Uppercase Woman

Puppies! Kittens! Adorable Newborns!

Arg. Every time I think I'm prepared for the backlash, a new angle is discovered. I was fully armored for the "you killed your babies you bitch!" angle, and the "you should have delivered your babies they might have lived" angle (why is it that NO ONE EVER remembers that one twin had died already?), but I was totally unprepared for the "why didn't you have a c-section?" argument (maybe someone can anticipate the next one so I can be ready?).

Sigh.

Here's why I didn't have a c-section, not like anyone will believe me because after all, I killed my babies:

BECAUSE CUTTING OPEN A WOMAN WITH FAILED KIDNEYS AND OUT-OF-CONTROL BLOOD PRESSURE IS REALLY FUCKING STUPID AND SHE MIGHT BLEED TO DEATH AT WORST OR LOSE HER UTERUS AT BEST.

Sigh.

Now, let's change the subject and go spend some time here cooling down, m'kay? Meanwhile I'm going to go lie down. This all has given me another motherfucking migraine.

I Hate Everything

It's been one of those weeks.

I should never have blogged about Obama during this week. I feel totally beaten up by the comments, and that's not fair, because they've been completely reasonable. But it's clear that people are very passionate about this election, and whenever people are passionate, well--emotions ride high.

And this is not a good week for me.

I, first of all, have killer PMS. I'm not sure why it's so bad. I mean, it's always a thrilling fun adventure with roses and lollipops, but this particular month it's roses with giant thorns and lollipops with razorblades inside. I could KILL EVERYONE. No, seriously. No. Seriously.

NO. SERIOUSLY.

I'm not coping with it well. The other day? When we were having Tori's hair cutting adventure? Charlie started choking on a donut. When he came to me, gasping and trying to catch a breath, gesturing for me to whack him on the back or do the Heimlich maneuver, what did I do? I rolled my eyes, gazed at him in disgust and said, "What, you didn't buy yourself a water?"

No, really. I did that. The epitome of loving kindness, that's me.

Tori is having a, shall we say, clingy phase. It's all MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY all the time. As in, if I go to the kitchen she cries. If I go pee, she cries. If I go to the car, she cries. If I put my shoes on because my feet are cold she anticipates me going somewhere and cries. Seriously, if my uterus had a door and I could pop her back in at this point MY LIFE WOULD BE EASIER.

I love her--I really do--but the whole toddler-clinging-to-the-legs thing is a lot less appealing in reality than it seemed during all those infertility treatments.

Which brings me to my next point, about how I AM A COMPLETE FUCKING ASSHOLE WHO HAS NO GRATITUDE. Oh, I know. I spend a great deal of time thinking about that all day, especially when I am peeling Tori's hands off my thighs so I can get my jeans down far enough to take a piss. I think about all the blogs out there of women still trying to get to this point, and I consider finding an anvil and dropping it on my own head in their honor.

But the problem is that I'm just so damn tired. And hormonal. And just beaten right now.

Why? Well, here's one reason. I just got a letter in the mail from my insurance saying that my visit to the Emergency Room in January (remember the three-week migraine? Yeah, that visit) isn't going to be covered because it was for a "pre-existing condition." Which means that NONE of the migraine treatment I've been receiving, from my new specialist, or the medications that I've gotten, or any of that stuff--NONE OF IT WILL BE COVERED (hey, if you have any experience in fighting that sort of thing, let me know! *sob*). It's bad enough that I pay $350 a month for insurance that barely pays for 50% of the medications I need as it is--now they'll pay none? Really?

I don't know what to do.

This is why I hate PMS. It has the amazing ability to make me feel like I have ALWAYS been slogging uphill, that it has ALWAYS been awful, that my life has ALWAYS been terrible. IT IS SO NOT TRUE. As they say in recovery, FEELINGS AREN'T FACTS (picture me in the corner eating chocolate and muttering *feelings aren't facts. feelings aren't facts. feelings aren't facts*. Yeah, that's my life right now).

