Ingredients:

2 cups cooked turkey, chopped
1 ½ cups cooked mixed vegetable
½ cup diced onion
½ cup diced celery
½ cup diced carrot
3 tbs. olive oil
2 tbs. arrowroot starch
2 cups GF chicken stock
½ tsp. kosher salt
1 tsp. ground black pepper
1 recipe your favorite GFCF cornbread mix (I used Bob’s Red Mill)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Prepare cornbread batter according to manufacturer’s instructions; set aside. In a large skillet, heat 1 tbs. olive oil over medium heat, then add diced raw veggies (onion, celery, and carrot) and sauté until vegetables begin to soften. Remove vegetables; then add remaining 2 tbs. oil to skillet. Heat oil, and add arrowroot starch. Using a wire whisk, mix to combine; slowly add chicken stock, whisking until chicken stock is mixed thoroughly. Add turkey, mixed veggies, and sautéed veggies to skillet and cook for about 5 minutes (until heated through). Remove from heat, then place mixture in 9-by-13 inch baking dish. Gently spread cornbread mixture over the turkey-vegetable filling. Bake uncovered for about 25-30 minutes, until cornbread topping is golden brown and firmly set.

Leave a comment to win a free copy of this week's book!

Just in time for the holidays, I Am Potential: Eight Lessons on Living, Loving and Reaching Your Dreams (Da Capo, 2008) is the heart-warming and inspirational book by self-advocate Patrick Henry Hughes, with Patrick John Hughes and Bryant Stamford.

You might have "met" the Hughes family on the ABC television show "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition" in February 2008, or you might have heard Patrick, a pianist, singer and trumpeter, perform at the Grand Ole Opry, the Kennedy Center, or the Orange Bowl. He and his father, Patrick John Hughes, are a two-person member of the University of Louisville Cardinal Marching Band.

Patrick Henry Hughes was born with a rare genetic disorder that had physical consequences–his arms could not straighten, his legs won't support his body weight, and he has no eyes. Patrick was also born with a gift for music, discovered when he began playing the piano as a 9-month-old.

I Am Potential is Patrick' life story, as told to Bryant Stamford and with additional sections written by Patrick's father. The book inlcudes black and white photographs and a resource section. Patrick's eight lessons for life are time-tested and universal, but even more important than the lessons themselves is Patrick, whose delightful spirit is full of optimism, good humor, and courage.

To learn more, you can visit the book's website. And I have 2 hardcover copies to share. If you're interested, leave your name in the comments and I'll chose a winner in a drawing next week.

Happy reading!

Jennifer Graf Groneberg reads books, writes books, and writes about books. She's the author of Road Map to Holland: How I Found My Way Through My Son's First Two Years with Down Syndrome (NAL/Pengiun, 2008), and her blog is Pinwheels.

"It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child."

~Pablo Picasso

Welcome to Magic Marker Monday! If you haven't heard about Magic Marker Monday yet, click here and then hurry right back…

Did you all have a great Thanksgiving? We did, and as you can see, we're moving right along to Christmas — some of us are anyway. If you believe the picture, it's "ALMOS KriSMiS" (almost Christmas) — complete with upside-down exclamation points.

According to this picture it's not going to be a merry one for everyone. If you'll notice, there are only purple presents with pink bows under the tree. And a baby brother that appears to be crying. I'm told it's because he's sad that there are no presents for him. He didn't get any because according to Jacqui, he's been "TOO NODDY!!!"

In contrast, our oldest child has apparently been an angelic princess. So much so that in the picture, she seems to have somehow charmed her Dad and I into caving and giving her the Christmas dalmatian puppy that she has been bugging us for since July. Jacqui has already named her (yes, we're told that she MUST be a girl dalmatian puppy) "Dardu".

At least she has her vivid imagination to fall back on. Should come in handy in a few weeks when 'Dardu' is a Christmas no show…

What about you? What has your little artist been up to lately?

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Find out more about Michelle
Read Michelle's weekly column
Meet Michelle here each Monday for Magic Marker Monday
Questions? Please feel free to email Michelle at childlif[at]gmail[dot]com or come and visit her at In The Life of a Child

I would have to explain that bone marrow transplant is a last ditch effort, that you don't do it unless nothing else works, you don't WANT to do bone marrow transplant.  There's nothing easy, simple or positive about it.

