Totoro, blender, teeth.

Jeremy wanted me to critique a webinar that he gave earlier in the week. Not for content, but for the web camera part. He (like many other people) has spent a lot of time optimizing his work-from-home webcam/microphone/lighting set up over the past 4/5/endless months. It’s constrained mostly by availability of various desirous electronic components which are in high demand, but (I hope) also constrained by our relative cheapness. He’s trying to get the Honda Accord hybrid of mics/cameras and not the Tesla versions which I think there might be higher availability because of the higher price point. So there he is wearing his Zoom shirt and Zoom tie..though I think the Zoom tie was making its debut appearance. The Zoom shirt is used everyday. Same one. Taken on and off for an hour at a time (though once he started undressing while the camera was still on and a considerate co-worker texted him to tell him he was unbuttoning in front of everyone). Jeremy asked me if his head appeared too large. I thought his head size was fine, but he was never looking directly at the camera which is slightly annoying to me, but he said that that was hard to do while navigating the slides. And I was like – you sure you want Totoro in the background? I mean, I don’t think anyone else has Totoro in their background. And Totoro is as big as your head. Jeremy said that everyone absolutely loves the Totoro and that he can explain that he’s working in his daughter’s room. I said – ok, if you insist on the Totoro, then you need to get the glare off of the glass in the picture frame.

I came home last night after a hard shift and Jeremy was making dinner for me and he found this blender completely sheared of its blades. Jeremy cursed Vince’s name to the sky. I was like – we’ll just have to throw it away. And then Jeremy found the replacement part for $10 which is on its way to us. This morning when Vince was awake, I asked him if he noticed that he broke the blender. I broke the blender? he asked. I showed him the evidence. He said – oh, I usually make smoothies in the dark and I did notice some black stuff when I put it back into the cabinet. I’m like – did your smoothie smooth? And he said – yes! It got done and it was delicious. (It was a wedding blender, I’m pretty sure).

I, of course, saved the worst news for last. It’s hard to follow this story – but this is our 6th dental-related appointment so far trying to find someone to help us – we are now two months out from Edda’s initial dental trauma. This was an oral/facial surgeon referred to us by a UMD dental clinic. This surgeon (very nice) recommended that the teeth get pulled. This was something that I wasn’t really prepared to hear so I was a little knocked over. But I recovered nicely (at least I thought so – which means (in my mind) that I did not spend the rest of the afternoon crying, but I think I actually was able to do some more work after I got home)). She thought that splinting the teeth would not go well because the teeth are not in the original position and are too loose and she would have recurring problems that would come from Edda’s incessant teeth grinding and possible increase in seizures. She could do the extraction in the office, but not in a hospital setting and she could not do any extra dental work (cleaning, sealants, fillings, etc) at the same time. She recommended the UMD dental school (where Jeremy had tried to make an appointment at about two weeks ago, but the phone tree ended where it would just hang up on you arbitrarily no matter which buttons you pushed). So – we have 2 appointments next week. One at the Children’s dental clinic and then another one at the UMD dental school (success at phone tree!). You know, you have that initial, terrible loss at the beginning when you get the Rett Syndrome diagnosis. But then what follows are little (or not so little) losses everyday that can be heartbreaking too. It’s vain, right? What’s Edda going to look like missing two front teeth? For sure stranger than she looks now. Does it even matter? She’s so far off normal, that who cares about two more teeth. I’m not a vain person, I never craved for my children to be “beautiful” in the traditional way. But Edda minus two front teeth makes me sad.

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