Day 40. Forty. Four zero. Wow! Sounds quite impressive. If I was forty, I'd feel old (I'm still on the uphill 30-something slide... let me enjoy it while it lasts!). That' my Miks. FORTY days old.
Mikayla had a great morning... guzzling back her [ridiculously expensive] formula. She was a happy little camper. The afternoon...not so. She got progressively angrier and angrier.... she guzzles down her food, which then give her winds, but then she wants to suck through the discomfort... more winds. Didn't want to lie down. Didn't want to be held up. Didn't want to be cuddled. Wanted to eat. Didn't want to eat. Just overall pretty cross. Not sure if she's perhaps cross that her mother made her eat the cheap formula this afternoon... or maybe she's got a sore tummy (you know, poo story again)... but she was just angry. In fact, during her 2am feed, she was even shouting at me. Yes, my 5 1/2 week old baby actually SHOUTS at me. It's quite a thing really, being shouted at by your tiny baby. She doesn't cry. She shouts. Such attitude :-)
So, you've all heard this: attitude = altitude.
I decided it should be: perspective = attitude = altitude
Have received so much encouragement from other T-18 mums and dads out there. It's a whole other world, which I never knew existed. Families conquering through their "new normal". Families dealing with tragedies, and small milestones, and even little miracles daily. It makes me wonder why I was so tuned out before? There are people all over the world, probably just on our doorstep, dealing with such enormous decisions and challenges. And yet we can be so oblivious to it! I hope that my eyes are opened to the world around me, that I might reach out and touch those around me.
I read this today, and I liked it:
John 1:16 (NIV)
From the fullness of His grace we have all received one blessing after another. [italics mine]
Perspective people. Perspective.