LEARNING AT THE POTTER'S WHEEL

I'm a mix of emotions as I post this entry. . . . and that's fitting as parenting is just that, a mixture of so many things.

I'm excited for my youngest, Z-man. He's been potty-trained now for two years, but the nights haven't all been dry. Yet, in the last couple of weeks, the dry nights have moved into the majority. My writing brought me a few pennies, so the last time we were out running errands, we stopped into one of those box stores.

This was during the tax-free weekend, so all kinds of stuff was placed for prominent display. One of those items were the draw-string twin sheet sets that you buy for kids going to camp or college. They were on sale. We didn't NEED any sheets, mind you. The ones we have are fine, but they are old.

I looked down at Z-man and told him how proud I was of him that he wasn't wetting the bed any more (mostly) and that I thought he deserved to have brand new sheets. He was thrilled and picked out a bright apple-green color to have on his bed.

That night, we put his sheets on and tossed the others in the wash. His brother had also gotten a set. They were both quite proud of their selections and couldn't wait to hop into bed.

Would you believe it? Those sheets are worth their weight in gold. Z-man has something HE chose, HE picked out and HE wants to keep nicely on HIS bed. So far, the magic sheets have done their work nicely. All dry nights . . . One accident happened en route to the restroom, but the green sheets? Dry as a bone. Thank you very much!

So, why the mix of emotions?

Because tonight, there is a family making arrangements to have their their son released from the hospital to come home. There aren't any magic sheets for this young man. The cancer has done its worst, and the end looms. Hospice has been called, and prayers are being said. They've taken their last vacation.

These parents who have kissed the boo-boos and soothed the hurts are now facing an unimaginable loss, but there is no time to process all of that. For now, they must keep track of pain meds, care schedules and the endless telephone calls. They will not sleep much during the next while. Someone will always need to be awake. The one that should be resting likely won't be able to. They will make arrangements that no parent ever dreams of making.

They aren't just running out of time, they are losing time they thought they had. . . The holidays yet to come . . . The milestones not yet met. In an almost cruel twist, weddings, births, deaths, graduations, and new friendships will all continue to occur . . . time will march on . . . oblivious to this crushing blow.

For now, I live in a world where green sheets can work magic. But I have also known the sorrow that comes when nothing I could do would fix it. I know what it is to go on living when one I love did not . . . and I grieve for this mother and this father and the task that is before them.

Tonight, I'll tuck Z-man into his still-new green sheets, and I'll pray for this family as they settle in for the night. I'll be thankful that when these times come I know there IS comfort and peace because the Potter holds me firmly within His skilled hands.

Duke and I have known this man for an embarrassing number of years. His name is Ted Stambolitis. All of our sons have chosen at some point to celebrate a birthday at his restaurant. We've watched that restaurant grow from a busting at the seams little cafe to a major attraction in our town (still busting at the seams). He's moved since opening and built a beautiful little mall that features his place. It's the kind of eatery that veterans of war, patriots and little kids alike all have a great time.

But the NICEST thing I can say about this guy is that he is a friend. He's the kind of friend that is genuinely interested in people.

It took me a while to realize that. I'd known some less than sterling characters in my life. I should have known he was different when Duke pronounced him okay (another story, I've since learned to trust my husband's judgment of character).

This man didn't become the success he is today because we were his friends. If every friend we knew ate at his place (and we've likely dragged them all there at one time or another), it wouldn't account for much in his bottom line. But if you ever go with us to his place, you'd think that we paved the parking lot for him and gifted him the mortgage.

As it is, the most we did was gladly buy a brick with our names on it to sit in front of his establishment, and Duke gave him some stamp memorabilia to hang on his wall. I say hang. Would you believe that he has the things bolted to his walls?

Knowing this man has been a privilege. He's one of the good guys that deserves every good thing that comes his way and then some.

If all of this wasn't enough, there's yet another reason we enjoy him so much.

We seldom go out to eat. It really isn't in our budget. Z-man is getting to the stage in his life where he is conversational and very outgoing. We are working on a lot of things to do with social skills with him. We are finding that people are often nice but just unsure of what they should do. It's always a balancing act for me to try and decide how much of my time and attention needs to be spent trying to make them feel comfortable, translate Z's confusing speech and how much time I should spend reinforcing lessons learned at home . . . or figuring out when to just let things go and relax. When we go out as a family, our behavior speaks to our faith, and it shapes perceptions about what it means to be a family with a special needs child.