Eventually, Tori will grow tired of me and only love Daddy (PLEASE GOD PLEASE GOD PLEASE GOD). My period will come, and in fact, may only come a few times a year soon, as my headache specialist thinks that perhaps one of those getchyer-period-only-four-times-a-year pills might just cure me of my migraines completely (since my cycle is so tied to them).

And best of all, Charlie and I made an offer on a tiny little trailer in the mountains (it was very, very, very cheap, and as such won't cost much more than camping--but the critical detail is that it is NOT camping, which we have come to accept as not being a reality for us until Tori is older) and the offer was accepted. Which we are very happy about. Oh, and I took Tori to my hairdresser in the city and she fixed her up, and Tori is now the proud owner of an adorable pixie cut (pictures forthcoming, I assure you).

There are good things in my life, and my PMS is LYING TO ME. Bitch.

But... please tell me that this phase with Tori will end soon. Right? RIGHT?

Antibiotics and Nudity

I'm now on round two of antibiotics in less than a month. Yeah. The very first day we were home from the trip Tori brought home something from morning care (I suppose she could have gotten it on the plane as well) and Charlie got it a few days later and last Thursday it was clear that I was coming down with it as well. By Friday night my throat was so sore I could barely swallow and it continued that way through the whole weekend, and I finally broke down and saw my doctor yesterday who looked at my throat and actually took a step back when she saw it and hastily wrote a script for some hard core antibiotics. It's just red--no tell tale white spots--but it really hurts. It's just a bit better this morning but I am totally wiped out. I fell asleep probably forty times yesterday, including while sitting at my computer trying to write a piece for work. Not good.

I hate day care crud.

So, in other news, I did not link to my nekkid picture the other day randomly. Part of my journey toward self-love and self-acceptance in this whole fat acceptance thing--this idea of loving myself at the size I am now, and not waiting to love myself when I'm a size 18, or 14, or 12--has made me look at my body differently and try, if I can, to see its beauty. Since I decided to join Sarah in her self-portrait journey (albeit on a much smaller scale), I thought this would a good challenge for me. And part of that is actually looking at what my body looks like naked. Well, no, let's go back further--part of that means looking at my whole body. I started by taking this photograph. As you can see, I had to couch it with a self-deprecating title (does this tree make me look fat?) and I felt very, very awkward about it. But not too long after that I took a shot of myself standing in my basement draped in christmas lights--completely naked--and I allowed a very small select group of women (and Charlie) I trusted see it (no, I'm not going to link to it--I'm not there yet). Those friends were very nice to me and called me brave.

I took a few other shots where I draped my body in blankets, another partial nude with christmas lights, *edited to add* a very out-of-focus partial black and white nude, and then a silly photoshop project using a whole body shot, but it was that most recent shot where I got really brave. And wow, you guys were so nice! I can't believe how many people looked at it, and maybe the comments did devolve into a bit of a "my boobs are bigger" contest (Nancy, you win, hands down--no one else comes close)--but still, it was awesome. After feeling like a fat lump for the last ten years, it's really nice to get a little bit of a nudge in the opposite direction.

Several of you said you wanted to take similar photos--I say, go for it! It's totally empowering.

That said, I'm not perfect on the fat acceptance thing. I lost about ten pounds on our trip, and that pleased me no end and I'm trying to keep it off. Also, most of the pictures I take for my 52 Weeks project look like this--close ups of my face, safe and thin-looking.

It's all about progress, right? Sigh.

Five Random Things Because I'm Too Lame To Write A Real Post

1. My migraines were much better for a bit, after I discovered, with the help of my new headache specialist, that most of them were actually rebound headaches caused by one of my medications. That lasted about four weeks. Sadly, the migraines are back, and today I went to get an MRI (just routine, nothing to worry about). But guess what? I am NOT a good MRI candidate. I got about half way into the MRI machine before I freaked the fuck out and demanded to be removed IMMEDIATELY from the terrifying tube of plastic. I'm going to see if a cat-scan will do, and if not, maybe try an "open" MRI machine (it's not really open, it's just a bit bigger and a little shorter), perhaps with some valium or something (seriously, as much as I cherish recovery, I am not getting into a tube of plastic inches from my face and lying still for a half hour without some help). That was truly awful, that MRI machine.