For kids with Leukemia, BMT isn't the standard first line treatment, it's what you do when that treatment has failed.  When the traditional chemotherapy doesn't work, and the cancer comes back, BMT becomes your best option.

To even GET to BMT, there is chemotherapy and intense radiation to destroy the existing bone marrow…leaving the body open to any and all infections.  The body's reaction to the transplant can be unpredictable…the process of engrafting - where the body begins to grow and develop new cells from the donated marrow - can be painful and is full of possible complications. The weakened immune system takes months, if not years, to full recover.

However, for the patients searching for donors, it is their best chance at life and those that cannot find a matching donor…waiting and hoping and praying for a match seems an eternity.

I will occasionally get asked about getting on the National Bone Marrow Registry.

And I can't ever tell someone to do or not to do something.

I just encourage them to do what their heart tells them is right.

My husband and I are both on the registry and I pray that someday I will be a match. No matter how painful (and I've had a bone marrow aspiration, it's not pleasant, I won't lie) or how inconvenient it might possibly be, I can never truly contemplate past the knowledge that I could be the one to stand between life and death for another person.

My donation could mean a long life for someone out there.

Your donation could mean a long life for my daughter or one of her valiant little friends.

This is Brooke Martin, a good friend of ours. She is 5 years old and her Leukemia came back after just a month out of treatment. She went in to the hospital this past Friday to begin her road to cord blood transplant because they could not find a matching bone marrow donor in time. Please pray for this sweet girl.

Do you see why it's never even a question for me?

There is a lot to know about becoming a potential donor and I would encourage you to:

1. read as much about it as you possibly can to make sure you know what your responsibilities as a bone marrow donor would include

2. be prepared to donate for anyone, not just in honor of the one person who might be on your heart. I've heard from the blood services reps that they have made recipient/donor matches only to have the donor say no because they were only donating for a specific person.

3. know there here is a $52 cost for the registration process, but there are many bone marrow drives where the testing is provided free of charge through the sponsorship of a company or person.  You can contact any blood services group in your local area to find out when the next sponsored bone marrow drive is happening and make it a point to attend.

4. consider if health reasons keep you from qualifying as a bone marrow donor, you may still qualify to donate blood or platelets or stem cells…don't give up, there are always ways you can give.  Even if giving would be to donate time to a blood drive and make it easier for others to register.

Would you save a life if you could?  What's stopping you?

You can also find me at Hope4Peyton, The Mayhew Review and Twitter, you should come by, it's nice…we have cookies! Feel free to email me at Anissa.Mayhew (at) gmail (dot )com.

Tell me a little about yourself and your family.

My husband and I have four children, and we live (as was recently revealed on my blog) in Houston, TX. My daughters are 9 and almost 8, and my sons are 5 and almost 3. We are a Modern Orthodox Jewish family, which is pretty readily apparent from my writing.

Tell me more about D's disabilities. Did you know when he was born that he had disabilities? If not, how did you feel when you discovered it?

D. has Sotos syndrome, a rare genetic overgrowth syndrome. An overgrowth syndrome means that he is larger than he should be for his age, so at 5 years old, he's about the same height as my 9-year-old and wears size 10-12 clothes.

A common mistake people make is to confuse genetic with hereditary. D. didn't inherit this syndrome from us; his DNA mutated at conception. That mutation gives him his size and also gives him many developmental delays (most prominently speech and social delays), low muscle tone, and a higher risk for other medical problems including certain tumors and seizures.

D. was diagnosed just after he turned two years old, when our youngest son was just three weeks old, and we were devastated. The diagnosis with it carried such a feeling of permanence. It was terrifying. We've come a long way in three years.

You blog a lot about your D's issues, and that is so valuable to me and I’m sure, to others that read your blog. How did you go about making the decision to blog about him? What do you personally get out of blogging about him and his issues?

I came home from the appointment when D. got his diagnosis, and I needed to do something. I am a professional writer, so writing is how I deal with most things in my life. I had blogged in the past for family and friends, but this time I needed a place where I could say things I didn't necessarily want to share with those people. So I started a new blog that day.

