Allie had a relatively long TIA today. It lasted 4 1/2 hours.  This is quite long considering a typical tia lasts about 5 minutes or so.  She started complaining of a headache, so I went to her school and I could tell she was having a TIA. Slurred speech, slow response time, difficulty following simple 2 step directions.  We did trick or treat last night but we were home by 8.  Still, this could have been the culprit.  Because Allie is not well tonight, I am again missing out an awesome opportunity to watch my son.  One of the football team captains at school was reading my book.  He saw in there that Brennan had Hashimoto's thyroid disorder and that his extreme short stature had made it impossible to ever play football.  He came to me and asked, if it was okay with the coaches, could Brennan come out with them and participate in the coin toss.  He said they would get him a jersey and everything.  Of course Brennan is so excited about this, as am I.  Donald is getting to go and get to watch this event, but I must stay home with my sick baby. It is a mother's duty. I will say this, when the captain of the football team comes up with such an unselfish and gracious act of kindness, it brings me to tears. What an amazing gift he has given my son. What an amazing man this boy will become.  He inspires me. I am privileged to be one of his teachers.  I will never forget him and what he did for Brennan.

I have a whopping 3 softback books left.  I have a family reunion tomorrow and I am praying that only 3 family members will want one - yeah like that is going to happen.  At any rate, the book is out and everyone who has read it has been blessed by it.  That was and continues to be my prayer.  There were years when I was tormented by the illness of my daughter, the challenges that my other three children faced.  I have to say, it was almost impossible to balance my ability to be an advocate with my ability to be polite and civil to those who were not doing right by my children.  It is a regret that I have that I could not balance it better.  I was under a great deal of stress, day in and day out.  I lived with the strokes, the fights, the autism, the everyday struggles that my children were fighting.  I lived and continue to live like that mama bear that rears up when something or someone tries to threaten their ability to be successful.  It has come to my attention that in the process of advocating for my children I have hurt the feelings of people, I had no intention of hurting.  I wasn't working "against" them, I was working "for" my children.  At any rate, it is with a heavy heart that I write this for these individuals refuse to have anything to do with the book.  They regard it as negative, an attack, a betrayal.  I wrote it to be a blessing, uplifting, inspiring, intended to bring one closer to God, strengthen their faith.  I wrote it to bring compassion to those who do not have children with special needs and for those who do to relate to us, to know they are not alone.  I pray with all of my heart, that the individuals who refuse to even open a page, who refuse the blessing, will have their heart softened.  That those individuals will find compassion for someone who was struggling through a time that was horrific at best.  That they would pick up the book and read it, read it and realize it's intent is purely positive, inspirational and spiritual in nature.  I pray this with all of my heart.  I would hate to think they missed out on this blessing that God has given to me to share with them.

The book signings are over and I have about 40 books left.  I have several friends who still want one from me, it is just trying to get it to them that is problematic. I have no doubt, that God has been glorified through the book.  Every person who has read it has been touched by it and it has strengthened their faith in God.  It is funny, when I was pregnant with the girls, and wasn't completely sure they were going to make it (they had a 20% chance), I bargained with God. Oh yeah, like you've never done that. LOL. Anyway, I promised him that if he allowed me to hold them, even for only a little while, that I would tell the story to everyone I know so that He would be glorified.  After they were born, and I had gotten to hold them, I began to write a short synopsis about my story.  A testimony that I was hoping Pastor Ray would let me tell at church.  This would fulfill my promise to God. Ha, now that is a funny one.  I never did get a chance to tell the short story to the congregation, instead, God had in mind for me to write a book. A book that would reach people all over the country and would give Him the glory for all of my many blessings.  Had you told me then that I would ever write a book, I would have laughed hysterically and told you that you were CRAZY.  God's plans are often more than we could have ever imagined for ourselves.  We need only to follow where He leads us.

While enjoying Fall Break, I have managed to fit in three book signings.  I am nervous. What if no one shows up, what if a lot of people show up. What if I don't sell any books, what if I sell out and don't have enough. Good grief. It is funny, when I wrote it, I honestly had no idea that people would love it so much.  Now I find myself worried, that not enough people will get a chance to read it and be blessed by it.  I need a press release, I call the publisher and they say sure, no problem, that will be 500.00.  So I write my own - yeah right - that's gonna fly. I contact Mardel, Barnes and Noble - apparently it takes an act of congress to get the book into their stores.  I bet the publisher could work it out for a fee.  Worry, nervous, grief . . . . . . . . . . NOT at all what this is about.  I distinctly remember writing it and thinking if it just blesses one person, it will be worth the publishing fees.  I remember telling the marketing person that I wasn't worried about marketing the book, that it was God's idea that I write it and God will make sure it gets to the people who need it.  Where did that confidence go? Why am I worried about it.  Seriously, I am letting it go.  I am giving it to Him.  After I sell the last of the 75 books I have left, I will have almost paid myself back for the publishing costs.  That in itself is way beyond what I ever thought would happen.  It has never been my book, it was never my story, it was His story.  The story of God putting His loving arms around me and comforting me through times that were at best horrific.  Thank you God for making me an instrument for You.

