I’ll walk it over, and we’ll call you when it’s ready. Should be about 20 minutes,” the manager assured me.
I completed my Saturday re-stocking mission and 45 minutes later went to inquire at customer service. I saw Reagan’s bike and decided to save the inquiry and head home. Confidently, I walked the bike to my car. Assuming the rear brake was fixed, I decided to stop at a bicycle repair shop and have them install Slime. (Slime is a tire sealant, in case you’re like me and never heard of it. Every bike rider in the desert uses it, evidently.)
As I headed into the shop I noticed a missing pedal. I took a deep breath, assumed it fell off during the repair, and purchased a new set of pedals. I sprang for the extra-durable tire along with the Slime. Thirty-five dollars later I came out with a new and better bike for my son.
Within a day the handlebars failed. Chris kept tightening them but they kept loosening whenever Reagan would ride in the desert. Within a week Reagan wasn’t riding his new bike.
Two weeks later, as we contemplated the future of the bike, I received a call on my cell phone. It was one of the bike assemblers letting me know, “Your bike is ready.”
In denial and disbelief and without hesitation I said, “Thank you.”
Now what? How do I explain? What do I do with our investment of the new tire? What about the boy who came back for his missing-pedal bike? I can't handle our next meal, let alone this dilemma. Our best option, I rationalized, was to retrieve Reagan’s bike, switch out the tires, and return the “stolen” bike.
Chris picked up Reagan's bike and we followed the plan. Our neighbor helped us with the tires.
Chris drew the “return the bike” straw this week. As he walked the bike toward customer service he prepared his speech. When he arrived, the customer service line wound all the way around to the junior department. He saw a line of bikes in the "return" area and parked it next to the others. He was not guilt-free in doing this, but he was glad he didn't have to stand in line.
I share this story for four reasons:
1. To encourage others to read the fine print on replacement plans. It's Christmas, after all.
2. To celebrate the fact that our son, while still struggling with vestibular issues, is riding a bike.
3. To remind others to inspect a bike carefully before walking away with it.
4. To note the wisdom of the quote by Billy Wilder that "hindsight is always twenty-twenty."
Whether a bike with a broken pedal, or a house with toxic mold, everything is much clearer in retrospect.
Read More...
We bought a bike for Reagan in October. We paid extra for the replacement plan.
Within the first week Reagan came home with tire problems. Soon the rear brakes failed. It was time to utilize our replacement plan.
I took the bike to the store (a 40-minute drive), and learned that "replacement" might not be an accurate word for our plan. A phone number was mentioned, but it was clear: keep the bike.
I talked with the manager about the brakes, the tires, and our general dissatisfaction with the product. He agreed to have his bike guys fix the brake and take a look at the tire.
“The assembly department is in another building. I’ll walk it over, and we’ll call you when it’s ready. Should be about 20 minutes,” the manager assured me.
I completed my Saturday re-stocking mission and 45 minutes later went to inquire at customer service. I saw Reagan’s bike and decided to save the inquiry and head home. Confidently, I walked the bike to my car. Assuming the rear brake was fixed, I decided to stop at a bicycle repair shop and have them install Slime. (Slime is a tire sealant, in case you’re like me and never heard of it. Every bike rider in the desert uses it, evidently.)
As I headed into the shop I noticed a missing pedal. I took a deep breath, assumed it fell off during the repair, and purchased a new set of pedals. I sprang for the extra-durable tire along with the Slime. Thirty-five dollars later I came out with a new and better bike for my son.
Within a day the handlebars failed. Chris kept tightening them but they kept loosening whenever Reagan would ride in the desert. Within a week Reagan wasn’t riding his new bike.
Two weeks later, as we contemplated the future of the bike, I received a call on my cell phone. It was one of the bike assemblers letting me know, “Your bike is ready.”
In denial and disbelief and without hesitation I said, “Thank you.”
Now what? How do I explain? What do I do with our investment of the new tire? What about the boy who came back for his missing-pedal bike? I can't handle our next meal, let alone this dilemma. Our best option, I rationalized, was to retrieve Reagan’s bike, switch out the tires, and return the “stolen” bike.
Chris picked up Reagan's bike and we followed the plan. Our neighbor helped us with the tires.
