Today John gave Wesley his name and blessing in church. Here’s a family photo taken this evening of all three of us:

Here’s Wes doing tummy time at six weeks old.

And here he is today, fifteen weeks old.

He’s getting big, huh?

Can you see our most treasured Christmas gift under the tree??

Today was Wesley’s first Christmas, but I have to say he didn’t seem to care all that much. We opened our gifts to each other while he napped. When he woke up we fed him and made ourselves a nice steak lunch, during which he fell asleep again. When he woke up this time we managed to help him open the gifts he received from relatives before he dozed off again. He wasn’t terribly interested in the actual opening of presents, but he really likes the books his aunt Tara gave him, and his mom really likes the clothes his Grandma Holt gave him.

Really, this is pretty much all Wes did today:

After dinner tonight we took some gifts around to our neighbors. Because it’s so cold outside we bundled up Wes in a blue fleece snowsuit that makes him resemble a blue polar bear. He–surprise, surprise–fell asleep in my arms as we made our rounds, so when we came home I just dumped him (gently) into his crib. And there he’s been ever since. I keep checking on him, just to see how cute he looks in his polar bear suit. He usually has his arms thrust in front of him in some unnatural-looking way, which is funny to me. How can that be comfortable? His physical therapist says it’s good that he’s willing to lift his hands up against gravity like he does, because a lot of Downs babies don’t bother. But this kid sleeps with his arms straight up in the air. His muscle tone can’t be all that bad.

Wesley loves baths. Or, at least, he doesn’t scream through them. It’s still a little hard to gather much emotion from him aside from “I’m hungry” or “I’m tired.” He’s starting to smile occasionally, but not every day and only when we give him the right stimulus. Tonight, amazingly, I happened to give him just the right tickle at just the right time as I snapped this photo:

On Sunday I had my first experience with someone saying unkind things about Down syndrome and my son. It was the type of thing where I know that the kid (he’s twelve) who said what he said did so out of ignorance and cockiness. He might have even been trying to impress the girl next to her, which shows how immature he is. Even so, it really hurt. It hurt worse than I thought it would. I realized I’m not ready for anyone to imply that my son is less than anyone else, that he’s weird, that he’s alien-like, that he’s different. I can’t handle it yet.

It happened during the Sunday School class that I teach (it’s a tough crowd, that class), and afterward I pulled the kid aside, alone, and told him that he needs to be more respectful and what he said is completely inappropriate. Nonetheless, I couldn’t hold back my tears afterwards.

I guess eventually I’ll have it together enough that other people’s comments won’t phase me. But I’m still adjusting to Wesley’s Down syndrome myself. Most adults are understanding; kids are another story. It’s probably no coincidence that a month before Wes was born John gave me a priesthood blessing in which I specifically remember being told that I needed to have patience, both with my kids and with the people who interact with my kids. It didn’t mean much to me at the time, but now I can really see the wisdom and reality in those words.

On a brighter note, here’s a picture of Wes asleep in my arms.

Just a picture of what it’s like outside our windows these days.