brain frizzle my shizzle

Maple woke me up at 5 this morning with her "oohs" and "ahs." She is really adorable when she does that but this morning I really wanted to sleep. No such luck. Now we are sitting in the living room, her in her vibrating chair and me on the couch, slightly obsessing over my fried brain.

After a little bit of internet research, I now know that my initial understanding of how steroids work in an attack was wrong. It is better to treat the attack sooner for better outcome, and the longer you wait, the less recovery you'll have. When I was diagnosed, it was my understanding that the steroids just helped you get better faster, but they didn't really change the outcome. This was a hard lesson, since I think waiting did some irreversible damage. Although I am a lot better than I was a few weeks ago, it's still difficult to speak sometimes, and my cognition has definitely been affected. I'm trying to stay positive, but I think it's unlikely I'll go back to "normal." I can definitely live with the amount of change or disability I have now, but it's sad to think about what might have been if I'd acted sooner. Live and learn and frizzle my shizzle.

Maple is doing great. She is growing like crazy and is still as sweet as ever. It's fun to watch her get more complex in her cries and moods. She is getting better with her hands -- more precise as she grabs for things, like my hand or my other nipple. Last night she grabbed her first inanimate object -- a rubber ducky that's been taunting her from the bathroom shelf for weeks. It was so precious, watching her hand land on ducky's head and feel the curves of the tacky plastic.

She likes to be held upright a lot, especially after eating, when she is most likely to spit up. Sometimes I don't get how she grows so much, when she loses about a third of her food.

And Maple loves books. She loves hearing me read and looking at the pictures. Last night we read a book that Papa picked out about a whooping crane who has nothing to wear to a fancy tea party. She smiled at the crane's crazy outfits, and even let out a proto-laugh. Although I know she doesn't understand the concept of having nothing to wear. Maple is a true clothes whore. What kind of high maintenance chick changes outfits three times a day?