...And in the air, the fireflies, our only light in paradise. We'll show the world that they were wrong, and teach them all to sing along; singing Amen I, I'm alive. Amen I, I'm alive...

- Nickelback, If Everyone Cared

For All The Right Reasons Album

And I'm singing Aaa-ayyy-men, I'm alive!

William Leonidas November 12th, 2009
My only regret is that I cried so many tears while I waited for you.

"...I'll try ~ but it's so hard to believe. I'll try ~ but I can't see what you see. I'll try and try to understand the distance between the love I feel ~ the thing I fear ~ and every single dream. I can finally see it. Now I have to believe all those precious stories. All the world is made of faith ~ and trust ~ and pixie dust. So I'll try ~ because I finally believe. I'll try ~ because I can see what you see. I'll try, I'll try ~ to fly..."

Jonatha Brooke "I'll try"

Fear thou not, for I am with thee; be not dismayed, for I am thy God; I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness. Isaiah 41:10

Now the word of the Lord came to me saying, "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you..." Jeremiah 1:4-5

For Thou didst form my inward parts; Thou didst weave me in my mother's womb. I will give thanks to Thee for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are Thy works, and my soul knows it very well. Psalms 139:13-14

Monday March 5th, 2010

So Why Stinkerie?

It's simple, really. It's the first thing I whispered against my newborn little Dumpling's temple as I held him alone for that very first time. "There's my Little Stinkerie." And all was right with the world as I brushed my lips across his delicate dewy soft newborn-pink skin and sniffed at his sparse smattering of downy soft hair. Corny and sappy, huh? I can't help it when describing my new Little Puppy. But don't get used to it - I have been told I am "irreverent."

Anyway, it just came out and he's been Stinkerie ever since. As well as Stink Pie, Stink Pot, Stinkey Pete, Little Stinks, Stinks, Puppy, Ducky, Baby, Baby Head, Baby Head Jenkins, Jack, Jack-Jack, Jackie Boy, Jax, Snork, Snorkis, Snorkle, Billy Boy, Billy Bob, Bobby Sue, Billy-Joe-Jim-Bob, Will, Willie, Willister, and the name given by my mentor turned friend Beth - Snake. When I write to her I call him either The Snakester or Slither! And of course, Dumpling, because he is my Little Dumpling - warm and soft and comforting. It's alright to combine comfort food with baby names, right? Have you ever watched the movie Where the Heart Is? If you have, you'll know why I mention this in my defense!

Long story short, you're likely to encounter any one or more of these names in a single post. Because I can. It's my blog!

Something to Consider

Bad decisions make good stories.

Something to Think About

With any pregnancy, there are concerns. With any child, there are worries. When you have a diagnosis of Down syndrome, you know what to worry about. You know what to look for. You have a plan of action. With your typical child, there is no limit to the things that can 'go wrong' or 'happen.' There's no place to focus your worry and concerns. 'IT' will always be out there, waiting. You'll always be on guard. Even when the child is 55 and has grandchildren. With Down syndrome we have a battle plan. With Down syndrome, there is a finite number of things that can go awry. With a typical child, there's isn't. It's a crap shoot. I'm sticking with the Ds and taking the other two back to the hospital for a refund.

Head Above Water

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Saturday, October 31, 2009

All Hallows' Eve

Let me go on record as saying quite officially that I do not like Halloween. I don't. There - I said it. In this household, that makes me the bad guy. So be it. I'll wear it well. I loved Halloween as a child - what kid doesn't? And I have great memories of several years where The Big Sis and I dressed up and went trick or treating. I was a teenager by then and she was shorter than I, so we got away with it when people assumed I was along to keep my lil' sister safe. Of course we usually ingested a fair amount of a certain appetite altering substance before we hit the free candy streets, so it was the perfect activity! Right up until the laziness set in and we just wanted to sit down. Anywhere. These were the days before cell phones were everywhere, so we generally had to approach a house and I'd explain that my sister had eaten too much candy and was sick, could they please call our dad. Then our 'dad' (my youngest older brother) would come and get us. But I digress. I'm a Mom now and not supposed to have any knowledge of such things. Then there was the year, having long abandoned my 'substance' days, that I went to the Fall Festival at our church as Mary. You know, the mother of Jesus? I'd already started dating The Beloved, but he was not the churchy type and was working that night anyway. So, my ex-pseudo-boyfriend (long boring story) still feeling the sting that I was dating someone else and dared to be happy, felt perfectly justified hauling me before our pastor so I could explain my costume. "I think this is inappropriate! I think it's blasphemous!" The pastor scratched his head while they gawked at my midsection and said the words over which I will forever giggle, "I don't know %&$#@. This is October. According to the Christian calender, Mary would have been about that big!" If that hadn't been bad enough, he then patted the e-p-b's belly, much bigger than my hidden pillow, and said, "You could have dressed up as Mary! Where's your costume?" I nearly wet myself with not laughing while the e-p-b stood there nearly choking on his own gall! Good memories. But back to now...