That's one of the reasons I just love Ted Stambolitis so much. When we visit his restaurant, he acts like we have just done him the greatest honor. He finds us the best seat and tells our server to give us the best treatment.

Today, Z-man turned 6 years old. As his brothers before him, he got to go out and eat at Mr. Ted's place. Ted greeted us warmly and inquired about our health, asked how my parents were doing, etc. When we were all done with our meal, Ted told us to wait just a minute.

He went into the back and stopped his busy staff. He collected all of them and somewhere found a candle which he stuck into a HUGE chocolate chip cookie. Moments later, they were surrounding our table, clapping hands and singing 'Happy Birthday' to one delighted little boy.

Z'man was thrilled and bounced along as they sang. Then he leaned forward and blew out the candle! In case you didn't hear that, I'll repeat it.
My little guy blew out his own candle!

Years of speech therapy. LOTS of work. We knew he had the skills, but never before this day has he spontaneously blown out his own candle. Maybe it's because we always held our own breath and watched to see if he would, if he could.

Tonight, it was just Ted and his crew cheering him on like it was no big deal.

But it WAS a big deal. Thanks to Ted Stambolitis and the Flight Deck, we all got a gift for Z-man's birthday. My boy blew out his candle. And I'm still crying just to think of it. It is SO GREAT to have those moments of normalcy.

Such a milestone. Such a treasure. A gift to us from a friend who was just doing what he always does. How do you say thankyou to someone like that? A person that goes out of his way to celebrate what is meaningful to you?

I don't know. These few words don't really convey what I'm feeling. But, if any of you are ever in the neighborhood and want a bite to eat, I highly recommend stopping in at the Flight Deck. You'll get your money's worth and then some!

Three years ago, I attended a seminar for parents learning about how to implement the Casein Free/Gluten Free diet. We had already started incorporating the CF/GF diet on our own to help ensure that Z-man didn’t encounter difficulties with digesting gluten.

The degreed nutritionist taught the seminar with a book by Lisa Lewis (Special Diets for Special Kids) on her lap and the book Unraveling the Mystery of Autism and PDD by Karyn Seroussi on her briefcase. The significance of this is that the Seroussi book I already had at home after seeing its review on the Bulk Herb Store web site. The book by Lisa Lewis, was recommended in the Seroussi book, and I had checked it out from the local library. (I didn’t add the Lewis book to my library.)

I listened as the nutritionist answered several questions with “I don’t know.” At one point, I did tell her where the answer to one of the questions was located in her book so that she could look it up. I went there feeling very intimidated and thinking I had so much more to learn (I’m still learning *smile*), but I left there encouraged in the way God has supplied the many needs for our family.

If you’ve read much about our early days with Z-man’s diagnosis, you will know that one of our greatest concerns was how or if we would be equal to the task of parenting a child with special needs. We knew we loved him, but we didn’t know if that was enough.

I’m here to tell you that your love coupled with God’s wisdom is exactly what your child needs. God can get you the information you need, packaged in a most effective way for your circumstances. I’m not here to tell you that you don’t need expert advice. I am here to tell you that the experts aren’t the expert on YOUR child. YOU are! With God’s guidance, you will be able to pick and sort your way through the decisions you must make.

That’s why I so highly recommend Sally Fallon’s book, NourishingTraditions along with Karen Sourissi’s book, Unraveling the Mysteries of Autism. While these books are both well written and interesting, they also provide parents with an education in how foods work and how they affect the development of a child – and overall health. These are reference volumes for how to evaluate your own circumstance and make choices in the best interest of your child and family.

I stumbled upon these books because God had placed into my hands literature from No Greater Joy ministries. I read the recommendations, invested in the books, and I am STILL benefiting from that decision.

At the seminar I mentioned, I was one of the better-prepared parents in attendance – and some of those parents had been doing this diet for 8 years! I not only understood the mechanics of the diet, but I understood why it works – something the nutritionist didn’t really seem to grasp.

Again and again, in this journey I have been reminded to praise my Loving Heavenly Father who takes the time supply His children with more than they need before they even know how to ask.