I find myself delivering my books to friends all over Claremore and Inola.  I received all 295 of my books and Allie and I started signing them.  Actually, it was quite fun as Emma, Brennan and Adam joined in the signing fun as well.  It wasn't all fun and games though - between the signings they had to argue about how many pages were devoted to each one of them and who should sign where and there was Allie in the middle of all of it shouting, "its my book - you all can't sign it."  Its the fighting.  I know my sister and I fought terrible and my husband and his brother used to hit each other with 2x4s and chase each other with chain saws, but it isn't at all what I expected when I became a mother.  Why not? I mean, we fought as kids, why wouldn't mine fight.  Well they do, like the dickens.  Brennan fights with Adam, Adam fights with Brennan, Adam also fights with Emma, and Brennan fights with Emma, Allie and Adam fight as well and Emma and Allie fight sometimes.  The boys, 14 and 11 are able to inflict damage on each other (and my home.)  Things are thrown, fists fly and things break.  All the while, I am yelling, stop it please stop fighting.  It is no use.  I have run out of ideas.  I supposed it is normal, the fighting. . . . . . but lately it just seems like it is all the time.  There just isn't enough of me to go around.  A lot of the times, they are fighting over me.  Who will sit by mom at the restaurant, whose side mom always takes, who mom loves best . . . . . .  It is enough to make a good momma go CRAZY.  My sister and I are the best of friends now so maybe . . . .  . . . maybe there is hope.

I ordered copies of my book today "Gifts of Grace".  Funny thing, I don't think I have told you how the book came to be.  I speak, once a year in my former Home Economics Teacher's classroom.  The topics range from specific crazy stories about my children to the seriousness of being a parent of children with special needs.  At the end of each talk, my former teacher, Mrs. Spurlock, would say "you really should write a book".  I would laugh and say "yeah right, like I have time for that."  Brennan was up for confirmation at our church and Miss Frances told the parents that if you wanted to request a specific mentor for your child, you could . . . . OR, you could allow God to choose your child's mentor.  I called her and told her that I wanted God to choose Brennan's mentor for confirmation.  God gave us Brent Youngs.  Half-way into Brennan's confirmation year, Brent gave me a copy of his book "Perfect Timing" to read.  I had no idea, he was a published author.  After Brennan was confirmed, I went to Brent after church one day and asked him if he would be interested in helping me write my book.  He said, "that's funny, I was just getting ready to ask you if I could help you write a book."  At any rate, not only did God choose a perfect mentor for Brennan, but he put Brent in our lives at a time when I was ready to put pen to paper (hands to keyboard) and write our story.  Brent was instrumental in rewriting, editing, and perfecting our story into something that reflects God's infinite grace and love in our lives.  And so, now we have "Gifts of Grace".  It is available through the Westbow Press website, but will soon be available everywhere. I hope everyone enjoys God's book "Gifts of Grace."

Allie just finished her first full week of school.  She is tired, but was still able to find time on a Saturday to enjoy a playdate with a friend.  She is snuggled up beside me, resting.  I lean over because she has the faint smell of the hospital still on her head, where the sutures are. Ugh, I hate that smell, but I go back for more, hoping I can smell her shampoo over the smell from the healing suture line on her head.  Her hair covers it so well that no one at school knows "which twin" had the surgery, they have to ask.  Righty, what we call her weak hand/arm, is becoming weaker and she is beginning to ignore it more for some reason.  Her therapists both at school and privately have noticed.  They are discussing a hand splint, but are trying to decide which would be best.  She wears her "heels" to school and her PT tells her to stop wearing them because they are bad for her.  They are bad for her, I mean, she already toe walks and her achilles tendon have shrunk, making it difficult for her to pull her toes up toward her shin. She decides flip-flops are a better choice for now than tennis shoes, although tennis shoes are actually the best choice.  I get that, I do, but how do I say no when all she wants is a pair of heels like her sister has.  Well, as you can tell, I don't say no.  I get them for her and just have her wear them to church or something.  She gets it, heels are bad for her, tennis shoes are best . . . . . . but she picks the flip-flops.  A nice happy medium, a middle-ground, LIFE without too much restriction and LIFE without too much risk.  Everyday, it is a fine line that we walk.  Everyday . . . . . . .