Maskus Miracles: Growning Up

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Growning Up

Days like today remind that beyond all the medical terms, doctors appointments, medications and worries, Evan is just a baby, our baby. He is our last baby and I am trying to cherish every moment. Every first, every last.

We started the day shopping for new clothes for Evan. He is finally putting on weight and growning out of his clothes. Until recently he was still wearing clothes I got during my baby shower. He is still so tiny he can still fit in some of the same clothes he did this time last year. At last check he was 18 pounds!

We then took him for his first "real" haircut. I have trimmed his hair a few times before at home, but nothing too much. He did so good. I held him and he just sat wondering what was going on. I sat thinking, my baby is growing up...to fast. But I must admit he looks absolutely adorable!!!!

BEFORE...

What are these people doing??

WOW!

I'm a big boy!

1 comment:

JamieMarch 20, 2011 at 9:33 PM
Love the haircut, he's so cute!
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Welcome To Holland

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this…
When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum, the Michelangelo David, the gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome to Holland.”
“Holland?!” you say. “What do you mean, Holland?” I signed up for Italy! I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy.
But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to some horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s just a different place.
So you must go out and buy a new guidebook. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It’s just a different place. It’s slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around, and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills, Holland has tulips, Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life you will say, “Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.”
The pain of that will never, ever, go away, because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.
But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.