If you don’t have a copy, these books are often available at your local library. Check them out and see for yourself if you don’t think they are a necessary reference for every kitchen. These books can both be purchased new from Bulk Herb Store (http://www.bulkherbstore.com/NT and http://www.bulkherbstore.com/UMA). To save money, you can often find used copies available online. You can’t have mine. ;-)

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Now unto him that is able
to do exceeding abundantly
above all that we ask or think,
according to the power that worketh in us,
21Unto him be glory
in the church by Christ Jesus
throughout all ages,
world without end.
Amen.
Ephesians 3:20,21

Movie Review
The Woman
Who Willed a Miracle
(Click on the title above for a link
to used copies available at Amazon.com)

I’m no movie critic, but if my opinion counts for anything and if you do occasionally watch movies, you will want to watch The Woman Who Willed a Miracle. You’ll have to work to find a copy. It’s one of those after-school special, made for TV movies from 1983, but copies can be had.

Mine arrived in the mail not too long ago. I half-expected it to be a poorly written dramatization of a true story. I didn’t expect to have much in common with the mother as she was an adoptive mother who agreed to raise a child with multiple physical and developmental difficulties. I noticed that the movie won 4 Emmy Awards. Still skeptical, I inserted the cassette and watched Cloris Leachmen (she portrayed May Lemke) blow all of my misconceptions away.

May and Joe Lemke have already raised their family and are nearing retirement when they get a message from the nearby hospital asking if they will take a blind infant to raise. The hospital doesn’t expect the infant to live beyond the week. They know that May is a former nanny and trained in nursing. The Lemkes agree to open their hearts and home to a little boy who looks like a hopeless case to everyone else.

May and Joe trust that the heart knows things that the intellect of men cannot conceive. Their unreserved faithfulness, investing their time, energies and resources into a child that – from outward appearances – cannot perceive or return their love is nothing less than amazing.

I won’t give away too much of the story, but I will share with you some of the scenes that most spoke to me:

• When the infant is given to May, the nurse insists on relating the doctors’ findings and prognosis BEFORE this mother is given a chance to even get to know the 6 month old. While she is still reeling from the baby’s appearance and unresponsiveness, this new mother gathers her wits enough to inform the nurse that, “No one comes to May’s house to die!”
• The scenes from the first 24 hours in their home. Painstakingly this mother places nourishment on the baby’s tongue, massages his throat and teaches him how to move his muscles to swallow. This was before infant G.I. tubes and this exhausting vigil was what saved Leslie’s life. He would have starved if she had not taught him how to eat. I remember a similar time when Z-man was first born.
• Well-meaning neighbors, friends and doctors do their best to convince May not to waste her energies on this ‘hopeless’ case. May and her husband Joe selflessly continue to give of themselves even when no one else is willing to look for evidence of progress. They are constantly finding ways to stimulate Leslie mentally and physically.
• Joe’s protectiveness of May and his devotion to his son are both understated and inspiring. Despite exhaustion and no reason to hope for progress, Joe is unflinching in his support and help to give this child every reason to succeed.
• Leslie’s response when May asks him, “What is love?” I won’t spoil it by telling you. Just keep a tissue ready.

Of course, you’ll not be able to watch the movie without wondering what happened to the family. I can tell you that May and Joe have both passed. Even though May suffered with Alzheimer’s at the last, neither she nor Joe was placed in a care facility. They died (Joe before May) in the care of loving family. Leslie lives with Mary, May & Joe’s youngest daughter. He has never been institutionalized.

You can follow these links
for more information on Leslie Lemke:

Wisconsin Medical Society

Wisconsin Christian News

It is very presumptuous of me to even broach this topic. Maybe you’d think that the parent of a child with special needs would know just what to do or what to say, but the truth is that the responses are just as different as the people who must deal with a devastating diagnosis.

So, I’ll try and give you a little information and some direction based on my experience. However, you’ll need to figure out how it applies to your circumstance.

I REALLY have to hand it to my parents on this one. For all of the mistakes they’ve ever made, they deserve some sort of trophy for knowing how grandparents proceed when they find out their grandchild has special needs. My mom was a little weepy (well, that’s just her), and she just hugged me a lot. Most importantly, she held that grandbaby and sang to him. She didn’t know what to say, so she just sang to him and did whatever she could think of to get him to respond to her. It was so nice to see someone else relating to him as a baby and not as a diagnosis.

My dad did a lot of holding too. He seemed stunned by it all, like someone had punched him in the gut or taken something he didn’t know he had. Yet, when they were with us, Dad would either hold the baby or find something positive to say about his growth, strength, progress, color, or whatever. There were SO MANY days when all we had were discouraging reports from the medical community. It was a RELIEF to hear someone notice something positive for a change.

