I'm Supposed To Be Packing

Floyd talked Seymour into a San Diego mountain biking weekend, and we're all coming along for the trip. Why not--my folks are letting us stay with them, and only a fool would skip free babysitting. And, just in case it comes across differently while I'm bitching and moaning--I like my folks. Plus we'll get to see Floyd's adorable wife, The Little Flower, for the first time since February (the bastards moved to Phoenix two years ago. Something about houses costing half as much as the average down payments around here). Seymour told me not to worry about his being almost out of clean underwear as he was going to be wearing mountain biking shorts all weekend anyhow. Ewwww.

Leelo's doing okay today. Still slightly nutty, but after various experimentations I believe the juice theory carries the most weight. He's also resumed asking to squeeze "Mommy's elbow"--his standard self-soothing tic--instead of running around clacking two matching items together, which is his coping tic during regressions.

Lately he seems to be cluing in to how much time he spends away from me, and instead with the various therapists, He has been very clingy this week, and has been commanding the therapists to go "Bye-Bye!" upon arrival. Last night our babysitter put him to bed, as I had run off for an evening with MYSELF. He started wandering the house this morning at 5 A.M., crying for Mommy. Poor little bit. I let him fall asleep in the office bed next to me tonight, and he is a happy little bugger indeed.

Iz has decided to be Ella the devil ballerina princess for Halloween. Um, okay. Anyone have a pink tutu they're not using? She wants Leelo to be Kal-El. Her reasoning being that I got him a red cape, Superman wears a red cape, and Superman's name was still Kal-El when he was Leelo's age.

Anyhow, off to SD in the morning. Here's something to play with while I'm gone:

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