2. Tori is doing much better, but is still full of strange whims and random rules like "only Mommy can hold the puzzle" and "only Mommy can walk the dog" and "only Mommy can hold my hand." Note the common thread--MOMMY is involved. She's become very, very dependent on me.

3. My theory about her super Mommy attachment has to do with the fact that Tori weaned while we were away. She was only nursing about three minutes in the morning at most anyway, and we were getting up and going and not hanging out in the hotel room and the nursing just fell away naturally, which was great, because the last Friday we were away I upped my Topoma*x dose to a level that it was no longer safe for her to nurse anymore anyway. I'm not sure if that explains her super attachment, but it's a theory.

4. After we've Tori time to recover from weaning from the almighty boob, we've GOT to get her off the pacifier. Her new thing is to throw pacifiers; in the car, from the crib, in the living room--and then get really, really angry that she doesn't have a pacifier. Yes, we know they have those things you can attach to either a kid or a carseat--she gets them off and throws them too. She also wakes up at night after losing the pacifier in her mouth and we have to go replace it for her (she won't find it on her own). It's a little annoying. NO, it's a LOT annoying. Any tips?

5. I got really brave the other day and took nekkid photos of myself (it's all Sarah's fault). And posted them on the internet. Wanna see? It's tasteful (I think), but I'm not sure if it's "safe for work." Enjoy! And yes, it's amazing how plump and full your boobs look when you are laying on your back. Heh.

Home, Home, Home

I swear, when I got off the plane, and saw the duct tape holding together the banister on the ramp leading out of our gate (ah, my ramshackle city), I was never so happy to be back in Philadelphia.

God, what a long trip.

I had no idea what I was getting us into when we scheduled a vacation for over two weeks. I really just thought to myself, "Oh, it will be wonderful, and we won't have to limit ourselves at any location!"

I was an idiot.

Ten days is nice, and leaves you wanting a bit more. Two weeks is plenty, and leaves you feeling grateful to be home. Two weeks plus five days leaves you shaking, weak in the knees, mildly insane, and seriously considering leaping out the plane window on the way home to see if that will make the plane ride end faster.

The last five days was like traveling, as Charlie says, with a two-foot tall rather adorable mental patient. Tori has hit the terrible twos a bit early and has become rather unpredictable. For instance, she will frequently ask for Elmo--at top volume, over and over--and we, being the loving and highly accommodating parents that we are (also parents who desperately want the shrieks of MOMO MOMO MOMO to please for the love of all that is holy STOP) will obligingly crawl under the crib and find said Elmo and offer it to Tori, quite pleased with ourselves for meeting her needs so squarely, and she will look at the doll as if we have offered her a shovel with a heaping, steaming pile of dog shit on it and scream at the top of her lungs, "NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!" until we remove the offending Elmo far, far away--and then console her accordingly. This goes on with about 50% of what she asks for, so we feel a bit as if we are rats in a science experiment--sometimes we get a nice piece of cheese (a happy baby), and sometimes we get electrical shocks (a screaming, crying, insane baby).

She's been exhibiting this behavior for the whole trip, but it ramped up while we were away and is now in full swing. Charlie and I are rather shell shocked--as I imagine most parents are when they hit this stage in toddlerdom. Tori has always been a remarkably easy going kid with very easy-to-satisfy needs, and now to have her suddenly become impossible to please is just, frankly, fucking awful. Plus, we've gone from being those smug parents with the perfect child in public to being those parents everyone ignores in public with the screaming kid who has to be removed from the restaurant, or who screams at top volume on the plane, or, say, who cries for 45 minutes straight while waiting to pass through security at the airport (at the Phoenix airport at 9:30am yesterday? yep, that was us).

I have NEVER been so happy to see her go to morning care as I was this morning. And I do not feel the least bit guilty about it. I caught up on all my work emails (I thought I'd be able to work on this trip! ha!), I copied all my trip photos to my home hard drive, I am writing this blog entry, all without any small fingers trying to get the keyboard or grabbing my leg or... sigh. It's heaven.