Having a baby in the house is supposed to be a time of joy. My parents, in their own way, helped us remember that this was a BABY. I’m sure they discussed the matter with any number of their friends and heard all sorts of miss-information, but they didn’t tell us about it. They didn’t expect us to help them through their grief. Wisely, they knew that we were processing all of these things ourselves. They leaned on others that didn’t know us and wouldn’t carry tales of conversations out of context. Mom has the gift of gab so this was a TREMENDOUS GIFT to us. It kept us from having to answer thoughtless questions or having to add ‘comfort parents’ to our long list of things we needed to do.

As far as other friends and extended family, the parents of the child will really be your guide. Even if you have a child that has the same diagnosis, there are so many treatment options and the field is changing so quickly, that what was cutting edge treatment for your child may not be the best for their child. So, when it comes to treatment options, I would only share word of mouth recommendations. The parents will likely already have REAMS of information to wade through, trying to figure out what to do. It is overwhelming enough without well-meaning family and friends adding to the pile. In my opinion, the recommendation of a parent with a positive outcome trumps any number of theories from other sources. Plus, it’s encouraging to hear what worked for another family. Become a peddler of hope.

Speaking of peddlers, beware of the predators. They are out there and they are shameless. These people will tell new parents (they are trained to spot them when they are out with their little one) that they have just the right nutrient/vitamin/enzyme/etc. combination in supplemental form that will give this child a fighting chance at a productive future. Their literature is heavy on anecdotal testimonials, and they refuse to answer probing questions. For hundreds of dollars a month, they will sell you hope and not take any of the responsibility for your financial ruin or a less than ideal outcome.

One company even offers a ‘scholarship’ for your special kid. Be prepared to be placed on a waiting list (read that mailing list) where you will be contacted and told how your child could be making progress IF ONLY you could get relatives to foot the bill NOW. Oh, and once you get to the top of the list, be prepared to add your child’s picture to their literature with your glowing reports – that is IF you want to qualify for the ‘scholarship.’

New parents are vulnerable to these tactics.
I’ll leave you to develop your own methods to protect them. >;(

One thing that EVERYONE can agree on is that whole foods free of toxins are best for optimum development in ANY child. People don’t realize the affect that foods truly have in a child’s ability to interact with his/her environment and his/her ability to learn. Yet, figuring out WHO to believe is quite the challenge. For this, I have two books and two web sites that have information everyone needs to know. The web sites are free. The books are well worth the investment.

Both of these books are crucial resources. Unraveling the Mystery of Autism, by Karyn Seroussi details one mother’s search to determine what foods were affecting her son’s behavior and development. I understand why the word autism is part of the title, but I don’t think it is a book only for parents of autistic children. I believe ALL parents wanting to know how to determine if their children are reacting badly to toxins in foods NEED to read this book.

Nourishing Traditions by Sally Fallon is a mind-expanding education on how to pack the most nutrients into and eliminate toxins out of foods. She details the elements of good nutrition and what quality sources offer these things in whole food form.

The National Association for Child Development has been on the forefront of research into how to increase the efficiency of neurological pathways. At the bottom of this link -- http://www.nacd.org/more_information/health_nutrition.html -- are some specially formulated recipes that provide lots of nutrients in easily digested form. You can actually view some of the forums where moms of special needs kids share tips on what has (or hasn’t) worked for them.

WellTellMe (http://www.welltellme.com/discuss/) is a site that deals with natural health from a Christian perspective. It’s like having a Mama online. Other moms share what they have learned, their research, and what works for them. A search is likely to reveal that there is already a discussion thread on a topic you about which you’d like more information.

I mention these resources because most of them have moms with a kid that is already dealing with the diagnosis that your new little one has. When you place these tools into a new mom’s hands, you are handing her the gift of other loving moms who can relate to her experiences, and reference materials that she can draw upon for years to come.

Of course, none of this tells you what to do for your sister or your friend or your relative that just discovered their baby has _____________.

The BEST thing you can do is BE THERE and tell those parents that you BELIEVE in them. Your heart will show through even if you say some thing stupid like:
§ These children are always so loving! (Yeah, when they aren’t clobbering big brother with a toy. *eye roll*)
§ These children are such a blessing! (Oh, I’m so glad I finally got one of THOSE. The other ones were just duds. (:-/) )
§ God gives special kids to special parents. (????? I know the sentiment is good, but the parents and the child are all human. Let’s acknowledge reality. God can handle what is.)