Chris drew the “return the bike” straw this week. As he walked the bike toward customer service he prepared his speech. When he arrived, the customer service line wound all the way around to the junior department. He saw a line of bikes in the "return" area and parked it next to the others. He was not guilt-free in doing this, but he was glad he didn't have to stand in line.
I share this story for four reasons:
1. To encourage others to read the fine print on replacement plans. It's Christmas, after all.
2. To celebrate the fact that our son, while still struggling with vestibular issues, is riding a bike.
3. To remind others to inspect a bike carefully before walking away with it.
4. To note the wisdom of the quote by Billy Wilder that "hindsight is always twenty-twenty."
Whether a bike with a broken pedal, or a house with toxic mold, everything is much clearer in retrospect.
Birthday Bears
We've celebrated two birthdays in a week. Ryan turned 19 on November 29th and Colin turned 10 on Saturday. Chris figured out we've celebrated 128 birthdays in the last 24 years.
Last year's birthdays were something to "survive." We tried to "get through" the day, trying our best to minimize the kids' inevitable disappointment. We were on the run, de-toxing, and unable to offer much more than a present and maybe a dinner out.
These two birthdays felt almost normal. Well, normal in light of our "new normal." We decorated and baked. Played hide and seek. Laughed. Shannon and I took Ryan to Best Buy to look at movies. Chris took Colin and a few of the kids to Build-a-Bear. Even Erin came home with a bear.
I think we'll title this picture "Re-Build a Life" Bears.
Read More...
Last year's birthdays were something to "survive." We tried to "get through" the day, trying our best to minimize the kids' inevitable disappointment. We were on the run, de-toxing, and unable to offer much more than a present and maybe a dinner out.
These two birthdays felt almost normal. Well, normal in light of our "new normal." We decorated and baked. Played hide and seek. Laughed. Shannon and I took Ryan to Best Buy to look at movies. Chris took Colin and a few of the kids to Build-a-Bear. Even Erin came home with a bear.
I think we'll title this picture "Re-Build a Life" Bears.
Thanksgiving Menu
I stand amazed.
We actually cooked a yeast-free, gluten-free, dairy-free, soy-free, nut-free, wheat-free, sugar-free, casein-free Thanksgiving dinner. And loved it!
We have come to realize just how intolerant our bodies have become to processed foods in any form. The more we gravitate to a raw/whole foods diet, the better we feel.
This is our menu from yesterday:
Turkey (free-range, no antibiotics or hormones) with oil and spices. Cavity filled with onions, garlic, and celery.
Mashed red potatoes. We can't tolerate the starch in Russet potatoes, so we opted to try twice-baked red potatoes. We boiled the potatoes, mashed them with chicken broth, added stir-fried onions, garlic, and green pepper, and baked them for 20 minutes. We had no leftovers.
Yams slow-cooked with adzuki beans, tomatoes, and vegetables in a vegetable broth.
Cranberry sauce. Made with freshly juiced apples and stevia.
Our courageous friends, who graciously gave up the traditional fare, brought green beans flavored with lemon pepper, and squash with nothing added.
Cindy blazed the dessert trail by making all sorts of gluten-free, dairy-free, sugar-free pumpkin pies. She even made gluten-free, sugar-free, dairy-free pumpkin pudding with coconut milk in place of evaporated milk.
Two Thanksgivings ago we ate at our neighbors' home. We were in the midst of our son's battle with vertigo. Megan carried him home that night.
Last Thanksgiving we ate at a restaurant. Headaches, depression, and stomach pains prevailed.
This year we played Outburst with friends.
We're getting there. One gluten-free pumpkin pie at a time.
Read More...
We actually cooked a yeast-free, gluten-free, dairy-free, soy-free, nut-free, wheat-free, sugar-free, casein-free Thanksgiving dinner. And loved it!
We have come to realize just how intolerant our bodies have become to processed foods in any form. The more we gravitate to a raw/whole foods diet, the better we feel.
This is our menu from yesterday:
Turkey (free-range, no antibiotics or hormones) with oil and spices. Cavity filled with onions, garlic, and celery.
