The Big Point Nine One Six Repeating

All appears to be returning to normal.  After Claire defeated the Cthonian horror under the bed, and devoured its remains having mistaken them for sashimi, things were iffy.  There were reprisals.  Disease.  Digestive troubles.  So forth.  But, I believe my vigil has held us through it.  Danielle is mostly on the mend.  Claire seems to be her ever contradictory hyper self.  And I slept some last night.  I think we’ve seen our way through the worst of it.
In truth, now that the pox on the House of Dass appears to have been overcome it’s time to start the countdown to Party Time.  In one month’s time, Claire will celebrate one year on Planet Earth.  And, while there have been a few bumps on the way (and, I suppose The Incident What With The Walker And The Stairs) it’s been a fast year.
Life has been a blur for me the last eleven months or so.  Apparently babies come equipped with some sort of flux capacitor hyperdrive that causes a parent’s perception of time to spin wildly out of control.  At times, life moves faster than light leaving me with a pleasant vibe of "wait, what just happened?" And, at other times, like when Claire had the sniffles, time seemed to be locked in place.  Not quite groundhog day, more limbo of repeating scenery.  Cough, cry, pacifier, rest. Ad infinitum.  And this last weekend, well, Time stopped outright.  And now, we appear to be returning to normal probability.
And so, to sum up the last eleven months, here is a picture of Claire putting a ball in a hole:
Yes.  My baby can now put a ball in a hole. w00t! That is all.

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