On What to Write

I can't decide what to write here sometimes.   Originally, I started this blog and kept the existence of it a secret.  It was an online diary for me.  Prior to the blog, I had never written a single page of a diary in my life.   Diaries required writing, and that wasn't something I enjoyed doing very much.  I wasn't sure I'd be successful at writing so I kept at it for a while before I told anyone.   My goal was never to keep the blog a secret but back then I had a good bit of insecurity about how well I wrote.   I wanted to do it though, to write down one thing about each child and something on my mind.   That was the formula.   That was the plan.  Nine years later and I haven't deviated from my original plan. 

For a decent period of time, I had a cringing feeling when I admitted I had a blog.  I was actually worried the person would want to read it.   Over time, that feeling faded.  I became more confident that what I was writing wasn't all that bad.  It was no literary masterpiece, but I'd improved in my writing and it wasn't as stumbly or awkward as those first few months of posts. 

Today, I tell people about this blog fairly regularly.   This typically happens because something comes up about the children and I mention I have a blog where I document my children's lives one day and a few sentences at a time.   That's why I'm here; that's why this blog exists—for the children.   Or at least that's what I thought.   But I was wrong. 

It took me a long while to realize it, but I finally figured out this blog is for me.   I hope someday my children will come here to read about their lives when they were young.  Perhaps they'll want to read about their mother and what I was like when they were young.   Maybe they'll laugh when they remember the 3D printing craze I went through before the invention of the Matter Compiler all homes now have and it wasn't always that you could create any object with the single press of a button.  

This blog has also done some things I never thought it would.   It was the primary communication location when my daughter's eyes revolted, fought, and ultimately failed.  It was exhausting dealing with the medical trauma, my daughter's social and emotional health as well the depression as parents we went through as it became more and more clear my daughter's vision couldn't be saved.  

So where am I going with this post?   I'm having to remember myself.  I was typing this up, with a clear vision two hours ago, despite the audiobook my son was listening to playing from the Amazon Echo three feet away from me.  Then I got called away.   The children are in bed now and I'm trying to regroup.   This happens with children, with life here—the distractions—years ago I wouldn't have dealt well with it but now it's standard happenings in my life. 

Where I'm going with this is that every day when I sit down to write a post I realize I have two audiences: me and you.   I try to balance the posts so that I document our lives for the you of now and for the you of the future on the one hand and the me of today on the other.   The 3D printing posts are me posts.   It's my current passion, or if you ask my children, my obsession. 

And speaking of 3D printing (because I know you were hoping for an update) what have I been doing lately?   Lots of things.  I've figured out how to print larger models quickly that are sturdy and strong by changing the nozzle to a larger diameter and adjusting slicer settings to extrude lots of filament quickly.   This wouldn't work for specific, small and precise items, but for much of what I'm doing that doesn't matter, like the tissue box in the picture below that I printed in a fifth of the time it would have taken with traditional extrusion settings. 

Here are some of the things I've printed just in the past week.   So be warned: if I see you after this whole Coronavirus mess is over, it's likely I'll foist one of my prints on you so I can make room to print more.   Thanks in advance for your understanding. 

The Big Boy Update:  My son has to make his own lunch for school.   He doesn't want to do this so he rushes through it and doesn't pack much.   I was thinking he'd learn a lesson soon enough but the Adderall causes him not to be very hungry until it wears off when he gets home so so far, his hurried lunch preparation has been working to his advantage. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  I heard my daughter singing along to a song she and Chelsea, her music therapist, were making up as they went.   Chelsea is skilled with her guitar and follows my daughter's lead.   My daughter's voice continues to improve, even though they're not doing formal voice lessons.   I would have titled the song from today, "Here I am" because my daughter kept repeating those words and then saying something related to her or her life.   I always listen to see if she says anything about being blind, but she's usually singing about other things that I wouldn't have guessed.