Blogging about D., particularly in a space that feels "safe," is a way to get the bad stuff out so that I can function like a normal person in the world most of the rest of the time. On the dark days, it keeps me sane. I also hope that my blog is useful for other parents getting a diagnosis of Sotos syndrome and not knowing what to expect or where to go. I hope I'm a resource.

How have D's disabilities affected you as a person and as a mother? What did you do right? What do you wish you had done differently?

D's disabilities have changed everything about me. Everything. I am a fundamentally different person from who I was before. What did I do right? Depends on the day. Sometimes I feel great about our choices and what we do. Other times I wish I had done everything differently.

Specifically, I desperately wish I had gotten D. into a true special needs program from age 2 or 3. But I didn't, and looking back won't change anything. We have to move forward from where we are.

What would you like other parents to know?

I think it's critical to recognize that you need help to raise a child with special needs. No one can do it alone, so accept help when it's offered. But with that, bear in mind that NO ONE cares about your kid as much as you do. That is a terribly painful thing to realize, but it is sadly true.

Is there anything else you would like to share?

One of the things that's been hardest for me to acknowledge is that you can love your child with every fiber of your being and still yearn for a different reality. Once you accept your own humanity that way, you can feel a lot better about yourself.

Well said, WriterGrrl, well said…

Deborah can be found writing here at 5MFSN every Sunday and Wednesday, and can also be found at Pipecleaner Dreams.

I’ve really enjoyed being November’s guest poster each Friday and appreciate Tammy giving me the opportunity to do so. I hope I was able to give you a small glimpse into our world since Samuel’s near drowning 3 years ago.

I just want to leave you today with a few thoughts. One of the biggest things I have learned from our experiences with Samuel is that although many of us do our very best to empathize with those around us, no one can really and truly understand another person’s situation unless they, themselves, have lived through it. I know what it’s like to have a near drown child. But I have no idea what it would be like to have a child with a different disability or even what it would be like to have a child with a trach or other (more intense) needs than my son’s. And I have no idea what it would be like to loose a child. I don’t think I ever understood that before. And I think it made me much more judgmental of others. There is simply no way I can look at another’s life and make any sort of judgment call about it. I simply cannot know all that goes on behind the scenes or even in their hearts. And I have grown to appreciate that fact.

However, I have also found that there ARE many out there who are in very similar situations as mine. And I am so grateful for them in my life. That is one of the things that is so wonderful about 5 Minutes for Special Needs. It is a place for parents who are similar to gather and share their experiences with each other do their best to empathize with each other.

Here are a few of the very best resources I have found in my journey with Samuel. These resources are filled with parents who also have near drown children and they have been a lifeline to me:

Yahoo Chat Group – parentsofneardrowns

www.hugsfoundation.org

www.hugs4ndc.com

I also have a list of resources on Samuel’s website that I have found very helpful:

http://samuelsmiracle.com/resources/

This journey is one that we have just begun and who knows where it will lead us. It has been a difficult journey and I know that it will continue to always feel overwhelming. But I hope that no matter what, I can always have it in me to find the good in any way I can and to bring benefit from the trials we have been called to endure. And I hope that I will always have good friends and family along the way to support us.

Thanks for sharing your time with us. I hope maybe I have given you a glimpse of our little Samuel. He is certainly a light in our life (even if he’s a little pest at times)!

Teresa
www.samuelsmiracle.com

Ken and I stood, each with an arm around the others' waist. We watched as our two children ran tumbling, tripping, giggling through the enormous field of tangled vines and cumbrous golden gourds. Days like this. They had been a long time coming for our family.

Kyle happily slapped the dusty rind of one of the titian giants lying near our feet while Jacqui raced through the field, plucking pink flowers during her gleeful search for the perfect pumpkin.

But Ken and I just stood there. Watching. Living. Soaking the moment into our souls, knowing the priceless nature of it. I looked up at Ken with a watery smile and he kissed the top of my head and hugged me tighter.

