Thursday, October 03, 2002

Dale: Finally. Able to come up for air--the motion response has been filed. Heather should be able to breathe tomorrow--after the last of her parent-teacher conferences. Two evenings in a row, and boy, isn't that fun. Heather says that the great, sad irony of the PTCs is that she never sees the parents she needs to see. Makes tragic sense, when you think about it.

Tonight, then, it's me and the Nugget again. She was in good spirits most of yesterday, and I hope tonight's the same. She has an endless fascination with the dog's dishes, though. We haven't quite been able to break the hold it has over her. But at least we haven't been fishing dog food chunks out of her mouth with the same depressing regularity... [Memo to self: bookmark this blog for Maddie's high school graduation.]

She keeps pointing and "Wuz zat"-ing everything in sight. She seems especially dubious of my naming of the refrigerator. Apparently the word offends her infant sensibilities. She's even started asking that question of my eyes. Thank God I wear glasses.

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