Halloween at our house starts early in the month with The Beloved announcing at various times, "Only ten more days!" "Only six more days!" "Only..." you get it. The Littles also get it. Only x number of days until we all trek out one frosty night to go to The Halloween Store. That's what it's called, and he loves to tease them until it's time to actually go. Sometimes we buy costumes, and sometimes we just get things to complete costumes. And they always come home with a skull. Or a bag of bones. Or a complete skeleton. Or plastic spiders and rubber rats. Yuck! These are not my kids! They aren't. This time of year, they are soley and completely The Beloved's kids. I had more times that I dressed up as witches and mummies that not as a kid, but I never found any interest, much less fun, in playing with skulls, bones and rubber rats. Like I said, this time of year, these are not my kids. They're his!

I have long thought that women who are pregnant at Halloween are really lucky to be able to paint their bellies into a pumpkin. I'd never had that luck until now. The Oldest was barely rounding in October and The Middle was 6 weeks old for his first Halloween. But this year I have Jack! A Jack-o'-lantern! So...Miss Susie found the big box of water color paints and hauled it out of it's hidey hole. We picked out colors and found brushes. I had an idea of how I wanted Jack's o' lantern to look. I thought I'd paint the basic outline myself and fill it in and let the kids paint in the eyes, nose and mouth. And then I had a good look at my belly. It was nice and round and stuck out there...but there was also a five pound bag of fluid hanging below it. Pretty! Not! Jack's pumpkin would look more like a giant upside down orange pear. Okay...new plan. I will stay down most of today and first thing in the morning tomorrow, when I've been flat all night and I'm less likely to have the under-belly-bag-o'-jelly, we will paint Jack's pumpkin!

It never happened. I woke up that morning with a giant bag of jiggle hanging mostly to the left because that's the side I'd spent most of the late morning on. The Beloved suggested that I wear the belly shorts with the wide band and keep it tucked under Jack so that the fluid would disperse. So I tried it. Bless him, he was truly trying to be helpful with this ridiculous thing I wanted to do...but all it got me was deep ugly grooves on the lower third of my belly and a fluid shift to an undesirable location. The fluid did to disperse to 'there.' You know, there! And further up my belly. It was awful. My mid-section looked like a giant white plucked turkey, complete with the pock marks where the feathers were pulled out. And it was all over my belly. In medical jargon it's described as "orange peel skin" but it looked more like a plucked turkey. And my 'there' region, what you can see with closed thighs, looked just like the back end of the plucked turkey that you tuck under the legs before you truss the turkey up to hold in the stuffing. Only my stuffing was on the outside. At this rate, my Jack-o'-lantern was going to look more like an ugly orange warted gourd. Crap! I kept the paints out just in case the swelling went down, but it never happened. I'd thought that if we couldn't paint me for Halloween, maybe for Thanksgiving then. Jack would be even bigger then and maybe he'd stick out farther than the bag-o-bleck!

Miss Susie helped the kids scoop out their pumpkins, since I was officially too weak to even carve them. I helped them draw the faces before carving and then took up my dutiful position as camera man and journalist for the event! The Kiddles even picked out and carved a little pumpkin for Jack!

Halloween night saw The Middle dressed up as Bumblebee of the Transformers and The Oldest as Hannah Montana of, well, Hannah Montana. The Beloved took them out looting and pillaging while I kept the home fires burning and handing out candy to trick or treaters. The Kidlets pooped out fairly early and were back home before I knew it. And when I saw the bags of loot they had, I understood why. The were loaded! The Beloved reported that there were very few houses giving out candy and that there were very few kids out this year. On a Saturday. Weird. I'd had only perhaps five groups of kids ring our doorbell. Consequently, folks weren't giving one or two pieces of candy...they were dumping handfuls into their bags. I'd done that too!

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