How do I begin here? Literally. For starters, I had a blog and my first post was in September 2010. In that post, I shared my firstborn son’s (my biggest boy) birth story. It was a lot like many birth stories, except that his chromosome count totals 47, instead of 46. That’s because my biggest boy, P, has Down syndrome, also known as Trisomy 21, signifying a third chromosome on the 21st pair in every cell of his body. I’m going to publish that original post, if I can figure out how, because it was the first piece of my heart after his birth. My initial, raw emotions. The important thing I want to say about my first post is that my understanding and perspective has grown as my son has grown and because of his life, I can see things differently, and in some ways, better than I did on that day when I first wrote, holding an 8 pound 6-week-old baby, full of love for him and his chromosomes but empty of sleep and searching to find my bearings. My days with P are gifts, even hard moments are times I’d never want removed from our story. I began my blog in those early days to bring positiveness to raising a child with DS. I published a few times and then I quit. I would go back to my blog periodically, but I couldn’t get to a place where I felt like the words I typed had any meaning for anyone other than myself. So, I’d delete and click “logout”. After some time, it occurred to me that the name of my blog didn’t fit like I thought it did in those early days. It was “things unseen”, taken from scripture that actually addresses spiritual warfare, clearly not the same as raising my P. So, I unpublished my old posts and tried to delete the thing so it wouldn’t exist anymore, but I didn’t have time to figure that part out. However, the thing of a blog page continues to weigh on my mind. As does the fact that there are indeed “bad” days and moments in raising my son, a thought I set out to extinguish for the world in my first blog endeavor, hoping my efforts would save some mother out there from not wanting to give her baby a chance. My limited-to-6-years mothering experience with P and my littlest boy has led me to this thought: there are good days and bad days with any child, even children with Down syndrome who are stereotypically “always happy”; HOWEVER, the fact that there are even “days” of any kind with that child is a precious gift. A gift for some that ends way too soon without a warning at all. So, with that in mind, here I am. Sharing my honesty. Sharing my experience, not intended to be the same as yours. And sharing my biggest, bright boy. My bright boy probably isn’t like your bright boy or girl, and that’s ok. After all, he’s mine. Navigating the day-in, day-out events in raising a child with needs a little different from other kids is well, different. But it’s also unifying. Because there’s a whole community of parents out there who know from experience that daycares and schools are not one-size-fits-all. And that finding the perfect toy for your child’s birthday doesn’t always mean you go by the manufacturer’s recommended age level. And that the best kids’ shoe brand is the one that has a footbed wide enough for the brace to fit in it. And the parents who know all these things and more stick together. To encourage each other. To give a warm smile when everyone else stares. And to share experiences. Not because we are all the same, Heavens, no. But because regardless of our paths, we know the joy that comes in the road less-traveled and the nuggets of wisdom that are gained through differences. I won’t please everyone, but I will share about being “Mommy” to my bald, bright, and beautiful P and our days together, along with his dad and his brother.