Welcome to the KingZoo and Funny Farm, where we learn to live, laugh, and love together. Here you'll find snippets of life in our zoo, parenting tips we've learned along the way, reflections on shining God's light in this world, passions in the realm of orphan care, and our journey as parents of a visually impaired child with sensory processing disorder. Have fun!

Friday, January 22, 2016

IJK

We made cookies last night and as I was leaving to pick up Shoun from swimming, I asked Eden to please take one to Isaac and then to put the rest on a plate to take into her school for the teachers' luncheon the next day.

Only she heard, "Please put a cookie on a plate and take it to Isaac."

He must have felt quite special to get a cookie on a silver platter. Or styrofoam plate. Same thing, right?

I was a little perturbed to come home to find that the cookies were still on the tray and the plate was gone.

But then I had to smile to think of Isaac enjoying his cookie on a plate. He must have felt like a king.

Maybe it was an early birthday gift.

The child we thought was going to be a girl, so much so that I made the doctor check again when he announced that it was a boy. (True story) That second glance confirmed that this was definitely not Eliza Cynthia.

It took a few hours because The Good Doctor and I have never been good at agreeing on a boy's name. And this time I was insisting that the child be named for me since, I argued, I had been doing all the work of growing and delivering these children but everyone else was getting the credit in the naming process. Starting with Andrew John (for guess who?), then to Jesse Glenn (for my dad, Glenn), and the name that had been waiting through the two boys, Mariana Christine (for her grandmothers, Mary Ann and Christine). But how to make Cindy work for a boy? It wasn't easy and I almost gave up allowing Isaac Christian (named after multiple grandfathers and great-grandfathers and plenty of others far back in all branches of the family tree) until we realized his initials would be ICK. Not exactly a heritage we wanted to wish upon this new little one. Finally, we had it...

We would take my middle name, Joy, change the o to an a (Kind of like changing the y to i and adding es. Only different) and call him Isaac Jay. Remembering that my uncle had the same middle name, solidified the deal. This was the uncle who spent so much time with me when I was little, taking me to amusement parks, letting me make fun of him throwing up even on the mildest rides, and encouraging me through some rough patches of growing up. It felt right.

Isaac Jay King (who thankfully outgrew the nickname Isaac Jaybird King after giving up that toddler   habit of, well, you can guess what that might have been) he was and is.

Not everyone can say their initials arrive in succession in the alphabet. It made learning the alphabet enjoyable as we changed the song to A B C D E F G H Isaac Jay King L M N O P ...

Isaac, our "laughter" and Jay, "to rejoice". Our happy-go-lucky child. The one who finds more reasons to rejoice in life than to be down.

Our baby born with a twinkle in his eye
(until they corrected that blocked tear duct a few years later).

Our teddy bear.

Our musician. (And that's saying a lot in a family of musicians.)

Victor's Buddy.

We hope you have a great day, Isaac Jay! Maybe we'll serve your donut on a silver platter, just for old time's sake.

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