My Little Painter

February 02, 2010

My Little Painter

Oliver's teacher sent me this photo last week. I adore it. I cannot adequately explain how precious this photo is to me. Here is my little boy sitting so nicely, participating in a class activity, and enjoying it. Waverly used to love to color and paint. Now Oliver is developing the same love for painting.

Comments

Anonymous said…

Oliver the artist, Hooray!

February 2, 2010 at 4:37 PM

The Leivas said…

So precious!

February 2, 2010 at 6:13 PM

Jaime Arnett said…

Hi Shannon, I just wanted to thank you for sharing your life with all of us. I know that it is theraputic for you, but you have blessed me and my family in so many ways too! You and Matt and your sweet babies are in our thoughts and prayers every day.
~jaime arnett (friend of Christina Scott)

February 3, 2010 at 10:44 AM

Anonymous said…

I suspect that they get their creativity from you!

February 3, 2010 at 11:26 AM

Misty said…

Love it!

February 3, 2010 at 12:14 PM

Anonymous said…

What a great photo! So glad his teachers are quick enough to catch these special moments for Mom and Dad to enjoy, and that the photo came at a time when you really needed that "up". Continuing to pray for you and your family:)

Julie
London

February 3, 2010 at 12:28 PM

Jenkins said…

He looks so grown up!
Hooray for paint!

February 5, 2010 at 9:21 AM

Jennie said…

Also, that looks to be a pretty amazing dinosaur shirt. :)

February 8, 2010 at 12:50 AM

Welcome to Holland

By Emily Perl Kingsley

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland.""Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.