MSI Press Blog

  We thought the hamster era would be fun. Noelle adored animals—especially hamsters. So we got her a pair from the pet store, not realizing they were male and female. Nature took its course. Babies arrived. We figured it would be a sweet experience for Noelle: watching them grow, learning about life. But one baby didn’t grow. It had three legs. And the mother killed it—right in front of Noelle. We weren’t prepared. Not for the brutality. Not for the questions. Not for the heartbreak of explaining that in the wild, animals don’t have the means to help their disabled young survive. They do what nature tells them to do. And nature isn’t always kind. Noelle was four. She didn’t have three legs, but she had two legs that didn’t work. She asked, “Would the hamster mother have killed me?” And the answer, of course, was yes. We couldn’t lie. Covering up the truth would have been as cruel as telling it. So we told her. And she sobbed. And sobbed. And sobbed. Nothing we said could ...

  Precerpt (excerpt from book prior to publication):  Raising God's Rainbow Makers  (Mahlou)   I once thought of Shane as my most “ordinary” child. He was a late walker, a late talker, and content to observe the world quietly. But when he began reading at 23 months—likely earlier, if I’m honest—I had to revise that assumption. He wasn’t slow. He was simply unfolding on his own timeline. When the fall semester began in 1980, Shane had just turned three. I was deep into my doctoral work at the university, which had a well-regarded lab school with a preschool program. Perfect, I thought. Lizzie was in elementary school, Noelle was thriving in a special needs preschool, and Shane had spent the previous year in a different center alongside her. This setup would be convenient: drop Shane off, climb the hill to my classes, and reunite at day’s end. On his first day, we parked in the graduate student lot and counted the 100 stairs up to the lab school together. Shane knew ...

   Precerpt (excerpt from book prior to publication):  Raising God's Rainbow Makers  (Mahlou) During Shane’s first year, we thought he might be slow. Not in spirit, but in milestones. He didn’t walk. He didn’t talk. And we had what felt like objective reasons to worry. He didn’t walk until he was over two years old—on the very first day he was separated from Noelle, his older sister by one year, at day care. Noelle, paraplegic and waiting for surgery to fit braces, couldn’t walk either. She couldn’t even stand without falling with a thud. But she was fiercely protective of Shane. Every time he tried to pull himself upright, she’d caution him: “No, no, Naney.” And he’d sit back down, scooting on his bottom with hands on ankles, just like her. They looked like little crabs scuttling across the house—synchronized, bonded, beautiful. He didn’t talk, either. His first word came at six months, tumbling out of him as he tumbled down the stairs (a gate failure, a parenting f...

Precerpt from  Raising God’s Rainbow Makers (Mahlou) How Noelle Got Her Name When Noelle was born, Lizzie was four—our only child at the time, waiting at home with the babysitter while her baby sister was being airlifted 250 miles south to San Antonio for urgent care. Noelle had arrived with spina bifida, and the specialized treatment she needed wasn’t available in San Angelo. We were part of the hippie generation, drawn to names that danced outside the lines. So we chose  Anemone Esther —a name as delicate and wild as a sea flower, full of meaning to us. We filled out the birth certificate with care, believing we’d chosen something beautiful. But when we got home and told Lizzie her sister’s name, she burst into tears. “You can’t name her that,” she sobbed. “I hate it.” We asked why. “Because I can’t say it!” she wailed. Fair enough. So we asked her what name she’d choose. “Noelle,” she said promptly. “I like Christmas music.” And just like that, Anemone Esther became Noelle....