Answers and Direction

We saw a neurologist and speech pathologist today. After a review of all his records, my milestone timeline built off all our videos, and careful evaluations of our boy, the experts believe it was the unfortunate timing of his illness and temporary deafness, and our unique family circumstances, and perhaps some rapid development in other parts of his brain, that caused his language and speech delays.

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Ripped

Showing off some skin and side boob in Delaware in 2014.

Question #1076: Have you ever had anything waxed, if so, what?

Yes.

I had a rose dipped in wax at a Renaissance festival in Ohio my senior year in high school. I remember it started flaking on the bus ride home. I’ve also had paraffin wax poured over my hands and feet as part of various spa treatments over the years.

And I’ve been known to nonchalantly play with melted candle wax — usually while waiting for my food or drinking wine — sloshing it around the burning candle wick, dipping or shaping the wax with my fingers, scraping it off the sides of the container.

But that’s not what this question is really about, is it?

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Head Space

Question #850: What do you do when you want to get out of your own head?

My head space is so cluttered. And I am the first to admit, most of the things that take up space in my head probably aren’t necessary. If expert organizer Marie Kondo could take a peek inside of it, she would probably gracefully shake her head, and politely ask, “What of this sparks joy for you?”

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Mini Me

The other night, Martin was pretty animated as he told us about the gear he purchased for his upcoming marathon hike around the Swabian Alps. He wasn’t aware that Junior was behind him, mimicking him.

Laughing. Raising his hands. Shaking his head. Jibbering.

Laughing some more, just like Martin.

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It’s the Simple Things

Question #309: In the haste of your daily life, what are you not remembering?

I saw this question, and knew I would use it for today, the 18th anniversary of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks. I posted twice on this blog on the actual day of those attacks, and shared further memories about that day and how it shaped the rest of my life many times here over the years.

So this will not be a rehash about the particulars of that day, but such an anniversary is a timely reminder that life is precious and can be snuffed out in ways that are slow and silent, or quick and violent. The cliche rings true: every day is a gift.

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Girl Power

She’s on a new soccer team this year. One of only two girls. It’s a more competitive league, and the practices have been brutal. She comes home from them exhausted, our shower lined with dirt from the field when she is done. Today was their first tournament.

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Still Life

Waiting Room Table: a Still Life. For a society obsessed with privacy, zee Germans have such a weird way of handling medical appointments and prescriptions. One has to announce and describe to the admin behind the front desk, and to everyone else in range, in explicit and repetitive detail, exactly what is happening to your body and why you have arrived to spend time in their office. Such conversation is then repeated to the pharmacist downstairs.

I shall bring earplugs next time. I don’t want to know.

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