Other than trips to the bathroom, I have been in the same room as my daughter for the last twenty days. For the last week, until last night, we were in the same bed. I love her--insanely, and beyond reason--but GOOD LORD I NEEDED A BREAK.

Tell me this: is there ever a time--EVER--that children begin to respond to verbal commands of "NO" and "STOP" and "DON'T"? And, if so, how do you make that happen? Because Tori is so extraordinarily talented at finding exactly the best way to injure herself or damage something important to us these days and we simply cannot make her stop without physically grabbing her--and then coping with the ensuing tantrum. We can't ever stop watching her for a second--not to eat, or talk to someone, or breathe, or sneeze-- without her climbing something, grabbing something, or breaking something. She does NOT respond to any verbal cues at all except occasionally a very loud "eh-eh-eh-eh" noise that I make. EVER. It's gotten no better with time. I feel very hopeless about it, honestly.

OK. I'm done now. I swear. No more complaining about my trip or my daughter because I know that there are at least a dozen people composing anonymous emails right now saying, "At least you have a daughter" or "At least you got a vacation." YOU ARE RIGHT. I AM AN ASSHOLE. I have always been an asshole, there is no denying that. When I have two more nights of sleep, I promise to keep my assholiness inside my own head and not share it with the world anymore. M'kay?

So--what did I miss? Other than the incredibly fabulousness of Akeeyu having her TWIN GIRLS? Remind me when I'm less fried to tell you all about other things like how Obama has gotten my vote (I know!), and other topical goings-on after I catch up on all the other news (I've been in a near news black out too). OK? God, it's good to be home.

Day 4,843: Northern New Mexico and Arizona & Why the Fuck Did I Take This Long A Vacation Again?

OK, so it's really Day 14 (late in the day), but seriously. If I ever decide taking a two-week + vacation is a good idea again, please find something heavy and whack me in the head with it. Repeatedly. Until I remember this trip and how hard it is to be confined in small hotel rooms with your dearest family members endlessly, eating only road food, and having to be at the mercy of hotel internet service. Because right now, my dear blog readers, I'm stuck in the lobby of the Grand Canyon Railroad Hotel listening to some horrible 50's music because their internet signal doesn't reach our room FIFTY FUCKING FEET down the hall. And there are a lot of people with REALLY BIG HAIR sitting near me. Hold me.

We've hit a bit of rough patch. A few nights ago Tori had a terrible nightmare and refused to return to her crib (she clung to me tighter than I had imagined was possible) and ended up spending the night in bed with me (the rooms have all had two small beds so Charlie and I are pretending we're from 50's sitcoms and have been sleeping in separate beds), and now Tori is waking up halfway through each night and insisting on sleeping with me, which is great for her, and not so great for me. She KICKS. We've also spent too many days in the car; our Jemez mountains trip turned into a nine-hour car cruise, which would have been fine without a toddler (although we did break down and buy an in-car DVD player--oh, the joy) following too many nights with me not getting enough sleep, so I haven't been a happy woman.

Add in the fact that it turns out that both northern New Mexico and northern Arizona have--what do you know--WINTER, you have two cold and cranky adults, and one cold and yet still wildly energetic toddler.

In other words, it's been a BLAST (actually, literally--today the wind gusts nearly carried Tori away).

But, the beauty continues to knock us out, and we are still blown away by the area. So, now that the bitching is done, the photos! First up, the Jemez mountains.

The Jemez Mountains are west and north of Albuquerque, and I spent a great deal of time camping in them as a kid with my local girl scout troop. I have such great memories of my time there, and I love that little corner of the earth almost more than any other. Not only are there the glorious pine trees near the peaks, but the amazing red rock formations near the Jemez pueblo.

Plus, when you're driving through the Jemez mountains you can just randomly come across a vista like this.