Remind them that God is more than equal to the task of filling in all of the blanks and providing them with what they need to accomplish this task. If they are angry at God, tell them that He’s big enough to handle their anger. Remind them of what HE says about children. These parents have heard everyone else’s evaluation of their child. Send them reminders of how God sees children and the promises He makes in His word for them.

Pray for them and send them notes to tell them that you are praying. Ask to hold their baby. Play with the baby. Delight in their baby – even if you have to figure out how to do it around tubes and such. Make meals, phone calls, feed the dog, water the grass, or whatever other practical helps you can offer. They may not have enough strength or stamina to say thank you, but they will remember your heart and forgive any inadvertent flubs.

And when you just don’t know what to say and the awkward moments come say, “I don’t know what to say. Could you use a hug?”

Psalm 127:3 contains the phrase, “children are an heritage of the LORD.” Until I had Z-man, I didn’t give that phrase a lot of thought. I was reading it one day and it occurred to me that children are the rewards that God pays Himself. This child isn’t the result of the good or bad of ME but this child is the LORD’s heritage. God called my child a reward.

On my darkest days when I didn’t know WHAT to believe, I turned away from the medical documentations and prognosis and determined that I would believe HIM. If my child didn’t measure up to men’s standards, then I’d just use God’s measure. This child is a gift God made for Himself.

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Psalm 127:3
Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD:
and the fruit of the womb is his reward.

The emotions swirled around me.

We had plans. Our kids would be on their own in 20 years, and we would be able to enjoy each other in our retirement years. I would luxuriate in the glory that is grandchildren and daughters in laws.

I had plans. . .

With the words Down syndrome, all of those plans seemed to change. I searched for someone to tell me what this meant to me, our family, our future, our child. Clinical descriptions were cruel. I found out later, that most of them were also inaccurate. Developmental specialists were focused on spotting problems. Many parents of children with Down syndrome seemed caught up in a cause or some group support, rather than their own child. Specialists quickly reduced my child to a series of parts and pieces that needed tweaking. He didn’t just need therapy: I was told he needed PT, ST, OT, and a whole lot of other alphabets. Even his heart had a huge ASD defect.

No one was speaking English any more.

I just wanted to know how to be a mom -- IF I could be a mom -- to a child with Down syndrome. I wanted to him to soar to great heights, and I was being told that he was born without wings. “There must be some mistake,” I thought.

One of the best things that happened to us was that we didn’t know Z-man had Down syndrome for the first 5 months of his life. We knew he had trouble latching on and he was growing slowly, but we didn’t know that it had a name. We just treated him like any other baby. By the time we knew he wasn’t like any other baby, he already knew how to roll over, hold his own head, and he was nursing like a pro. The cardiologist just shook his head and told us to keep doing whatever we were doing, because a child that laughed, rolled, over and grabbed his stethoscope while gaining weight was the exception, not the rule. We determined from that moment that we hadn’t become the parents of a statistic, but a child – and we would let Z-man tell us what that meant.

Yesterday, I walked into the boys’ room and caught my breath. There, on the table – the one with rollers on the feet – was my 4 year old. He wasn’t just standing on the table; he was on his tip toes and reaching over his head to put a toy on the top bunk bed. “Z!” I exclaimed, “There was a time when I wondered if you would run and play like other kids! Now I just want you to not break any bones! Get down from there, NOW!” His face shifted from that of concentrated effort to ‘oops!’ He quickly climbed down, and left the room for other adventures.

When he exited the room, I smiled and began to praise God.

Down syndrome may be his diagnosis, but he’s all boy.

He’s my boy. . . AND he has WINGS!

I've potty trained three boys. All my sons have a flair for creative arts. All my sons like their independence. Today was a day that my youngest son decided to demonstrate his abilities in all three areas at once. *sigh*

Z-man is 4. He is potty trained. He needs a little help with clothing issues and clean up, but that's not a problem. Dry nights happen occasionally, but we aren't 100% there yet. Z-man has Down syndrome, but that wasn't our hurdle today.

Today was the day Daddy happened to be home when Z-man decided (again) that he really didn't like having to ask for help to go to the potty. 'I mean, c'mon Mom. I'm learning the sounds of my letters, how to write, how to count. It's HUMILIATING for a big kid like me to have to ask . . .'

Yesterday, he took himself to go pee. That was a big deal because he is just finally tall enough to stand there like his dad & older brothers. In a way that men understand better than I do, he was feeling quite accomplished and proud.

