I love this!


Thank you, Connie!


Fun stuff to share…

Jordan, who blogs at The Wonderwheel and also happens to be a Speech-Language Pathologist, has created a new blog especially for families interested in all things communication.  Go here to check it out.

Kristy Colvin, founder and president of the IMDSA, has come up with an amazing way to raise awareness, have fun, and celebrate World Down Syndrome Day (3/21) that she’s named “Genes Day.”  You can get more details from her blog, Mosaic Moments.

And finally, are the winter blahs getting to you?  What better way to pass the time than talking about books!  The book club discussion at Downsyn.com is back on, and this week we’re discussing, hmmm, can you guess?  You don’t have to be signed in to read along–if you want to participate, becoming a member of Downsyn.com is very easy.  And if you’d prefer, you can email me your questions/thoughts and I can post them, for you.

Happy reading!

Lots to share

Free books here.

More free books here.

An opportunity for kindness here.

And I have more to write!  But it will have to wait, because as Bennett has been saying of every house but ours, “Someone is in the holiday spirit!”  Time for me to get into the holiday spirit, too.

I’ll leave you with this, what I’ve been pondering lately:  white lights, or colored?

A new online resource

Flourish Network is a brand-new online community for parents of kids with special needs. It’s free, and if you sign up this month, you can win one of 10 signed copies of Road Map to Holand. I especially like the video interviews and podcasts, which include a converation with Joe Meares, the founder of DADS (Dads Appriating Down Syndrome), a discussion with Dr. Michael Harpold of DSRTF about the latest research on cognition in Down syndrome, and personal family stories from the parents’ perspective.

Permission to slow down

I received this email from Amelie, who blogs at Lola’s verrückte Welt. She writes:

When I learned that Lola, my now 10 month old daughter, had Down syndrome, or at least, when I first had this suspection, on my own, alone, in the middle of a November night, in a hospital bed, shortly after having given birth, laying lonely without my belly, without my baby, I only had the wish it would all be a nightmare. I will wake up, and everything is alright, my baby here, the sun, and all… But then, another strong feeling overcame me. I don’t remember where it came from, however, it entered my mind. It was the feeling of a deep relief, of gratitude. ‘Did you have to come to show me?’ The strong knowledge, somehow, that I couldn’t go on like before, trying to make my career in adademic life, succeeding in science, under the incredible pressures of our system… and I felt so deeply relieved that she had taken this burden from me and would show me her way of life, simple and rich…

and there I went, somewhere in between these two thoughts, sometimes quite close to the nightmare feeling, although I would never admit that. Sometimes closer to the relief-side of the feelings, but never quite managing to feel it as intensely as in that night. Mostly trying to find my way in between. Trying to make things better, let love come and take me. One part of myself struggling against the deep wish to do the things the simple way, telling me that it’s too obvious and naive, urging for complications that sound more important. I never imagined it was so difficult for me ‘to take it easy’. Although Lola is my best teacher. And she has taught me so much, already.

Your life – as catched in your book – is such an incredible and moving account of how simple and rich life can be if you take it to the bottom – and smell the dusty autumn, put on the candles in the kitchen on a winter day, see your kids run down the hill, cook a chicken and it’s smell in the house… and all the little details which remind us of our own childhood and there you can touch them again… and our kids grow, and grow, at their pace, in the rhythm they got from heaven.

Amelie also writes about our email exchange, here.

Has anything more happened with Cathy?

I’m asked about Cathy often.

I think there is a hope, and I understand this hope, that she will somehow come across my book and recognize herself in it and will have a change of heart. If she did, I would welcome it. I would like to talk about what happened–her reactions, and mine, and how we could do better, together, for the sake of our kids and especially, ourselves.

But I’ve learned Cathy and her family have moved out of state, which makes it unlikely that anything more will come of it.