It wasn't so very long ago that things were much different. Days when we saw nothing but the inside of four small walls of a hospital room. A tiny baby girl on a ventilator. Through her hospital window, I had seen the green leaves of summer turn color and begin twirling their way to the ground, one by one — and I feared in my heart she would join them. It was October. Jacqui's first October and oh, how I prayed not her last!

Ken and I would stand, an arm around each others' waist as we watched her fight for her life in her tiny stainless steel crib. Unable to hold her. Helpless to do anything but watch. Watch and pray. "Tell me it will be different someday," I would beg him through tears. "Tell me you believe we will get through this. I can't make myself believe it on my own."

He would kiss me on the top of the head, hug me tighter, and whisper in my ear, "It will be different some day. We will get through this. All three of us."

And now there are four. Four of us in our precious little family. All outside on a beautiful day in October doing things that I once feared would never be more than elusive dreams slipping through our fingertips.

Today there is laughter — lots of laughter. Laughter all the sweeter because it was purchased with tears. As we stood watching, Ken leaned down and whispered in my ear, "We made it."

I hugged him tighter and brushed away hot, joyful tears, my heart clicking snapshots of every precious frame of the only two pumpkins in the patch that mattered to me. We did make it. And I am so very, very, very thankful that we made it together.

This post was originally titled entitled Pumpkin Patch Pastorale and written for In The Life of a Child in November of 2007.

Find out more about Michelle
Read Michelle's weekly column
Meet Michelle here each Monday for Magic Marker Monday
Questions? Please feel free to email Michelle at childlif[at]gmail[dot]com or come and visit her at In The Life of a Child

So then I started thinking about last Thanksgiving. In many ways, this year won't really be a lot different from last year, and that is one of the things I am very thankful for. We will be celebrating the holiday with my hubby's family again, although there will be a couple more at the kids' table and a few more adults as well:

The kids will surely enjoy having two days to play all sorts of games together, although it certainly won't be this warm:

And I don't think the older cousins' house has as many dress-up clothes as the younger cousins' house, so we may not have a visit from Spiderman and his bevy of beauties:

All in all, I am looking forward to seeing the changes another year has brought and spending time to celebrate family traditions and give thanks for the many blessings we enjoy. And it doesn't hurt that there's a new Bond movie to go see this year.

Trish can be found writing here at 5MFSN every Friday in addition to hosting Try This Tuesday. You can also find Trish at her blog, Another Piece of the Puzzle.

We don't celebrate Thanksgiving in Australia.

There is no gathered family, no holiday celebration, no dinner with all the trimmings.

In Australia it is just any other day, week, month of the year.

I often wonder why we don't have a celebration like it, a time to be truly thankful.

Of course, the tradition of thanksgiving started for a reason that Australian's have little knowledge about but to me, it seems now, it is a time to appreciate all that you have.

We are floating in unchartered waters at the moment. Ivy's illness has been complicated by the possibility of a serious lung disease.

Everything is up in the air.

I was thinking today though that I can celebrate Thanksgiving in my own way.

I can celebrate by giving thanks

and there is much to be thankful for.

For my beautiful children and my amazing husband. They have handled this year with a grace that I am proud and in awe of.

For family and friends

in real life and online.

Without them, I don't think I would be as sane as I am.

For the doctors and nurses who have been there and seen us through some really terrible times this year.

For all of the good times we have had, every smile and laugh.

For the people who donate blood and for the people who make the Intragam, the medication that has kept Ivy out of hospital now for eight weeks.

For the fact that Ivy will celebrate her third birthday this Sunday.

For life, however it comes.

I am thankful.

What are you thankful for?

Also blogging about life with seven little Australians at Three Ring Circus

On that note, I’m putting down my apron (for the moment) and am reflecting on some of the things I am thankful for:

My children (for the joy they bring to me; and for all they teach me about being a parent)

My husband (for love and support – even when I have meltdowns)

For being back in school (because dreams are something we should never let go of)

For friends both old and new (including everyone at 5 Minutes for Special Needs)

I encourage everyone to do the same — take a few minutes to think about what you’re thankful for — and feel free to share some of your own reflections with us. Post a comment here or email me at flamencomom@gmail.com. Thank you and have a great holiday!