An open letter to my son, Iron Will, on the occasion of his sixth birthday Dear Will, Six years ago, you came into this world and immediately, without effort, began making it better. That's just who you are. There are people who, had they known you were coming, would have told us your life was a tragedy in the making. That an extra chromosome was a reason for grief. That the hardest road wasn't worth walking. And they would have been wrong. Completely, embarrassingly, irreversibly wrong. Not because your road has been easy — it hasn't always been. Not because you haven't had to work for things that come effortlessly to other kids. You have. But because the measure of a life isn't the absence of difficulty. It's the presence of love. And Will, you have never, not for one single day, been without it. You were made in the image and likeness of God. Full stop. Not partially. Not conditionally. Not pending review. That truth was written into you before the foundation of the world, and no diagnosis, no cultural narrative, no fleeting opinion posted to the internet has the power to edit it. "For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” – Psalm 139:13–14 That's you, son. Knitted together. On purpose. With intention. By a God who doesn't make mistakes and doesn't deal in accidents. What the world calls a burden, we call a blessing. What the world calls a limitation, we call a lens, because you see things the rest of us miss. You love without suspicion. You forgive without keeping score. You show up with your whole heart, every single time, and somehow you make the people around you want to do the same. I've watched grown men — veterans, warriors — go soft at the edges because of you. That's not weakness. That's the strength of presence. Your mother and I didn't just accept you. We chose you, the way every parent chooses their child, and we would choose you a thousand times over. Your brothers and sister would too. Each of them loves you in their own way, and each of their lives is richer because you are in it. We may not have known it before you were born, but this family was waiting for you to complete it. You are Iron Will. We gave you that nickname the day you were born, and six years later, you've more than earned it. Iron is what's in you. We've watched you do the hard work, log the therapy hours, learn the things people said you couldn't, and do it all with a grin that makes the whole room shift. That's not inspiration. That's character. Your character. So here's what I want you to know on your sixth birthday, son: this world needs you in it. Not despite who you are — because of who you are. The world gets better, more honest, more human, more whole when people like you are present in it. Every voice that has ever suggested otherwise was simply wrong about what makes a life worth living. I will spend whatever days God gives me making sure you know that. Making sure the world knows that. And on days when the world gets loud and confused about your worth — and some days it will — your dad will be right here. Immovable. Happy sixth birthday, Iron Will. I love you more than words have ever been built to convey. — Dad #IronWill #DownSyndromeAdvocacy #TeamIronWill #SayYesToPossibility #Personhood #TheLuckyFew

Inspirational Quentin- “I’m A Train”

THAT RIGHT THERE! That “extreme focus, risk, and execution.” That's a part that many are happy to forget.

Today, Elon Musk, a trillionaire, pays the same amount into Social Security as someone making $184,500. If we end that absurdity and lift the cap on taxable income, we can make Social Security solvent for 75 years and expand benefits by $2,400. My Social Security bill does that.

Update on Batty: So my wife had to leave Batty at the vet this morning to get blood drawn, an anti nausea injection, and a urine test. The vet called her about 20 minutes later to let her know that he had a lot of inflammation in his bladder and could see some stones on the ultrasound. Unfortunately , they weren't able to get a urine sample because of the inflammation. His kidney values and everything on his blood work came back good. She recommended we get some x rays done to see if there were big stones that would require surgery, or if it was just small stuff that could get dissolved with a specific urinary diet. We went in a couple hours later and thankfully, there were no big stones. We left with a case of prescription urinary food, some pain meds, and a bag of fluids so we can give him fluids over the weekend. We have to keep him separated so we can monitor if he's eating and urinating. So far, he isn't interested in the prescription food, but hopefully when the anti nausea medicine and the pain med kick in, he'll be more interested. You can see some of the stones/crystals in the picture attached. We will keep everyone updated. The total cost of this vet visit came out to $793.92 If anyone would like to make a donation towards Batty's vet bills or buy food for the sanctuary all of our links are below. Thank you. ❤️ We are a 501c3 non-profit organization. Rescues are always in need of donations and help from the community. If you can, please help support small rescues/sanctuaries by making a donation. With everyone's help, we can change the world for these beautiful critters. Paypal link for link for donations: paypal.com/donate?campaign_i… Venmo: venmo.com/u/Brad-Cline-4 Amazon: amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/3B… Website: Petrichorranchanimalsanctuar…

An open letter to my son, Iron Will, on the occasion of his sixth birthday Dear Will, Six years ago, you came into this world and immediately, without effort, began making it better. That's just who you are. There are people who, had they known you were coming, would have told us your life was a tragedy in the making. That an extra chromosome was a reason for grief. That the hardest road wasn't worth walking. And they would have been wrong. Completely, embarrassingly, irreversibly wrong. Not because your road has been easy — it hasn't always been. Not because you haven't had to work for things that come effortlessly to other kids. You have. But because the measure of a life isn't the absence of difficulty. It's the presence of love. And Will, you have never, not for one single day, been without it. You were made in the image and likeness of God. Full stop. Not partially. Not conditionally. Not pending review. That truth was written into you before the foundation of the world, and no diagnosis, no cultural narrative, no fleeting opinion posted to the internet has the power to edit it. "For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” – Psalm 139:13–14 That's you, son. Knitted together. On purpose. With intention. By a God who doesn't make mistakes and doesn't deal in accidents. What the world calls a burden, we call a blessing. What the world calls a limitation, we call a lens, because you see things the rest of us miss. You love without suspicion. You forgive without keeping score. You show up with your whole heart, every single time, and somehow you make the people around you want to do the same. I've watched grown men — veterans, warriors — go soft at the edges because of you. That's not weakness. That's the strength of presence. Your mother and I didn't just accept you. We chose you, the way every parent chooses their child, and we would choose you a thousand times over. Your brothers and sister would too. Each of them loves you in their own way, and each of their lives is richer because you are in it. We may not have known it before you were born, but this family was waiting for you to complete it. You are Iron Will. We gave you that nickname the day you were born, and six years later, you've more than earned it. Iron is what's in you. We've watched you do the hard work, log the therapy hours, learn the things people said you couldn't, and do it all with a grin that makes the whole room shift. That's not inspiration. That's character. Your character. So here's what I want you to know on your sixth birthday, son: this world needs you in it. Not despite who you are — because of who you are. The world gets better, more honest, more human, more whole when people like you are present in it. Every voice that has ever suggested otherwise was simply wrong about what makes a life worth living. I will spend whatever days God gives me making sure you know that. Making sure the world knows that. And on days when the world gets loud and confused about your worth — and some days it will — your dad will be right here. Immovable. Happy sixth birthday, Iron Will. I love you more than words have ever been built to convey. — Dad #IronWill #DownSyndromeAdvocacy #TeamIronWill #SayYesToPossibility #Personhood #TheLuckyFew

Little X is not a bad rooster. 🐔 But he’s become determined to attack Stella. Stella is our naked neck hen who somehow survived losing her entire flock years ago. Since coming here, she’s mostly kept to herself, laid beautiful pink eggs, and stayed out of trouble. 🥚 Unfortunately, Little X seems convinced she’s a threat. We’ve tried separating them, giving Stella her own space, and making adjustments to keep the peace. Then Little X started flying over the fence to get to her. So today we clipped his wings and hoped to take away his frequent flyer privileges. Homestead life isn’t always collecting eggs and pretty sunsets. Sometimes it’s refereeing chicken drama. 🐓

I test drove one, but it wasn't for me. 😁