Buh.

There's this scene in Overboard--that's right--Overboard with Kurt Russell and Goldie Hawn, where Goldie's at home with the four out-of-control boys, doing wifely things like cleaning and cooking and ... using a chain saw to cut down a tree??? And then at the end of the scene she's shown sitting in a chair, sort of shell shocked, muttering "buh buh buh buh buh." I always laugh at that scene. And today I feel a little bit buh buh buh myself.

The weekend started out with a bout of food poisoning. I barfed midway through the presidental debate (highly apt) and spent the night tossing and turning with nausea. Then last night, D. awoke, just as I was about to go to bed, and he was burning like a hot potato. His temp was somewhere around 102, and he was inconsolable. I spent the night nursing him off and on, and then boing! 6 am he is better and ready to go and I am feeling fried. Then T. came down with some sort of bug, which meant that I was pretty much on my own taking care of D. today. Gah. And it was one of those days where I'm constantly changing my shirt because I get spit up on, except once it wasn't spit-up but poop.

I should be in bed, since D. is finally down for the night (let's hope his temp doesn't spike again) but I am insane enough to be staying up to watch Mad Men. But you know, I've been sleep deprived for the last three months, so what's a little more lost sleep?

Have you seen this?

Brilliant!

A room with a view

The view from my office.

I was wrong. I thought the first day leaving D. at daycare would be the hardest, and every day after that would get easier. But yesterday, I skipped out after leaving him in the arms of a caregiver, turned up the radio in my car and blissed out to a Pixies tune at full blast on the way to the office.

The first day was nothing. But every subsequent day, it's getting harder. I closed my eyes tight this morning to keep the tears from spilling out.

The view from my office is stunning. On sunny days, the light pocks the surface of the Columbia River with white. I watch trains pass over the bridge on their way to Seattle or Spokane. But it turns out the limited, never-changing view from D's room, is more interesting to me.

Danny Elfman lives here?

It looks like your average house. But every time I walk past this place--it doesn't matter what time of day it is--a very creepy music emanates from within. It's like someone has raided the silverware drawer and is using the spoons to tap glasses of water. Clink clink clink, in a random succession of notes. I've looked for some sort of metal mobile that's clinking in the wind, but in vain. So I've been imagining someone inside making a weird, Edward Scissorhands-tune all day and all night long.

Today is my last day before heading back to work. The last day to take long walks with D. past all sorts of creepy houses, and creepy mannequins, and pirate flags and countless lovely gardens. I guess we'll have weekends, but it won't be quite the same.

It's been such a good summer.

Good thing there's pumpkin picking, apple cider and Halloween to look forward to, otherwise I just couldn't bear it.

Polar pleasure

I watched a polar bear swimming yesterday during a trip to the Oregon Zoo. Absolutely massive--he pushed off one end of the pool and paddled to the other side, then pushed off like a Olympic backstroker, belly up, back to where he started. Back and forth he swam. From the other side of a wall of glass, I could see his powerful body move underwater. His white fur moved like waves of grain in the water. Giant air bubbles danced in his wake. He pushed off the glass with his enormous black paws and turned his snout to the sky, making it easy to see his long, yellowing incisors. God, he was beautiful.