Mama, I’m gonna love you when you’re gone.
Today: “Max, you really are a great boy.” “I know it.”
Yesterday: “Who’s that in that picture, Mom?” “I don’t know, someone who used to work with Daddy, but I don’t remember his name.” “It’s Ted.” “Yes, I know Daddy’s name, but I don’t remember that man’s name.” Goober
Most likely it’s because I’m tired…and Tj’s flying tonight, so I’m a little lonely, too. But what spurred this (self-indulgent) post is a comment on another blog. I’ll likely take this down in a few days…but maybe not.
A woman was lamenting that she didn’t know exactly when she conceived her baby because now they didn’t know when to administer some invasive test. A commenter said something about the risk of her baby having “horrible diseases like Downs”. I know that before Jack I felt sorry for anyone with Down Syndrome. And I felt bad for their parents, too. But a horrible disease???
Of course I’m only hurt because of my sweet Jack. But really, people. I’ve learned so much in these last 17 months. What a sweet boy my boy is. I hope there is nothing to hold him back as he grows…but then I hope the same thing for his brother. I remember a couple of months ago feeling sorry for Jack, and then I realized he’s happy and healthy…if he’s not sorry why should I be? Of course he’ll be different from a lot of other people, but so will Max. So am I. So are we all.
It’s easy for me to see this…I’m living it first-hand (or am I second-hand?). I guess I just want the whole world to see Jack, not Down Syndrome. Don’t look for things he can’t do (as I find myself doing sometimes, too), but just see Jack.
It’s funny the lessons your kids teach you. I’m sure I’d never have learned this without Jack.
What was that sound? Max asked. When I answered that I didn’t know he said he thought it was a spider clapping really loud. Heh.
He’s always talked about spiders a lot…when his legs are asleep he says he has spiders in them. But he really doesn’t like getting into spider webs. I think he has a love/hate relationship with spiders.
after I left him in his ‘nest’ for the night…
“Hey, mom, I have a plan…”
Nice try, kid.