Leo Clement

Aren't there just a whole lot of wonderful adjectives in the thesarus for "determined?" When in doubt, learn new words...especially words that send strength shivering down through your body! And though we might be shivering around here lately with winter popping its shaggy head out around the corner and sticking out its tongue at us, however, we are ready for it. This year, winter won't get me down. (Big words eh?) Anyway I am determined, undaunted, and resolved that this coming new year will only hold good things for us. At least I am tenacious enough to block out any other thoughts from my head. Although the odds have always been against us, we do seem to strike the jack-pot in anything Leo related. For instance: This week as things steadily got more frozen outside, our little house has been warmed up by Leo's light speed progress. He is sitting unsupported for long periods and if he does fall over, it's only because he felt like it, or someone happene

I realized the other day, in a conversation with a friend, that not everyone has followed Leo's changing, sometimes confusing and baffling, but always astounding development through out his life so far. And by development, I guess I mean his story; the heart of the matter, or hows, whys, whens of the story. So in summation, here is exactly, though briefly, what happened a year ago. When Nika turned three, we decided that we missed having a baby around the house, and decided to do something about it. We found out about the new baby on Christmas 2009. It was one of the best Christmas presents ever. After a couple harrowing weeks of feeling like the dog's nappy chew toy, I started feeling better and life was blooming. Not so with the weather. For all my complaining about winter, the unpredictable snows actually saved us a lot of grief. I never made it to my 20 week ultrasound because of a storm, and then never got around to rescheduling it. The babe in my belly was happy, and so

You know what I love? I love those moments when something that I've been struggling with; a problem or an idea that isn't quite right, and then suddenly, usually when I am thinking about something totally different days later, the right answer will plop into my brain like a cheerfully bouncing Jell-O. Or maybe it's like that phenomenon when you find those lost keys only after you have turned the whole house upside down, accused everyone around you, and had new ones made. So in the middle of all this seizure trauma with Leo, when our minds have been far from it, Leo has learned to sit up and say "mama." Forget the keys, this is more like finding your wallet that you lost years ago and seeing that the driver's license pic of you at 17 wasn't as bad as you thought, and that the hundred dollar bill in there is in pristine condition. Even though all his therapists encouraged us into thinking that there is no reason why he won't reach those milestones,

Saturday evening we ended up in the hospital. I went to get Leo up from his nap and though he smiled at me when he saw me, I still freaked out. The left side of his body was jerking uncontrollably. I grabbed him, and tried to will the seizure to stop, but it wasn't stopping. Within five minutes we were headed to the ER. Even though they had given us an emergency diastat kit way back when Leo first started having seizures I decided to not even fiddle with it, since the dose was meant for a smaller baby. As it turned out, they had to give him two doses of Ativan through an IV to get the seizure to stop. At that point, it had been going on for an hour. When it finally stopped, Leo just tuned out. He fell asleep and managed to stay asleep through an X-Ray of his shunt, and another quickbrain MRI. Because the seizure was so long, he lost control over his left arm for an hour, which we were told can happen in these circumstances. Finally we heard back that his shunt is working perfectl

I knew there was a reason that I spent all that time and money on art school. I just knew it would pay off. Eventually. Somehow or other. In very small yet very significant ways? Well regardless of practicality or not, having an artistically trained eye isn't such a bad thing. Like when you try to formulate and understand things like the sizes of body parts. Take for example proportions: the classical proportion head to toe ratio calls for at least seven heads to make up a body, or depending on which time period perhaps even nine or ten. Heck, in barbie's freakishly abnormal body you can measure at least twelve heads! (If not more, but who really has the time to sit around and figure out barbie's proportions? Not me!) Ahem.. As you can imagine, a baby's proportions is very different from an adult. In addition to having spindly little arms like a t-rex, they are born with huge heads. At least in comparison to an adult ratio. So you can only imagine what the rati

Have you ever wondered why we humans always need to know the reasons for things? The whys and the hows of everything around us is essential for our brains to function. The moment anything out of the ordinary happens, what is the first thing that we do? We come up with an explanation. Once we have done that, then we feel relieved. Whew! Now that we know, or think that we know, we can continue on with life. Take for example, the things that moms and dads were told thirty years ago about their children with spina bifida. Doctors faced with shattered parents demanding answers probably pulled out the first thing that entered their collective heads. "Well, it was probably a bad potato." Umm, really? A freaking potato caused my baby's spine malformation? Unfortunately not everyone is blessed with such a skeptical mind as mine, and many mothers blamed their potato gratins for all their child's woes. This was thirty plus years ago and since then the medical community has ruled