With 2009 safely behind us, my son asked me what I was going to name this year. I had declared last year "The Year of Good Enough.

It was a very difficult year in a number of ways, and since I was in survival mode at all times, things simply couldn't be perfect. Our meals weren't always square, the house wasn't usually clean, and my toenails never, ever, not ONCE got painted even though I bared them nakedly all summer.

But we survived. We made it through 2009. I almost printed us T-shirts. The year didn't end quite so well. The week before Christmas the dishwasher broke, the windshield in the minivan cracked, the microwave oven, washing machine, and grill all died, and I melted a plastic cutting board on the stove burner, rendering it unusable. 2010 isn't starting out so well. With only one month behind us, we have run out of money, are using a microwave oven from 1986 that is probably radiating us, and we've both needed chiropractic adjustments already. So what are we going to call 2010? "How about the year where we don't give a hoot?" my husband suggested. But I have another idea. I'm declaring 2010 The Year of Fun. And I've started off with a bang. When you are at the bottom of the trenches anyway, even a small ounce of fun can go a long way. After six weeks on a very strict elimination diet, my allergist and nutritionist asked me what food I wanted back first. "Brownies," I said.

Technically, that was more than one food because I had to (on separate days) reintroduce milk, eggs, chocolate and sugar before I could "do" brownies. But the day came, and I had my brownie with a tall glass of milk right before Christmas. No rash, no hives, and no epi-pen needed. So 2010 came. Amidst the declarations that sugar lowers your immune system and knowing that I was surrounded by sick kids, I threw together a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies the other day, just for the fun of it. And I ate them. I went shopping at Michaels. Anaphylactic to cinnamon, and knowing full well that they have those blasted cinnamon pinecones wafting through the store, I plowed through the doorway, holding my breath until I get inside. "If I die, I die," I declared, because darn it, I wanted scrapbooking materials. My quest was accomplished. I survived - apparently the pine cones were only at the front door. Wheee! Then the ultimate chance for fun came. My girlfriend invited us to her birthday party at the movie theater. She had reserved seating, right in the middle of the theater for a viewing of Avatar in IMAX, digital, HD, 3-D whatever. It was supposed to be a cinematic experience you'd never forget. I am NOT a cinematic experience type of woman. I get queasy watching the wind blow the drapes back and forth. But I reminded myself, this is The Year of Fun, so I must go even if it kills me. So there I went, smuggling my hypoallergenic popcorn in past the "no outside food allowed" signs, and settling myself in a middle row seat. I put on my funky 3-D glasses and began to worry about the small children a few rows in front of me. Would they be frightened? What was their mother thinking? But then the movie started and OH MY GOSH was it COOL!! I felt like I was there, in the jungle, soaring above the trees on a dragon/bird creature of some sort, dodging bullets as they came RIGHT AT MY FACE, and yes, even chanting with the aliens as glowing spiritual seed thingies fell all around me in an iridescent light that I felt I could reach out and touch. When I left the theater, partially deaf from the exploding bombs, I reminded myself that THIS is indeed The Year of Fun. And my husband and I hurried off to join the others at a restaurant I couldn't eat at. As I pulled out my dry, homemade gluten-free, fun-free sandwich and watched them wash down burgers and onion rings with strawberry margaritas, topped off with dessert, I relaxed back into the booth and laughed with my friends. No, all is not well with my world. Not nearly. And I don't expect life to get any easier. But in the midst of it all, I am okay. All joking aside, I have made a living out of sharing with people "How I Stay Sweet When Life Turns Sour". God, it seems, gives me lots of practice in that. More than I want. But God says, "I have come that they might have life, and have it more abundantly" (John 10:10b revised). If I get up in the morning and only have one good hour before I crash, I am going to pack every once of fun I can into that hour. I intend to live every day that I can, every moment, to the fullest. That is my goal for 2010: The Year of Fun. Pamela Gossiaux is the author of Why Is There A Lemon In My Fruit Salad - How To Stay Sweet When Life Turns Sour. She is also a motivational and inspirational speaker. E-mail Pam or sign up for her writer's workshop.