The Jemez are also full of hot springs, much to the chagrin of my former girl scout troop leader's husband, since we (the girl scout troop) would be often doing winter hikes and come across a hot spring and promptly all strip naked and swim in the spring while surrounded by six inches of snow. The springs are full of minerals, and these minerals have created the very interesting feature visible right on highway 4 in the Jemez called the Soda Dam.

The next day was a travel day. We drove from Albuquerque to Williams, Arizona (near Flagstaff). I, stupidly, thought several erroneous things about the Flagstaff area. For instance, I would have sworn that Flagstaff was a desert town. Silly me. I could not be more wrong. Not only is it NOT a desert town, it's a mountain town, surrounded by one of the most impressive mountain ranges I've seen outside of the Alps. Plus, it's DAMN COLD. Also, it's much farther away than we expected. So it took all day to travel.

We arrived in time, however, to take Tori to the lovely indoor pool at the Grand Canyon Railway Hotel (and in time for all the adult at the pool to determinedly ignore us when we tried to speak to them--I forget sometimes how much the tattoos freak people out). Tori LOVED the pool and learned to jump from the side into my arms in the water and didn't want to leave even though she was stumbling with weariness.

Then this morning we got up and went to the Grand Canyon.

It's hard to talk about the Grand Canyon. I don't know how to talk about it without sounding stupid and trite. The first vista was super crowded, and we had a really weird moment when some Japanese tourists began taking pictures of Tori (really, they posed with her), but later I got five minutes alone at a vista and I just burst into tears. It's just crazy and amazing and huge and too much. You can't really bend your mind around it.

The weather wasn't great; we had almost no sun, it was super windy and very cold. The photos don't do it justice. I'll just post one here, and then I'll post some others later at the Flickr account. This is the best one I took, I think. But trust me--if you haven't been here yet, you have to see it. Photos just don't cut it.

Tomorrow we go back to Tucson. Wednesday we fly home. Thank god. You may not hear from me again until I'm back in Philly. Whew. I can't wait.

Day 10: The Sandias

Just a short post today while Tori naps. Today we took the tram to the top of the Sandia Mountains. I grew up with the massive 10,000 foot tall Sandia Mountains in my backyard, the very definition of "purple mountain majesty."

One of the first poems I ever wrote was about these mountains when I was eight years old. They are, in a word, glorious. I've never seen them from the tram's point of view, although I've hiked the trail beneath the tram (OK, once, when I was 12) so it was really cool to ride it up there.

Speaking of cool, it was COLD up at the crest. We took a few photos and quickly ran into the restaurant on the peak to eat lunch (New Mexico green Chile stew; yummy--they put green chilies in everything here. Last night I had them in chicken tortellini at an Italian restaurant) where I filmed a short video for Sarah because she's jonesing for some Tori footage. Enjoy. Oh, and by the way, more photos are available both at my flickr site and at Charlie's.

Days 8 & 9: Santa Fe, Family, & Tent Rocks

So Monday morning we woke up bright and early in our even more luxurious hotel room and realized one major problem: my sister had accidentally given me her wrong phone number. Oops! After a bit of frantic running about, we finally managed to connect and meet up in Santa Fe, and Didi and her 15 year old daughter Nat met us and agreed to be our tour guides through the tourist trap that is the center of Santa Fe. It was lovely to see them again--I haven't seen them since my Dad's funeral--and they both look much more relaxed and happy (especially Nat, who has really blossomed into a lovely and confident young woman; I unwittingly scored points with her by wearing a pair of cool sunglasses that I'd picked up in Tucson because I'd foolishly let Tori play with--and break--my other pair; apparently the ones I'd grabbed at some hipster shop there were THE ones to have).

The plaza is much as I remembered it; overpriced chic shops preying on folks from New York and LA. But I have to say the Native Americans selling stuff on the street have also wised up too--they are NOT the downtrodden Indians of my youth. They are wily artisans making good money and charging above average rates for their wares now. I paid more than I expected for some gifts. Tori loved walking around and petting dogs and chasing pigeons, and of course, swinging with Daddy.

We had a nice lunch, and got coffee, where I got some nice shots of Didi and Nat, and Nat took a nice shot of me. Gee, you see any family resemblance? First, Didi, then Nat, then me.

