More cake, please.

The best things in life are, well, whatever makes us happy. Right? Now people can actually get into debates regarding what is the best thing in life; children, family, mocha lattes, laughter, or even money. Depending on who you are, and what is most important to you. Freedom to choose; maybe that's the best thing in life?

I am reminded just now of the movie City of Angels. Now I used to be a huge Nicholas Cage fan, especially when that movie was released, but not so much anymore. However, it is still a really great movie. As sad as it is, I like the scene where Cage's character is waiting along side a little girl unseen as doctors fight furiously to save her life. As he and the little girl walk away to go "home", he asks her what the best part (of life) was. She answered without a tone of doubt in her voice "pajamas". I like pajames too...

Now no matter what we have chosen for ourselves at the moment as the best thing in life (because of course it is always changing from one mood to the next), it is never ending. We as human beings always want more, regardless if it is good or bad. We work because we want more money. We want more money because we want a bigger house, or perhaps more family vacations. We want more family vacations because we want more time with the people we love.

We want more time with people we love because those people will not be here with us forever.

So maybe I was wrong, my best thing in life can come to an end.

Nevertheless, the question is always "more please?". I love hearing my little boy ask "more pweese!" with more of a demanding tone than asking. We are working on it :) Right now I want him to go potty on the big toilet and tootsie rolls are my bribes and his rewards of choice. For some reason he believes the only toilet he can use is the one at daycare. Silly boy.

I wonder if his 3-year old mind (well almost 3, next month!) would be able to understand the question "what's the best part of life?" I would not be surprised if he yelled out tootsie rolls, or perhaps "Nay Nay". He cannot pronounce his own name, which is Paighton, so he calls himself Nay Nay. I have been teaching him to think of himself as perfect. I know that may be a little weird, but it is important to me. Growing up, I had a lot of self esteem issues and was very cruelly teased by some of my classmates. I do not want him to experience what I had to go through, in a Christian school might I add! I ask him once in awhile if he is perfect. He always responds yes. Or if I rephrase the question, asking "who is perfect?" and he slams his tiny little hand on his chest and says "Nay Nay!" with great confidence. I am proud that he loves himself.

My little boy is perfect! Both of them...

Going still along the topic of more, like I had mentioned before that more isn't always a good thing. If you think for a second, somewhere around the world there is at least one baby being born every second. That's a lot of babies. But with life comes, too, death. There is always something about to happen whether death by accident, or death by old age. Neither of which are easy especially for those of us that are left behind trying to find answers of why.

I would like to think that the Circle of Life flowed as such: for every baby that is a born, a very old and well lived adult passes away. The Bible speaks of people with ages well over 100, even more. I'd like to see all people all over be given the chance to have lived a full life. Anything short of 90 I think is too soon. 89 perhaps? Nope, still too soon...

I learned yesterday of a little girl's birthday tomorrow. Another case of Triploidy. Only thing here is she was even more uncommon than my little Elijah. See, back in 1996 Triploidy was not heard of by very many doctors. Even the specialists didn't know much about it. Still to this day, my doctors didn't seem to know much except that fact that Triploidy is life threatening and babies cannot live outside of their mothers' wombs. Most die within; very few make it just in time to say hello. My doctors didn't want anything to do with me. In fact, I feel they tricked me into inducing early. They said I was severely preclamptic and very sick. Sure I didn't feel well, but I didn't think I was that sick. After everything was said and done, a few weeks later I received the doctors' final reports, we had requested this. In it I read "mild preclampsia". It wasn't until half a year later did it hit me, wait... they lied to me! I could have, and would have, continued longer with the pregnancy. I wanted to reach Elijah's due date, or at least get to August. August is a very special month for my family as it is when we got married, bought our first house, and Paighton was born. We even planned Elijah's conception to make his birthday fall somewhere in August.

So tomorrow is a birthday; on July 23rd 1996 a little girl named Sarah Jayne reached her due date; a huge triumph for any Triploidy baby. Sadly she was stillborn on this date, but she still deserves a birthday.

Tomorrow I will teach Paighton to sing "Happy birthday cake Baby Sarah" to honor another small wonder taken too soon but loved forever. He loves singing and most of all he loves birthday cake!

~My son Elijah, You have more friends with you than I know.
Mommy and Daddy loves you...~