Don’t feel sorry for me; I’m happier than I’ve ever been.
A few months back I was wrapping up a meeting with a potential client, when the topic of children came up. I mentioned the blog and its title (“clever,” she said) and how it became even more apt when I learned of Aisha’s Down Syndrome diagnosis.
Her brow furrowed in concern and she reached out to touch my arm.
“Oh, your daughter has Down’s? I’m so sorry…” Read more
What is she? Cute as a button, that’s what!
When we’re oot ‘n’ aboot, my daughter’s appearance garners many inquisitive stares. Because of her fair complexion and silken hair, passersby sometimes try to discern without asking outright if there’s a familial connection. Aisha has inherited my prominent forehead and mischievous expressions, so more often than not, they realize that she’s mine. And since it’s pretty obvious that she is of mixed race, people often really want to know which one(s).
It’s because of her eyes.
Yeah…I’m good, thanks.
I have an acquaintance who had a baby, like, a minute ago, and she has suddenly become the rather insufferable Expert Of All Things Baby-Related (EATBR).
From aspirators to zinc cream, she is constantly dispensing advice on which brand/size/colour/flavour/version of a technique, product or service is best. I wouldn’t find her so annoying if this was her fifth of sixth child (in fact, then she would have earned the title of EATBR, and I might be inclined to take a note or two). But alas, this is her first babe, her first shot at parenthood – likely the first time in her life she’s ever heard the terms colostrum, gripe water or swaddle.
And yet, somehow, miraculously, after having barely just squeezed progeny from her loins, she has earned her Level Nine Grand Wizardress of Knowledge badge, entitling her to spew nuggets of wisdom on other, hapless first-time moms-to-be.
Like me. Read more
this wasn't in the manual 