Goodbye Sunshine!

We have a round window on the second floor of our house that faces east. Every morning, sunshine pours through it onto our stairway, inviting us to go downstairs and start our day.

This morning, as we walked downstairs through the sunshine, Charlie stopped, turned around and waved and said, "Goodbye, sunshine!"

Cuter every day!

Charlie Hates Animals, Loves Trains

We took Charlie to the World Famous San Diego Zoo. We have an annual membership because we're responsible solid parents.

Turns out, Charlie hates animals.

I guess I should amend that statement - Charlie hates zoo animals. Domesticated animals are fine. Animals in cages, that can't ever harm him or get close to him - he want to "do sumthin else".

He was super pumped to be walking into this cave next to water behind a pane of glass until an otter swam up to him to say hello. "All done, let's go, sumthing else!" as he shook his hands back and forth in front of him, waving the traumatic experience away. All the parents got such a kick out of my little neurotic Woody Allen, while their children ooohed and aaahhhed on cue at the "coot aminals".

Charlie was way into the telescope at the monkey exhibit though. And the elevator to the tiger swamp. He also liked this tunnel thing.



Good thing I sprung for that annual membership because I'm sure Charlie will be BEGGING to return.

The World Famous San Diego Zoo is located in Balboa Park, this huge, beautiful setting that houses probably 173 museums. Maybe not that many. But close, I'm sure. It also has an old fashioned carousel, a huge playground, and, Charlie's favorite, a miniature train.

The miniature train was everything the zoo wasn't - it elicited sounds from my son that most parents only hear on Christmas morning. $2.00 to ride. Way cheaper than the zoo membership. The pictures speak for themselves.

Tonight, when we were putting Charlie to bed, he started talking.

"Daddy loves Mommy. Mommy loves Daddy. Charlie loves Mommy and Daddy."

We had a group hug. Then he said,

"Daddy, Mommy very much. Mommy, Daddy very much. Charlie, Mommy and Daddy very much."

Every day, he gets the tiniest bit sweeter.

~~~~~~~

I go in to get a hi-res ultrasound on Thursday to try to figure out why my right ovary has decided to go on full-out attack. Oh, and hopefully someone can give me a clue as to when this miscarriage will actually be finished miscarrying. That would be nice to know. The not knowing how permanent this is, how this affects my fertility in general, the lack of basic trust I have in my health care professionals - all of it really shits the bed, as a friend said to me once, after miscarriage number 2, I think. Maybe 3. In any case, the longer this lingers, the longer it will be for me to put number 6 in that cobwebby card catalog drawer in my brain labeled "Misfortunes, Solutions Unknown". Until then, I walk around feeling like I actually still have it in me, and I have no way of getting it out.

Thank god for Charlie, man. We say it all the time. Thank god for Charlie.

Itsa Cysta

About two weeks ago, I had a pain in my side that I was certain was appendicitis. I went to the emergency room after my doctor told me over the phone to run, not walk (I thought about explaining to him that I was doubled over in pain, and would not be running anywhere, but decided to hang up and hightail it), and discovered my appendix was just fine. Turns out I have a bunch of cysts on my ovary. At least one was leaking. Ew. So I was like, whatever, it hurts, what do ya got for me? So they sent over the nurse with the IV.

I tried to warn the lady that I have tiny veins, but she wouldn't listen. She poked my arm about 8,000 times, and then she began to swear under her breath. "I was 100% today, too!" she said, all pissed off. She looked at me then with an evil eye and I would have felt guilty if she wasn't jabbing a big thick needle into my arm, wiggling it around to try to tap some vein, any vein. "Dammit, it collapsed!" She threw me another ugly glare, "I was 100% perfect today, until you came along." She got up to get a new needle and I sent Jason a silent message with my eyes: "oh shit get me out of here." But I knew that needle would eventually get me the good stuff, the nectar of all that is beautiful, full of rainbows and unicorns, so I decided to turn my arm over to her again.

"Just a little poke," she said sarcastically as she stabbed my arm a second time. She wiggled the needle back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, and then she says something you never want to hear the person inserting anything intravenously to say: "Is it getting hot in here?"

She yanks that needle out and says, "I'm done." I was like, "But what about my nectar of all that is beautiful?" She said, "I'll get the new girl over here to do it."

Oh, great.

Turns out the new girl kicks ass at finding a vein and did it on her first try, one-handed and blindfolded. The veteran came back to give me the juicy juice and she said, "I'm going to give this to you slow - if you get it too quickly, you'll probably freak out." I felt a cool warmth enter my arm and coat my spine, oozing downward into my legs and I was so suddenly thick and dense, I was certain I couldn't move my arms and legs. Surely this was overkill for a leaky cyst, no? But no matter - I'll take it anyway.

The nurse asked me how I was feeling, and I replied, "Heavy." "Oh you're not heavy, hon. The meds must be working."

I don't know what that sadist gave me, but all was forgiven.