Funny thing….I watch other babies, ones I know who’ve grown up for the last year alongside my son. These babies walk. And before that they crawled. My lovely little cherub boy, who’s skin is like milk and face like a pumpkin, cannot not crawl; it will be many more months before he walks.

I don’t dwell on this. We go merrily through the day, plucking away at little achievements. I relish his little "baby-ness." Most days I plow right through any sadness about my son’s floppy muscles.

I vacillate between wanting to keep my child in the realm of a regular old life, but I have to keep this thing, this Syndrome, sitting there in the passenger seat. It doesn’t drive our life, but it rides along everywhere we go.

In the hospital, as I watched Addison fight for his life in an incubator, the doctor told me that a child with Down Sydrome was a gift. I wanted to hit her. I thought she was placating me so that I didn’t feel so bad because not only did my son have Down Syndrome, but he’d also just been diagnosed with a very serious bacterial infection and would have to stay in the hospital another week. All the books on Down Syndrome seemed to pound in the fact there would be so many things my son wouldn’t be able to do. Or, will do themso much later than other children. Instead of a baby, I felt like I had given birth to a demographic group. I quit reading them all.

Last night, Addison and I read a book about animals. He pointed to all the creatures with his cute little chubby finger and said “OOhh, ba ba ba – ta ta ta.” Then, I squeezed him into all sorts of yoga positions, and then we moved right into exercises to help him crawl. We topped off the night with a round of peek-a-boo. He held the cloth in front of his face, paused a moment, and then pulled it away. We laughed and did this until he fell backwards on a pillow from exhaustion.

Funny thing….Having a child with Down Syndrome is different, but having a girl is different from a boy and twins different from triplets and a child with diabetes is different from a child without sight. I glance at the books now, but I keep them at a safe distance. I read them when I need guidance and occasionally order a new one I see that interests me. I believe each child comes with a life changing lesson for us adults, if we’re willing to listen. My daughter has taught me to let go. Addison teaches me patience. He’s really the one in the driver’s seat. But, then again, what baby isn’t?

Funny thing…one of the hardest parts of dealing with trisomy 21 (Down Syndrome) is the physical end of it. After 15 months of lifting and hauling my son everywhere – in slings, backpacks, on my hip, and over my shoulder – I finally went out and got a walker. I think they may be outlawed in the States, but not here.

I saw contraptions so cheap I wasn’t sure they’d safely hold a loaf of bread. You can find high-healed women’s shoes everywhere, but this walker took some searching. I often end up running around to several stores when I need something specific. There’s no Target in , so one-stop shopping can be more difficult.

Addison’s weight is also much more floppy, like dead weight. His body is just beginning to be a little stiffer when I pick him up. I always have to have two hands to carry him because he slips off me, like I’m loosing the grip on a greased watermelon, if I don’t.

I struggled with the idea of getting the walker thing. Some physical therapists advise against such mechanisms, but my son favors rolling everywhere and "scooching" backwards. This makes it hard to go anywhere with him and allow him the freedom to move around on his own. He gets stepped on.

Placing him in the walker is hard. His legs curl up when I try to insert him, and I have to hunch over so long, I begin to sweat. He’s learned to push backwards in just a day and a little bit forward. He still prefers rolling around, and ultimately it’s the best movement for his mind/body connection.

I’m a mom with a full plate, and this contraption gives me a break. I was a purist “natural” mom with my first child. I would have judged others using these kinds of contraptions. But after my struggles, failures, and lessons as a parent, I see others now on a path, just like I am. We’re often left too alone with children. Aunts, grandmas, relatives - all live too far away. Raising children is not meant to be a solitary activity.

I’ve learned to give mothers applause where maybe years I would have judged them for use of a pacifier or a stroller. We’re all trying to raise kids in a world where we can be anywhere tomorrow, but often find ourselves alone today.