Nope, we don't look alike at ALL.

We also visited the miracle staircase at the Loretto Chapel (built without a central support and from one piece of wood). Photos don't do it justice; it's really quite beautiful. The wood is stunning, and I can't believe anyone can walk on it without bringing it down.

Then we took a very cranky baby for a pointless drive so she could nap and eventually back to Didi's for some green chili enchiladas that were amazingly yummy. Eventually, it was back to the hotel for a great nights sleep, made even better by the fact that while Tori woke up at 6am this morning, she got in bed with me and stayed asleep until 8:30am. Let me repeat that; EIGHTY FUCKING THIRTY AM.

Heaven.

Eventually, we got out of the hotel and into the car and set out vaguely north in the hopes of visiting the Jemez mountains, but decided instead to visit the Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument. It offered a nice, short loop hike that the baby could do with us (and my still crappy lungs could handle). It was a bit overcast today, which was actually nice (didn't need to worry too much about sunscreen) since it was quite bright at the Tent Rocks (the sand is all white around there). These rocks are all from volcanic deposits, and the formations are caused by boulders protecting areas and causing cones to form looking like tee-pees. Very cool. Tori thought that the steep and sandy trails were slides and spent much of the time on her butt sliding down them saying "Whee!"

Tonight my brother brought his family into the city to have dinner with us and Didi and her daughter and boyfriend and we had a nice family reunion (again, first time since the funeral!). It really was lovely; I can't believe how big the kids have gotten. It's the biggest group of people that Tori's ever been around that she's related to since she's been born. It was really, really cool. This photo, sadly, came out kind of badly. But I'll share it anyway. Then I'm off to bed. Tomorrow, we're riding the tram--something I never did as a kid since my mom was terrified of heights. Heh. Also, I think we might add a night to our stay here. I'm feeling reluctant to leave...

Days 6 & 7: Roller Derby and Driving To Albuquerque

Rock and Roll hipsters--women all--have revived the art of flat track roller derby competitions. Now in nearly every city across the country, crazy tattooed babes don helmets and knee pads and knock each other around while they have wheels strapped to their feet. My friend Dave's awesome girlfriend Deni is one of these crazy women, and is a team member of the Tucson Saddle Tramps. Sadly, she hurt her knee recently and couldn't actually play at the game we went to on Saturday, but it was a blast to watch anyway. Dave is an announcer, and he's awesome, and his band the Bricktops played the half-time show (I took Tori over to watch Dave play and she kept pointing at him behind his drum kit and saying "Dave! Dave! Dave!" It was very cute.).

We made just to the end of half-time before Tori began rubbing her eyes and we headed back to the hotel. We had a great time, one made better by the fact that I am starting to feeling slightly better with the help of the drugs (thank God). We all hit the sack and got up in time to meet Dave for breakfast and take Tori to the playground before packing her into the car for the long drive to Albuquerque.

I've been so excited about coming back to the city of my birth. Tucson, as beautiful as it is, made me miss it more, oddly enough. Being in a desert that's not, you know, MY desert, felt so odd. Tucson's color palette is just so different. It's basically all khaki--green and tan--which is why, I think, the sun is so much brighter there. It's all so reflective. In New Mexico, everything is just a bit darker, and reflects just a bit less.

As we headed out of Tucson, the landscape started changing immediately. Literally ten miles out of the city, the Saguaros (and the palm trees) disappeared completely and were replaced by dried grasses and other cacti. The further east we went, the more color began creeping in to the desert, and by the time we stopped for lunch in Lordsburg, New Mexico (where I had the best chili I've had in, oh, forever) the hues I'd longed for in the mountains and deserts of Arizona were finally beginning to appear; the gold of the plants, the purple-gray of the stone, the blue-gray of the sage, but mostly what I'd been missing was the red clay. The red that is so definitive of New Mexico--ranging in shade from pale peach to salmon to pastel pink to brick red to bright orange--it appears and disappears on nearly every hillside, and it is what makes New Mexico beautiful. When I spotted the first patch of deep red clay slowly appearing along side the highway, my teeth literally ached with the beauty of it. To some people it's just a patch of dirt, but to me it's the color of my blood.

