...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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Sunday, July 11, 2010

Wonders Never Cease!

I'd gotten up early to feed Jack and once he was burped and happy I snuggled back into bed with The Beloved. I woke hours later to an empty bed and an empty cradle. So I turned over and went back to sleep! All too soon The Beloved was shaking me gently and saying, "Time to wake up. That baby in there is hungry and wants you to feed him! I tried but he doesn't think I'm doing it right." So I got my sleepy self up and while my feet were getting acquainted with the floor, he said something amazing and I nearly dropped to my knees! "I changed him." What? He changed his diaper??? "No, I changed the baby. We have a better one now. One that's not full of poop!" I recovered from my shock and wandered out to a nearly naked Jack, doing his "Uuuummm, uuuummm, uuuummm" sound that he makes when he's hungry, while The Beloved detailed the atrocities found in the toxic diaper. "That baby! Right there. He's the one that made that diaper bomb!" He went on and on about the size, the odor, the texture, even the shape! "It was like a pancake. It was all flat and pasty and stuck to his butt and all smeared up his back and it smelled B-A-D! It was all stuck to his parts and as soon as I got the thing open he started googling and kicking and getting it all over the place!" Nearly half way through Jack's bottle, The Beloved stopped for breath and I asked, "What did you do with the diaper?" He said he put it in the 'diaper thing.'

Eventually I took a trip down the hall to the nursery. Having heard that the poop was smeared up his back, I expected a mess in the nursery and a poopy sleeper that needed soaking in a pre-wash. There was the sleeper, on the changing table, all laid out and open, just as The Beloved had left it when he lifted Jack out of it. And it was pristine. No poop globs, smears, streaks. Nothing. So I got suspicious and curious about this 'monster diaper.' Dare I pull it out of the Diaper Genie? I've stuffed massively poopy diapers into that thing and it's a real trick to get the diaper shoved down in there without pulling out an arm smeared with the stuff you were trying to get rid of in the first place. Dare I dig it out? Turns out that I didn't have to. The Beloved had opened the lid and set the diaper in it. In the top. Where it still sat. Because the Diaper Genie doesn't magically suck the offending diaper down into it's depths to be magically disposed of and never to be seen again! So I pulled it out. And the poop was a pasty pancake all right. And about the size you'd get if you rolled a walnut to a thickness of 3/8's of an inch. Oh wait. That is the size of a walnut. But as I returned the living room where The Dear Daddy was burping a happy Jack, I said nothing. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. I'm just happy that he finally changed a diaper, and still surprised that he started with a poopy one. And it was lovely that he let me sleep! "I tried to feed him so you could sleep a little longer but he kept fussing and I think he was looking for you. He missed you." Sweet!

Post Script: On Tuesday, The Beloved not only changed a pee diaper, he volunteered to change a another poopy!

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