Summer

Eyes and lips

At the end of the seventh month.

The sweetest

We're packing up to head out to CA for two weeks, so we put the kids down in our bed at the beginning of the night so we could pack their stuff (they usually start out in their own beds and only end up in ours before the end of the night). As soon as I slipped a sleeping Nico by Zoë's side, she put her arm around him, snuggled him close, and kissed his fat cheek, then went right to sleep as if that's all she had been waiting for. There's not much sweeter than those two cuddling little bodies in a giant bed. I may have just come upon a way solution to Zoë climbing in bed with us . . . put Nico to bed with her!

Zoë's party

This year, Zoë requested a ballerina birthday party.

So I made a ballerina cake (after Josh drew it for me)

and I made a tutu (time consuming but easy, it turns out)

Zoë was pretty excited.

And was happy to have Alex by her side throughout the evening. (We kept the party small this year since it's one of the last that we'll be able to get away with that!)

My favorite part of the party was when Zoë tried on her new ballerina shoes for the first time and immediately--with no prompting--stood on her toes. We'd never talked about that before and I don't know where she had seen it, but she definitely knew what ballerinas do!

Her big present this year was a wooden kitchen (which I happened to find new and over 50% off at Kid to Kid). She has happily cooked several wooden meals since.

Directionally Dyslexic

I could start this post with so many stories--like the one where I set out to walk around the block of my hotel in Lucerne and ended up in another city altogether or the time that I wandered around downtown Santiago (Dominican Republic) in the pouring rain for a good two hours before finding the main square where I was supposed to meet my dad. But doing so could be deceptive because you might think that it's easy to get lost in a foreign country, that doing so doesn't take any special skill.

Here is what takes a very particular type of brain: getting lost on the way to a friend's house that you've been to once before (forgivable), then leaving that house, driving down a grand total of two streets (that's one turn) for five minutes, remembering a forgotten camera, and getting lost again on the way back to her house. That's what happened to me tonight. And it's similar to what happens to me pretty much every time I drive somewhere remotely unfamiliar (and, I'll admit, even sometimes places that ought to be familiar).

I've long suspected that I have a disorder when it comes to directions. But tonight, as I drove with a three-year-old who consistently asked me if I knew where to go and suggested that I call someone to find out, I began analyzing this disorder more closely. It feels like a lack of visual memory or an inability to mentally organize things spatially coupled with a difficulty in recognizing visual landmarks. I'm good with maps and can make sense of locations if I can see the big picture, but I can't process directions while I drive (or, sometimes, walk). Also, my instincts inevitably fail me. If I turn right to go into a building, I want to turn right when I come out (my dad is the same way--he has learned to listen to his instincts, then do the opposite). I can even get disoriented inside large buildings.

I googled around a bit and one possibility that came up was a visual perception disorder, but I didn't fit any of the symptoms, other than the bad (horrible) sense of direction. In fact, I consider myself primarily a visual learner. I did, however, come across a term called "directional dyslexia." I don't know scientific it is, but this post by a fellow sufferer (I'll concede that the word may be a bit dramatic) certainly resonated with me, to the point of being almost eerie.

As far as disorders go, it's not a bad one. For the most part, it's just embarrassing, though it does involve short bouts of anxious panic (sometimes felt while imagining living out the rest of my life on a Swiss mountain like Heidi). But I think the worst part is that it probably inhibits my desire to explore new areas near my house on my own. It's ironic that I love to travel and can easily navigate the public transportation systems of New York, Madrid, Barcelona, Berlin, Paris, etc. (maps are involved) while getting miserably lost in Alpine.

Naming the problem is helpful though. Now if I can just find a support group for the directionally dyslexic, I'd be set. Maybe the group would be called DDA . . . or perhaps one already exists under the acronym GPS.

I may have just hit upon the perfect present for my upcoming 30th birthday.