Mashed red potatoes. We can't tolerate the starch in Russet potatoes, so we opted to try twice-baked red potatoes. We boiled the potatoes, mashed them with chicken broth, added stir-fried onions, garlic, and green pepper, and baked them for 20 minutes. We had no leftovers.
Yams slow-cooked with adzuki beans, tomatoes, and vegetables in a vegetable broth.
Cranberry sauce. Made with freshly juiced apples and stevia.
Our courageous friends, who graciously gave up the traditional fare, brought green beans flavored with lemon pepper, and squash with nothing added.
Cindy blazed the dessert trail by making all sorts of gluten-free, dairy-free, sugar-free pumpkin pies. She even made gluten-free, sugar-free, dairy-free pumpkin pudding with coconut milk in place of evaporated milk.
Two Thanksgivings ago we ate at our neighbors' home. We were in the midst of our son's battle with vertigo. Megan carried him home that night.
Last Thanksgiving we ate at a restaurant. Headaches, depression, and stomach pains prevailed.
This year we played Outburst with friends.
We're getting there. One gluten-free pumpkin pie at a time.
Shelter from the Storm
It's been a rough week at the "cactus compound and de-tox center" (the name for our rental home given by my husband). Lots of reminders of why we're in the middle of the desert away from civilization. A virus caught at the gym, a reaction to a perfume at a store, headaches from a used computer, etc.
I knew within a month of vacating our home that recovery would mean some major changes. I just didn't know how drastic. Our diet is so radically different I still can't believe my kids are satisfied with stir-fried brown rice and aduki beans as a main meal.
I really can't believe my kids are being taught at home by a tutor provided by the school district. I certainly would never have imagined that the highlight of my week would be my trip to the Farmer's Market around the corner.
That's our life now. For how long? I don't know. I do know that when we signed our 1-year lease in August we were committing to a season of voluntary "confinement" in order to heal from the vicious assault waged by toxic mold.
It's a risk for sure. One that I'm willing to take if there's any chance of giving my kids a second chance at life.
The Bible talks about the sparrow and assures me that I don't have to be afraid for our future, for I am "worth more than many sparrows."
I saw a sparrow not long ago. It was on our back porch during the final monsoon of the season.
We watched in silence. The bird stood so calmly. So confidently. So willingly.
Confident that the storm would pass. Certain that he was safest under our roof rather than the trees. Content to wait. Ready to fly.
I hate that my kids aren't at sleepovers and birthday parties. I miss our friends and community. I long for healthy interaction with the outside world.
But I'm confident that our bodies need this rest. Certain that our immune systems need the opportunity to heal. And I'm content to wait it out. Most days.
My greatest hope is that one day, sooner than I might expect, my children will fly again.
When they do, I hope and pray they witness the same signature we saw moments after our sparrow flew away.
(Photos by Kristen Fabry)
Read More...
I knew within a month of vacating our home that recovery would mean some major changes. I just didn't know how drastic. Our diet is so radically different I still can't believe my kids are satisfied with stir-fried brown rice and aduki beans as a main meal.
I really can't believe my kids are being taught at home by a tutor provided by the school district. I certainly would never have imagined that the highlight of my week would be my trip to the Farmer's Market around the corner.
That's our life now. For how long? I don't know. I do know that when we signed our 1-year lease in August we were committing to a season of voluntary "confinement" in order to heal from the vicious assault waged by toxic mold.
It's a risk for sure. One that I'm willing to take if there's any chance of giving my kids a second chance at life.
The Bible talks about the sparrow and assures me that I don't have to be afraid for our future, for I am "worth more than many sparrows."
I saw a sparrow not long ago. It was on our back porch during the final monsoon of the season.
We watched in silence. The bird stood so calmly. So confidently. So willingly. Confident that the storm would pass. Certain that he was safest under our roof rather than the trees. Content to wait. Ready to fly.
I hate that my kids aren't at sleepovers and birthday parties. I miss our friends and community. I long for healthy interaction with the outside world.
But I'm confident that our bodies need this rest. Certain that our immune systems need the opportunity to heal. And I'm content to wait it out. Most days.
My greatest hope is that one day, sooner than I might expect, my children will fly again.
When they do, I hope and pray they witness the same signature we saw moments after our sparrow flew away.
(Photos by Kristen Fabry)
