Has this blog ever been about anything else? Mazzy. Mazzy. My first child. The girl who changed the world. My world anyway. “Every child changes your whole life!” “That’s true for typical kids in friendships, too!” “All kids go through tough school transitions!” I could try to tell you how different it is to love
Categorydisability
than many sparrows
there are people around me all the time. before most days, most years, i was alone. now i wake up with them, drive to them, work with them, come home to them, sleep next to them and wake up with them once again. before i was around them. i took care of them, but then
hallelujah is another word for thank you
and i’ve seen your flag on the marble arch and love is not a victory march it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah mazzy wants to be in the choir. she’s sat in the audience applauding her brother and her sister for a few years now. she wants a turn. but the polite email
slay trick or you get eliminated
this summer there was internet buzz over the near eradication of down syndrome in iceland. people wrote articles against eugenics and disability. and i agree, it is terrible, right? deciding that your child probably shouldn’t live because they may have down syndrome? i mean, geez louise. mazzy wasn’t too concerned though. she listened to a lot of beyonce this summer. last
raspberry beret
a funny thing kept happening as we walked alone in rows of raspberries. every spot we stopped to pick there would be a better one directly across the way. each time the very next row would hold larger berries, branches with fruit threatening to drop from the weight. how can it be, i wondered each
a blog post about a person with down syndrome
i had a dream last night about bloggers who write about their children with down syndrome. some are so famous online that you’d recognize them in public. in the dream i was walking by lake michigan and a mother had set up her kids for a photo shoot complete with lighthouse in the background. mazzy
here i am to worship, here i am to bow down
i smell her hair. strawberry shortcake. thin arms and legs with a head too large for any human body. i inhale and wish for the scented air i remember from the doll of my youth. i would have taped that doll to my face like i once tried to tape mazzy’s pacifier to her head
what god thinks of down syndrome
this weekend held world down syndrome day within it. 3/21. if ever there was a reason to dust off the ol’ blog, this is it. a conversation with my dear friend, jamica, reminded me of what being mazzy’s mother has taught me, is teaching me still…this post was an article that was published in that
the mother of god
one place in my heart holds a grudge against humanity and all my friends. weddings and birthday parties. whenever i catch wind of another girl’s birthday party happening with no invitation for mazzy, i plot a little murder in my heart. every time i see friend’s daughters walk down the aisle trailing after our dearly
what i’ll do instead
“the normal kids use these.” mazzy’s classmate says this to me. she says it in the music room. she says it without much thought because there is normal and then there is her – her friends, her class. i am kind of stunned and so i don’t say it quick like i should, the