Maura’s been doing well so far with the seizure med weaning. This is Week Three, and we’re going down 1 ml per week, so I’m guessing we’re hitting the point where if something’s going to happen, we’re going to start seeing it.
Now I have to knock on wood because I feel like I’m jinxing things.
Okay, wood-knocking over…
Like I said, Maura’s doing well. She’s been chatty still (and chatty enough that friends who hadn’t seen her since January noticed how much more she seemed to be talking), balance is still good, no odd blinky faces. So we’re carrying on with summer – which so far is a combination of watching too much My Little Pony, wandering about the yard playing with dolls, and thinking she can mix up her own things in the kitchen.
So yeah, we’re also now working on “cleaning up the mess you made emptying 14 packets of drink mix onto the counter” and other such things.
Meanwhile, I am still working with a personal trainer, who is still forcing me to curse at him at some point in the work out. But I’ve lost some body fat and gained muscle, and am less wary about hefting Maura off the ground and injuring myself, which is the main point of it all. Now if I could just stop shoving the wrong foods in my face, maybe I can lose more weight. I’m looking at you ice cream and Coca-Cola.
(Disclaimer for if my personal trainer reads this – Josh brought home the ice cream. His excuse was “It’s hot out.” Which it was. The Coca-Cola was my own fault.)
I am also realizing that it’s now been a year since we’ve moved here. It’s still not Ireland, but it’s not a bad place to be either. Especially in the summer. I’m now regretting getting rid of all my shorts while we were in Ireland, because I could have used them this summer so far. I am also still in love with my big American washer and dryer. That has not gotten old yet! I miss the public transport in Dublin, the trains and buses and taxis. I miss the rainbow that constantly appeared behind my house, and our fabulous neighbors next door. I miss old buildings, and the landscape, and the people, and the pace of life. But the other day, as I drove through the sun here, I thought “You know, it’s not so bad here.”
Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go put towels in the big American dryer, where they’ll come out soft and fluffy in forty-five minutes.
Nope, never gets old.