Somehow World Down syndrome Day passed me by this year. A friend I grew up with sent me the video below. Those of you in the Down syndrome community might have seen it before, but I didn't want to assume you had, so I'm posting it now - a couple of weeks late.



I must have watched the video 10 times. The song A Thousand Years in my head. The image of Ace jumping up and down, and the smile on Archie's face - and how he reached out to hug her - come to mind over and over again as one of the most beautiful moments ever captured on film.

I showed the video to my students who are going out into the teaching profession - I wanted them to hear Ace's message. I wanted to share the love.

Thank you Ace, Archie and the Eicher family - your video made us all smile wide :o)

Trying to Do a Little Good

I believe we can do a little good.  When one in our community is down, we can rally around show we care.

I've donated The Knight's Gift to the $5000 fundraiser for Subha Gill.  Subha has a rare form of bone cancer.  Her younger brother is in my son's class.  Chemo isn't working.  Stupid cancer.




I used acrylics on a 10 x 10 wrapped canvas.  The black frame is digital - the painting appears as below:



Text around the outer frame reads:

Even after all these years the sun never says to the earth,
"You owe me."
Look what happens to a love like that.
It lights up the whole sky.
(Hafiz)

HOW TO ENTER A BID:   You can place bids via e-mail at  carolnaha@gmail.com - I will post the bids in the comment section here, as well as on facebook.

For further details of the fundraiser go to:  http://www.facebook.com/#!/events/270651553012125/  For more details about Subha Gill:  http://janislacouvee.com/subha-gills-5000-fundraiser/

Together we're better, and together we can do a little good.

Carol N.

Happy Heartiversary, Aidan!

Yesterday marked the 5 year anniversary of Aidan's heart surgery. We made a cake together, complete with bandaid:



We sang, "Happy heartiversary," Flintstones style.  Then we all helped to blow out the candles.  Afterall, we were all in it together. 

 Aidan clapped...but wouldn't eat any of the cake.  Or taste the icing. 

We will continue to celebrate as much as possible, because everyone out there who's gone through something like this, knows it is pretty much life changing.  Being in the Pediatric ICU for that little amount of time was the most humbling experience of my life. 

Liam, the middlest of billy goats, was playing piano on the weekend.  He was playing a medley of songs that he knows.  During the Buffalo Hunt, he said, "this was how fast my heart was racing waiting until Aidan had his heart fixed."  Then he moved into Somewhere over the Rainbow - "and this is how joyful it felt when he was done."

Amen to that middle billy goat.  Amen to that.

The Lake Huron Carolers

Cards are 5 x7, high-quality printing done at Art Ink Print.

Proceeds from the sale of this card go to support the Greater Victoria Down Syndrome Society Music Therapy Program. 

If you know of anyone looking for art cards to give this Christmas, please direct them to this site.  Many thanks for helping to spread the word!

Together we're better!

Carol N.

How do you do?

Picture this:

A circle of moms chatting outside the school doors after the classes have filed in.  Aidan marches into the circle and proceeds to shake hands with each mom.  Insert a cute little chuckle attached to a blond-haired, blue-eyed, sweetie boy.  He knew he was being charming. 

Aidan's accomplishment?  Wrapping my friends around his little finger right along with me.

(BTW - the photo is an old one - but I love it!)

Kinder visit

Aidan and I are venturing into unknown waters next Friday.  He will have his first day of kindergarten at the same school his big brothers attend, and I will be off to teach my first class at the university.  It is truly fitting that we are sharing our first big day, as he was born on my birthday - and has truly become my sidekick over the past five years. 

On Thursday we went to visit with the kindergarten teacher, and I just wanted to highlight a few of the beautiful things she did to welcome Aidan (and me) into her classroom.  Why do I want to do this?   Because we (parents) often express what teachers are NOT doing right (me included). . . rarely do we shout their praises - and I think it's important that we have a model of excellence out there in the blog world.

One.  Mrs. F. greeted Aidan and got down to his level (which he promptly copied and crouched down too).

Two.  Mrs. F. said how excited she was to have Aidan in her class, and how she was busy preparing her classroom with things that would be developmentally appropriate for him.  She showed us a few of the items and Aidan had an opportunity to engage with them.

Three.  She had a gift for him wrapped in red tissue paper.  Not that I believe teachers need to give gifts to their students, but the way she gave it was really nice.  It was a gift for him to open and keep at the classroom.  Something to share with the other students.  BTW - Aidan played with the paper, shredding it and throwing it in the air.  He couldn't have been happier.

Four.  Mrs. F. asked me how I was feeling about Aidan starting school.  She reassured me that he was going to be very loved, and that he already was loved by her.  She shared a story of her own attachment to her daughter, now in her twenties, and of her own feelings of separation.

Five.  She told me that if I ever saw something that she was missing in her teaching of Aidan to let her know. 

Blue ink on a white page

Today I am a tired mother who wants to be a writer.  Is it really a bad thing that I want to go away for a while to find my writing? I dream of a place where nobody claims a piece of me.  A place that inspires, but doesn't overwhelm.  A nurturing sort of place.

Does such a place exist for a mother of three?

This morning I tried to find a piece I'd written a while ago about my three months in Istanbul.  I thought about reworking it for a literary journal,  but now I can't remember where I placed it.  In the deep dark murky space that is my brain, I picture it written in my lousy handwriting with blue ink on a white page. 

Almost all of my scribbles are written with blue ink on a white page. 

I just went through an entire journal - and stumbled on pieces of writing I'd completely forgotten about - including the beginning of a YA novel that has promise.  Now I will go search through other journals looking for the Istanbul story - though I fear finding other pieces I've forgotten about that will plunge me further into longing for a space to get my act together.