Over at the National Catholic Register Today

I have a piece over at the Register, discussing my lack of the art of the deal, and proof that LOVE trumps all.   Go, enjoy.  I promise, you'll laugh, you'll enjoy, and you'll probably call me to offer me a chance at timeshares or buying the Brooklyn Bridge.  

Prayer Request

Imagine every night surrendering your child at the foot of the cross.  I have a good friend that does that and so I've told her she's a closet Catholic. For nine years, she has attached her daughter to respirators every evening as part of kissing good night.

Having Ondine's Curse, the autonomic functions like breathing and heart beating can and do stop when she falls asleep. The pacers and respirator keep her alive.  The readings of the past few weeks about "Staying Awake!" take on a whole new meaning when one considers the level of vigilance required by my friend and her family and that of the 200 or so families alive at this point in the US that must deal with this difficult condition.  They must be forever alert.

My friend handles this with a diamond type faith, scathing sense of humor and absolute force of will.  She can't have an off night or a tired night or a I'd like to slum it night.  There are days when I put them to bed late, when I don't read stories, I don't do the double check for teeth brushing, when I phone it in.  There are nights when I fall asleep on the job.  She jabs me at times, "I used to be impressed with you, but now that there are the Duggars, well, you're just not up to the job.  Maybe if you had twins." 

Many of you know the story of her coming to see Paul at the hospital. I was in a deep funk keeping vigil over him at Children's.  We didn't know when the operation would be, but heart surgery was coming and I was scared.   She'd brought me hot chocolate from Starbucks.  Up to this point, she'd not seen my son.   Looking at him attached to the wires and monitors, she said, "Wow! He's Down Syndrome Hot!" and I spewed hot cocoa.  It was the first hard laugh since his birth and it lifted the worry in a way all the assurances of Children's doctors and nurses hadn't. 

Now, her daughter is struggling and has needed oxygen since Thursday.  Her mother cannot get her off the machines.  Shelley is normally pretty relaxed about managing this condition.  She handles the visits to the ICU the way the rest of us deal with colds, she just manages.  For her to even say that she's worried means the rest of us should pray. 

So I'm asking all of you to ask for a healing for Zoe for Christmas.  They are a beautiful family though I've only given you a snap shot of the mother.  Thank you.

Twelve Days of Adkins

Reflections on My ongoing Adkins Experience. A Dieter's Diary and attempt to twist reality to fit a theme...more or less.

Day 1 On the first day of Adkins, here's what I had to eat...well, it wasn't a partridge in a pear tree, but it was chicken and salad. By the end of the day, I’m snappish, Husband asks about biology. Snarl “No” and go to fume while munching a piece of cheddar. I feel stale already.

Day 2 Huzzah, I lost three pounds. A quick calculation and I’ll be at my desired weight at current course and speed in ten days… Bring on those two turtle doves! Suddenly, No Carb conversion diet seems completely reasonable and of course I’ll stick with it.

Day 3 What gives? I only lost a pound? Did I eat any carbs yesterday? Okay, I forgot and drank six ounces of milk but that’s not like seriously going to keep me from losing is it? That’s so unfair. Resolve to stick with it, after all, I’m on day 3 and I’ve lost four, so I’m one up on the day. Three French hens please. Begin to see how ubiquitous carbo snacks have become in everyday life. I can’t buy a stamp without passing a candy bar!

Day 4 Now taking to weighing twice a day. Did I lose weight yet? Did I lose weight yet? Severe frustration at self for accidentally popping a strawberry, I actually spit it out. Baked four calling birds yesterday to allow for easy snacks tomorrow. Wonder if it is worth it.

Day 5 Five pounds are gone! But the days of meats greens…meat…greens…switching to seafood to have variety. Had to order at the golden arches today...that was...difficult. Desperately want to break a new barrier but have stopped talking about diet for fear someone will ask “How much did you lose?” and begin telling me how they dropped 25 the first week. Lost one more pound, somehow feel cheated.

Day 6 I miss orange juice. Very tired of the six geese a laying eggs for breakfast. Reflect on reality that if I had lost one pound each day, I would have been far more satisfied with the diet than losing three, one and then nothing and then one again. Also worry about catching scurvy. Consider branding the diet man a hack, but afraid to stop for fear five pounds are just waiting to hop back on my hips.

Day 7 Breath smells faintly of cheese even after brushing. Burps have a meaty aftertaste. Ate the swimming swans today..well not really, but man oh man am I sick of chicken and tuna salad. Staring longingly at children’s lunches, a carb fest of refined sugar –an apple, white bread peanut butter and jelly sandwich and chocolate milk. Begin trolling diet aisles for the pseudo chocolate bars that will substitute for Chocolate. Can’t find any that fit in the diet in this part of the regimen. Nuts. I’m eating nuts. If you are what you eat…

Day 8 Okay. Seem to have plateaued diet wise. Now considering the radical concept of going to the gym. I even drove there. The gym had eight women from the La Leche league holding a get in shape membership drive for post partum women. I had actually packed gym clothes in a tote and put them in the back of the car, complete with walkman, but I didn't want to run the gauntlet with my crew toting bottles. Went home and did push ups.

Day 9 Considering switching to South beach. Diet Coke isn't even sending me anymore. Even forbidden grapefruit looks so good, it’s scary. Lost one pound. Becoming annoyed. This diet feels dial up, not broadband. Have trained family to squawk if I weaken, so nine pipers pipe up if I try to cheat.

Day 10 Have decided Low Carb plans are Man diets. Begin promising God to stick to exercise regimen if someone will give me half a blueberry. What’s for breakfast? Eggs. What’s for lunch? Salad and Meat. What’s for dinner, Salad and More Meat. Log on to website for testimonials to keep me in lockstep with the routine. Ten emails later, I'm sufficiently bolstered to march on.

Day 11 Reflecting on the diet rules and their implications. What exactly is a carb? I mean how is it defined –how are foods divided such that one can portion a candy bar in small pieces and get only seven carbs as versus the entire 17 in the goodie. How many carbs in an onz of milk? Some french bread? Banannas? Maple Syrup? Chocolate Five Star Bars? Ice Cream? Pasta Alfredo? Salt and Vinegar Chips, cold cereal for crying out loud! Not that I’m considering eating any of these things. They’re for a friend. This lady's dancing with the idea of reintroducing carbs, but my brain has already figured out how I could eat the bad stuff...nah nah nah...can't hear me..not listening...going to stay on the diet...where's my cheese stick. I love cheese sticks....and shrimp coctail at ten in the morning...wondering if we can fiscally afford to keep me on a diet.

Day 12 What?
It's just steak for breakfast.
I couldn't take one more day of eggs. No I will not share.

You guys get to eat pancakes and toast and bagels and oatmeal and cantelope and blackberries, milk, doughnuts and apple juice.

I am offered every possible carb sin, as half the family still likes the idea of being food police, and the other half is ready to sell out for a few pieces of sirloin. There are Lords a leaping as a I cut up my breakfast and portion it out to the assorted heathens. Pieces of appeasement to achieve morning peace. Guess I'll have some more eggs.

There is a dietary mutiny afoot.
Shouldn't have lorded that fact over them.(Sigh).

I made it.
I'm not sure what was harder, sticking to the diet or sticking all of this into my preselected format.

Tune in next time when I try once more to mix two or even three improbable things, from History, Philosophy, English Literature and domestic family life, politics and religion, all for the sole purpose of creating humor and insight.