By Michelle Webster-Hein

February 19, 2014


Were it not for my infant daughter, I would not be home on a Wednesday morning in my pajamas, catching up with yesterday’s dishes and laundry and forgotten clutter.

But I also would not have thought to blast Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony through our living-room speakers, would not have danced through all four of its movements--would most certainly not have butchered Schiller’s German or swept up my enthusiastic partner in an unsuitable tango. 

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