March 11

Fourteen years ago, I labored in the early morning hours with my first childbirth. It wasn't the stereotypical happy event in a young woman's life, because I was not going to be keeping my child. I was unmarried, fresh out of college and had no direction.

An old family friend, Gay, counseled me during this time and her help guided me to my daughter's adoptive mother, Pam. Pam and I exchanged letters and details of our lives during those pregnant months. When she told me the west coast was her home, I described how much I loved beachcombing and that I had recently started a collection of Japanese fishing floats.

A few weeks before my daughter was born, a box arrived in the mail. Inside was the largest float I had ever seen, a gift from Pam. It wasn't until I arrived home after giving birth, my arms, body and heart empty, that I realized the float was the same size my belly had been. I was also acutely aware that its insides were only air.

But air floats. Today, it is displayed in my living room. Most guests are unaware of its significance. But I know and I remember.

I'm grateful for Pam and Gay, and for that period of my life, however painful. Happy Birthday, sweet Megan!

March 10

Each Friday, from 5 to 6 p.m., a group of citizens form a line in front of the Mormon Tabernacle downtown, holding flags and signs promoting peace and a quick end to the war in Iraq. They endure insults and ignorance and still keep their faithful vigil.

I'm thankful for those of us with strong convictions and the bravery to see our dreams come true.

March 9

Somehow, I ended up with 10 Weight Watcher points still in my coffers at the end of the day. For those unfamiliar with WW jargon, let's just confirm that's A LOT of points. And you are required to eat them, you don't have a choice.

I'm grateful for my point windfall because I spent them on an entire cup of french vanilla ice cream (the good, fat-filled kind) with a whole two tablespoons of chocolate syrup drizzled over the top.

I thought I'd died and gone to heaven.

March 8

Tonight, the snow stayed away and we were able to see the final demonstration of the Radkid's program.

Each kid had to face down a giant of man in red padding who was trying his best to carry them off. Their "guardian angel" would yell out memorized moves ("Upper left jab! Right knee kick!") to keep the children focused.

As a parent on the sidelines, I admit to some anxiety as I watched the kids face off the abductor. I'm grateful, though, that they had the training and were afforded a simulation with a human instead of a punching bag. Their lack of control of their environment pounded the message home. I sincerely hope that none of them ever have to face off an attacker in the real world.

March 7

Homework can often be a challenge in the evenings. You're already tired, trying to unwind, just leave me alone and let me go tune into CNN (or some mindless drama) already. But the responsible, "parental" thing to do is crack the whip and make those child units finish their homework.

When the homework involves reading or spelling, the kitchen table dynamics are muted and it is usually completed without much fuss. But when the homework is MATH homework, well then, all bets are off. Math homework can sour even the nicest evening.

But tonight, glory be, Luke completed his math homework promptly and without argument. Even more amazing, it involved story problems with multiplication AND division. I'm grateful for this uncharacteristic occurrence and hope it'll happen again soon.

March 6

Flylady brought along her flychildren and shaped up Luke and Ruth's rooms this weekend. We hadn't seen the carpet in years. It's still blue-gray.

I'm grateful that the kids have been keeping their respective spaces "fly-ladied" for the third night in a row. It's certainly much nicer to give good-night kisses without having to dodge sharp-cornered Legos.

March 5

Rehearsals for Almost Broadway and the Multicultural Messiah have started in earnest.

Tonight I'm grateful the day is over, and that my pillow is so soft.