Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom

Today, after bringing the baby to day care for his transition week. I’m set to go to the doctor. I’m bringing my dad to hold the baby, while I go get checked out. And although we’re in the middle of a fantastic city, there’s something about my today list that makes me feel like Indiana Jones chopping down a path in the jungle with a machete. It’s a 101 degrees out, the elevator to my building is out of order, and the lights in the stairwell are out, so it’s pitch black. Yeah! This makes me concerned about Dad, since he has trouble with depth perception, particularly going down, and can’t see out of one eye. We got up okay to eat lunch, but going down is another adventure. I’m about to pack a flash light, but Dad said “Don’t bother. I’m pretty blind anyway,” which made me laugh.

Day care seems awesome. The three ladies in the infant room are pretty on it. While I was there, one of them entertained FIVE BABIES AT THE SAME TIME. Skills, people. They have bubbles and family photos on the walls and floor, and all that jazz. Baby will be in good hands. It’s the rest of us who need counseling in order to let Baby go.

Um, so I don’t always have time to cut Baby’s nails and he likes to rub his head and face to settle into sleep, which makes him look like he got in a fight with a cat. Our Baby was the only one with a scratched up head in day care.

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