My name is Matt, M-A-T-T, Matt

Imagine the James Bond voice: My name is Matt. M-A-T-T. Matt.

This would be my CI kid who is pretending one of his "ears" is part of his FBI/CIA package and he's communicating his every move as he stealthily makes his way through the house. I get a chuckle when we're in public and ask him if his ears are on. People stare... Well, people always stare because we're such a unique family, but this stare is accompanied with a look that says, "Um, lady, his ears are right there on his head!"

As summer approaches, we will be finding ears on the kitchen counter daily and Matt in the pool. He can't wear his CIs in water, although we have tried the vacuum-sealed-under-a-swim-cap trick, much to our audiologist's dismay. Here's a link: http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1170307103043

So, we enter the time of year when we sign 24/7. Lots of arms flailing in the air trying to get his attention across the yard, lots of explaining to swimming friends that he's not ignoring you, lots of noise... Why is it profoundly deaf children seem to be the loudest? And do the hearing children attempt to be as loud as the deaf child, as though he can hear you?

Conversation yesterday with Jess as she screeched and hollered while playing with Matt in the pool:

Me: Jess, can Matt hear you?
Jess: Um... no
Me: Then please stop screaming b/c he can't hear you and I can and I DON'T want to!

Let me add "teach Jess to express herself silently with mouth open" to my to-do list.