...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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Monday, December 20, 2010


So The Dearly Beloved is working over night, The Olders are both at the Other Mommy's house for a sleep over and they're all going to see Tangled tomorrow, so it's just Willie and I at home tonight. The Olders are out of school for 25 straight days. TWENTY FIVE days people. They got out Friday and by Sunday they were driving The Beloved and I batsh*t with their bickering. And today I am free of them! I took Willie and I out shopping in the pouring rain, just because I could get out without the gaggling goobers in tow, trying to kill each other from the front door, in the van, in the store, wherever we wound up next and back home to the front door again. I even took Willie and I out to a sit down dinner in a fancy restaurant that no one else likes but me. The meal was sumptuous and Willie was the perfect gentlemanly dinner companion. I'd had this gift card from Carinos for a few months...but I'm the only one who likes their food! And I'm so blue and lonely that I'm sitting here crying over stupid sentimental movies and scooping up Kleenex to shovel away the snot running down my face. What is wrong with this picture?

My plan is to complete yet another step in the process of taking back our bedroom from all the crap that winds up in there when company comes or when there's simply no where else to put it, (Remember I lost our spare room late last year!) and then sort out and The Little's gifts to make sure there's a fairly equal, or at least in obvious but unequal, distribution between wrapped-under-the-tree and stocking presents from Santa between the two Olders. I'd planned on giving Willie a Baby Einstein around the world discovery center for his big Santa gift...until I realized that The Middle was with me when I bought it, and if I actually put it out from Santa, the jig will be up. I'm not ready for them to lose that magic. It's such a sacred part of childhood. So...plan B. Very few of Willie's gifts will be wrapped under the tree. Ummmm, First off, we're just going to have to unwrap them anyway. B.) He loves to eat wrapping paper, and 3.) I have no #3, Okay, I just wanted to make your eyeballs stumble over mixing up my list points because I can't figure out how to do bullet points. Humor me. I'm sad and lonely and have snot running down my face from crying like a baby.

Where was I going with this? Oh yeah, as soon as Pillie-Pie wakes up I'm going to vacuum our bedroom. Then I'm going to scrape off the dining room table. Then I'm going to haul out what little loot I've managed to stash away in at least three, no five, places throughout the house and sort the goodies. If the table hasn't realized that it's now free and run off somewhere, I'll start wrapping gifts! That will cheer me up! I have an unbeatable system for wrapping gifts. All of The Girlie's gifts are in double sided purple/pink (Christmas) wrapping paper. All of The Pod's are in double sided blue. Willie's are in double sided red. Those huge 90 pound rolls you get at Costco! We're color coded. No tags to fall off, thereby eliminating the gift mix up! And I'm pretty sure those rolls will last until they are all in college! No kidding...they're huge 90 pound rolls!

So thanks for listening to me whine. I'm better now!

Or we could just go directly to plan C, which would include Jack waking with a whimpering cry and a fever of 103.2! Off to the ER. I gave him some ibuprofen and we left home with Jack naked save for a diaper in his car seat at 2:00 am. The ER was mercifully empty tonight and we left there at 4:08 am, with a temp of 98.0 and Jack once again wearing clothing, with antibiotics and a diagnosis of a viral upper respiratory infection, ears and throat fine, antibiotics for prophylaxis due to his cardiac issues! Which only proves once again that our ER, for now at least, does not suck. The doc who treated Jack was looking at me as if we'd been neighbors at some point in our lives. I informed her that my daughter was treated by her recently and she said excitedly "Oh! The basketball! How is she?" Points for her that she remembered! And for the record, in case you're wondering...Jack isn't sick because we were out in the cold. Colds and flu are not caused by being cold, washing your hair and going out, or going to bed with wet hair. They are caused by bacteria and viruses...things you are likely to catch indoors in warm environs. I'm just sayin'...

Post Script Thursday, December 23rd: The Girlie busted into our bedroom, in a panic, this evening asking, "Mom? Can babies...well...are babies...able to be bad? Can babies be bad? Is that possible? They can't, can they?" This serious concern was delivered complete with a serious face, furrowed brow, forward posture and many gesticulations while she tried to convey her worry in words. No, I tell her, I don't think that babies can be bad. Why? "Well, we have a problem then!" clearly she's upset, all but shouting at me, with more arm flapping to emphasize the enormity of the problem. "William only has three presents! Me and $&%@# have five each! Under the tree! Go look! I don't understand why, if babies can't be bad. Why doesn't William has as many presents as me and $&%@# do?" So I tell her simply that we have so little money this year to buy presents, and that Willie just had a birthday a month ago and got tons of presents. She is not satisfied with this explanation and suggests that maybe I should take back one of her presents and buy something for her baby brother. Aaaaawwww! and Dang it! In a flash of brilliance, if I do say so myself, I tell her to go check and see who has the biggest present...from the front room, hollered all the way across the house..."Mom! Are William's presents wrapped in the red paper?" Yes I say in a normal speaking voice because the baby monitor is right where she's standing. "The biggest present is wrapped in red! Is that William's?" Yes, I say into the monitor again. So once back in our bedroom, she informs me again that William has the biggest present. Well, that kinda makes up for having fewer, doesn't it? She's still unsure so I insist that William is young and that he won't know or care that he got fewer gifts than his siblings. And then she had to say it. "Well, maybe Santa's planning on bringing him something really special!" and off she goes, happy as can be. Dang it! Santa most certainly is not going to leave some whopping gift in Jack's stocking. The coffers are empty! In fact, I had to sell the coffers on eBay to buy dog food! Danged kid. She has a huge heart. Volunteered to have one of her presents returned to provide more for her baby brother. Hopefully, she'll be too enrapt Christmas morning to notice that Santa didn't leave Jack a puppy or a pony. My Girlie rocks!

1 comment:

Holly W said...

I'm impressed the doc remembered!
and glad you had some quiet time...until the smallest one realized you were relaxing and shook things up a bit...
isn't motherhood grand?