I am finally back home.

We decided to take a, ahem, shortcut--a side road to skip going south to Las Cruces and wound up taking a beautiful detour through the Gila National Forest. The road looked direct on our crap-ass map, but turned out to be treacherous and windy, and often required speeds of less than ten miles an hour to navigate hairpin turns with terrifying guard-rail free sides with deep, deep drops. It was truly breathtaking, and it reminded me of how beautiful the New Mexico mountains are (and how deeply forested they are too), but Charlie was a bit white knuckled by the time we finally spotted the interstate again (he kept asking if I could see anything over the side, like, oh, say a Denny's; as an East Coast boy, he's not used to such long stretches of no signs of civilization).

By the time we stopped for dinner it was already getting dark, so we arrived in Albuquerque in darkness, so I will not get to see my beloved Sandia Mountains until morning. I may not be able to sleep.

Tori was wonderful in the car, especially considering it was nearly seven hours that she was stuck. She took two naps and is now sleeping peacefully in our stunningly lovely hotel suite (oh, the joy of having two rooms!). Tomorrow we head up to Santa Fe to hook up with my sister and her daughter, and have a little family reunion. I'm so excited! Tori gets to meet her family! Photos will abound.

Tucson, Days Three & Four: Mountains and Urgent Care

On Day Three, I woke up feeling pretty awful. So I stayed in bed late while Charlie took Tori back to the playground for a couple of hours. It helped, and I was able to roust myself enough to pull my ass out of bed and agree to get lunch and go for a drive. Tori's been avoiding naps except in the car, so we decided a nice long drive up Mt. Lemmon which has a handy-dandy windy road to the peak (which is actually a ski resort) would be just the ticket. So we left the sunny (ok, it was actually beginning to get cloudy) valley to drive to the snowy peaks and it was quite lovely. Tori got a nap for a little over an hour, and once she woke up we stopped at several vistas and took some very short walks to various views along the way. It was extremely windy up there, so it wasn't really safe for toddlers to be walking, as you can see.

God, how I love that photo. The rock formations on the mountain are amazing, and they really took my breath away.

Several folks have asked about the "old timey" look to some of these photos; it because I'm doing something called shooting "through the viewfinder." I'm actually using my digital camera and shooting through the viewfinder of an old Argus 75 camera (with a cardboard tube taped to it to keep light out). That way you get the effect of film without actually using film. Sarah is much better at this than I am, which you would know if you look at her photos online at all (here are her "TTV" shots, and here are her TTV self portraits).  It's really quite fun and makes me feel like quite the  art-eest.

Anyway, the day went swimmingly, until we foolishly went to the bookstore BEFORE dinner (I needed a book, what can I say) and she melted down again at the restaurant. So we took the food to go, and went back to the room. I'm sad to say I actually lost my shit a bit at Tori because when she started standing in the car seat and screaming and refusing to sit down (this is after I left Charlie at the restaurant to bring the food back to the hotel, which is located dangerously across six lanes of careening traffic) and I was just so hungry and frustrated that I said, "You better sit the fuck down right now, missy, or ELSE."

God forgive me, she DID. SO not the parent I want to be. Sigh.

Anyway. Ahem. Last night I was up all night coughing. This morning my chest was so tight that walking to the bathroom (you know, six feet from the bed) caused me to be out of breath. I tried to just wait it out, but then I realized I was being stupid. Tucson has an abundance of Urgent Care centers, so we packed up and took my ass to one. A short wait and quick exam later, I got a script for steroids and antibiotics and GOD WILLING by tomorrow night I'll feel better. We managed to salvage the end of the day (even though the weather was terrible--we brought our Pennsylvania cold, rainy weather with us, apparently) with a little shopping and a nice dinner out and a quick visit to a friend's rather insane art opening, but I'm ready for bed now. I'll end this post with a nice shot of me at the urgent care place, and a very sweet shot of Tori trying to comfort me as I hacked my lungs out.