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October 17, 2005

Comments

liz

Glad you're back home and safe.Thinking of you everyday.

Anonymous

Welcome home. I think of you guys so often.xo Catherinep.s. Those pictures of the girls are too much--those little teeth and all that baby skin. My god!

Becca, Jason and Natalie Ketter

Thanks for making me cry!! It was my pleasure making your kids smile. I am so very sorry that we missed you on this hospital visit. Much love to the family from ours.

Phantom Scribbler

It was the picture of Frankie keeping Annika company in the hospital bed that made me cry. What sweet, sweet kids you have!Thanks for updating us. We're thinking of you everyday, too.

Beanie Baby

Yup, me too.It's wonderful that your girls are so close. Frankie seems to have a big, big heart.

trisha

Oh, Moreena! I think you all, too, every day. I wish it weren't the way it is for you guys.Frankie's role made me cry, too. What a sweetheart.As always, your writing is absolutely amazing. You really should write a book about your family.Love to you and yours.

Amanda M

No knock knock jokes...but Annika might like telling this one to the adults, because it's fun to make grown-ups smile: Q: Why did the chicken cross the playground?A: To get to the other slide...Groan. I know, but Katie liked telling it when she was Annika's age. Tell Frankie that she rocks. What an amazing little sister she is.I'm scared for Anni with the shunt - are there examples of it working well in other places? I was hoping Anni wouldn't have to go down that path. I hope it all goes really, really well. Love to all,Amanda, Aunt to Katie, age 7, BA, kasai

peripateticpolarbear

So sweet.

Yankee T

They are so adorable, and the way Frankie takes care of Annie warms my heart. They are so lovely, Moreena. You're on my mind.

allison

I just want to tell you that I think you and your family are very very brave, and that the smiles on your girls faces just beautiful. I've heard somewhere, as you probably have too, that being brave is not being not afraid, but proceeding in the face of the fear. And a book I recently read called Strong Women Strong Hearts, used the phrase, "Do it afraid". That's what you are all doing, and it's inspiring, to say the least.

Sarah

What little sweethearts. You all are always in my thoughts and prayers. Hope to see you again soon.

Miriam

I have been reading you for a while now, and it really aches to read about what you are going through, especially when you seem to handle it so well. Your children are so beautiful. I'm glad some fun was possible, and I wish your family the best of luck.

Robyn

I'm sorry the varices arn't getting any better with the sclerotherapy. I hope and pray that the shunt does exactly what it is supposed too.

Running2Ks

Welcome home again. My prayers are with you for a successful Rex shunt.I love that her sister gave her a nickname.I love that she loves Furby.Hugs to you and your family. When you come back to Chicago, call me. Seriously. The holidays need more "everyone" there!

Running2Ks

Knock knockWho's thereA confused cowA confused cow whoOink

Rowan

I know you wrote this a little while ago, but I have only just now had time to sit down to hours of blog reading.Your's is one I always MUST check. I feel a compulsion to see how everyone is doing. It is wonderful to see the girls smiling and happy. I feel for you for the photos that weren't taken, or simply were not published.It must be so hard to be facing surgery again so soon. I am glad to hear that her surgeon seems like such a kind soul. I've found it somehow easier when I can put a face and a personality on the person working with my girl.I am not a big pray-er, but you and yours will absolutely be on my mind and in my heart on 11/30, as well as the days following. I send you strength and peace.

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Falling Down, November 2004

  • Balloon in hand, my 4-year-old
    twirled across the kitchen floor,
    singing nonsense words
    in her own key.
    "It's my gift!" she declared
    to the world at large, which
    was really only me,
    sitting at the table. Enough
    twirling, and she lost
    her balance, tumbling
    to the floor in a theatrical
    slapstick of elbows and knees.

    She lay on her back
    for a few seconds,
    staring
    at the textured ceiling
    with the mysterious
    spaghetti sauce stain.
    Suddenly she
    began
    flapping her arms and legs
    there on the floor, as if to swish
    the imaginary snow
    into a snow angel.

    "Falling down is also a gift!" says she.

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