I was in the kitchen getting lunch. Dad was half-asleep in the recliner. Big brother was working on an art project, and Z-man must have thought it was time to take matters into his own hands . . . literally.

Now, I've encountered this before. I did not handle it well. In fact, I was reduced to a fit of alternating tears and gagging. But, the reality is that I managed to clean up everything and the child without deciding run away from home. By the time my husband got home, I just needed supportive words and a really, really good hug (mingled with sympathetic utterances). Duke was more than equal to the task.

Today, however, as I moved the food around in the pan, "B" (the 7 year old) rushed into the kitchen breathless, "Z has had a REALLY bad accident in our room. It's everywhere!" I washed my hands and wondered if we had lost another pair of underwear down the toilet. That happened once before when Z-man decided that he would take care of an accident the same way Mom did it. Only he forgot to hold onto the underwear which is now in the septic tank.

My thoughts were interrupted by a guttural explosion from my husband. He only knows one language, but it was something more primal than his native English. The emotion was easily understood and I rushed to the noise. I caught enough of a glimpse of the restroom to know that we had a replay of the "I can handle this myself" syndrome. Bits of brown mush covered the toilet seat, lid and sides. I knew without looking that the light switch, door knob, floor, cabinetry and sink (where he attempted to wash his hands) would also be covered.

The new twist to this was the bedroom. (Thank you, Duke for getting that vinyl flooring in there!) Apparently, after trying to take care of things himself in the restroom, Z-man walked back to his bedroom. (Think about the walls, door knobs & light switches that got touched on his way.)

Once arriving in his bedroom (I'm piecing this together from the forensic evidence left behind), he decided that he really should get some clean clothes as he was now bottomless (except for the smearing of brown). The footprints (yes, poopy footprints) went over to the chest of drawers where he began to systematically remove clothing and determine (for whatever reason) that THIS garment wasn't the fashion statement he wanted to make today. Of course, the fact that he only needed bottoms didn't keep him from examining ALL of the clothing in all of the drawers that he could reach. I found finger-marks where he tried for the high drawers, but mercifully, couldn't get to those.

Again, you must imagine that lots of brown is being smeared on AND IN drawers at this point.

As each garment is given the thumbs-down, it is tossed aside with a smudge of brown. Oh, I almost forgot, when he stooped to investigate the lower drawers, a brown butt-print was left on the vinyl. The flinging meant that the walls were now coordinated with the floor and drawers (and his bottom).

I had to take all of this in quickly as at the moment, Duke (big strong man that he is) was coming a bit unglued. It was something between a bark and a wail (as he had never yet encountered Z-man's attempt at bowel independence). I checked in the bathroom and found that Z-man was standing crying in the tub while Duke surveyed the aftermath (he hadn't seen the bedroom yet). Apparently, one glimpse at his father's face was enough to convince Z-man that his activities were not appreciated.

I went to the garage, got a couple of buckets, pulled on my ratty clothes, pulled my hair back and began the process of dePOOPulating the bedroom. Thankfully the surfaces are all washable (YAY!) in there as are those in the bathroom. I could still hear Duke giving Z-man the "You Come and get Mommy or Daddy!" lecture as he attempted to de-brown the child and the room.

We used nearly all of our washrags and at least 5 or 6 bath towels. That coupled with 3/4 of Z-man's entire wardrobe means that we'll be doing lots of laundry tonight.

I thought back to the days following Z-man's diagnosis with Down syndrome. I was a mixture of emotions. One of the predominant emotions was that of the need to fight for my child to have every opportunity to fulfill his greatest potential and have the fullest life he could have. Duke was dealing with things in a much different way. All he could see at the time was a tiny, helpless baby. He looked at me and said, "What happens when you want him to do something -- say climb the stairs -- and he looks at you and says, 'I can't'?"

I paused and responded, "Well, then I'll tell him that the stairs aren't going anywhere, and if he wants to get where he's going, he will have to find another way up them, because the world won't build him any ramps." Duke was still reeling from the information from the doctor, the lab, and the cardiologist. He just looked at me as though I was the most unfeeling person he ever met. The future was too much to contemplate for him. It was all I could think about, because the present was too much for me.

Today, I recalled that conversation and smiled. Z-man didn't ask anyone to help him over the hurdle. Z-man HATES asking for help. He is DETERMINED to climb those stairs BY HIMSELF.

Good heart, Z-man.
Now, about your technique . . .

But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.
But God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit: for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God ~I Corinthians 2:9,10~