I suppose every mother has her bad day as well as good; I am no exeption.

The day I found out Brady Michael was born with problems was probably the worst day of my life.  Any dreams or expectations I had for him immediately died when Dr. Prentiss told me that he was born with brain damage and would probably never walk or talk.

Yet I was determined to help Brady in any way I possibly could.  I wanted Brady to have a full and happy life.  I decided to keep him home; I didn't want strangers taking care of him: I would do it myself, no matter what the cost.  I figured that since I was Brady's mother, I owed him that much.

I have not regretted my decision one bit.  Deciding to have Brady home where I could care for his needs was probably the best thing I had ever done, not only for him, but for myself.

Brady Michael is now six years old, a beautiful little boy with a sweet, pink-cheeked, angelic face, a thatch of dark brown, nearly black, hair, intense brown eyes that miss very little, and a killer megawatt smile that can light up an entire room.  He is gorgeous: a perfect replica of my husband, Brandon, in miniature.

Brady, at six, cannot walk: he is in a wheelchair, yet he refuses to let that stop him.  He loves to "dance", sing, read, watch cartoons (Spongebob Squarepants is his favorite, much to my annoyance; he also lvoes Caillou, Arthur, and the classic Bugs Bunny cartoons I grew up with when I was his age), play with his sister Carmyn Hope (she's nine), and go to school (he just completed kindergarten; he wll be in the first grade come September).

When he grows up, Brady wants to sing on the Grand Ole Opry.  he loves all music really, but country music is his favorite.  He adores Toby Keith and Leeann Womack.

Camryn is fiercely protective of her little brother.  She will defend him, even to the point of getting into fist fights with other kids if they tease him.  I tell her violence is never the answer, but I admire the protective streak she possesses inside, especially as far as her little brother's welfare is concerned.

In addition to the above, Brady also plays baseball.  He plays on a special league for children with disabilities and he absolutely loves it.  He has made many friends and has opened up socially; he handles himself quite well in just about any social situation, much more readily than most kids his age.

I don't know what the future holds for Brady, but one thing is certain: the world is his oyster; the sky is the limit!  I am very proud of my precious baby boy, and I am very grateful and blessed to be his mother!  I just love Brady Michael so much!!