Oh poor Isaac, he's decided to cut a few more teeth this weekend. And they're his top front ones. When he smiles, there are two bulging chiclets looking back at us, planning their escape from the inside of his gums. While he maintains a good attitude, he's requiring regular doses of Motrin or Tylenol (alternating, for the sake of his tummy), and needs a few extra cuddles.
Knock on wood, but we seem to have avoided the horrors of the stomach flu that ravaged the family reunion last weekend (that we didn't attend, but Bella was our emissary). So chalk one up to clean living!
A final note: I saw a movie the other night that literally broke my brain: The President's Analyst starring James Coburn. It was one of the silliest, most random movies ever... from 1967. It had strange moments of seriousness (one person recalling a horrible moment of becoming aware of racism as a child) followed IMMEDIATELY by completely madcap chases... and with one of Lalo Schirfin's most surreal scores. I'm still processing the strange information that was inserted into my brain from this movie.
I think my mother recommended it. Hmm.
Off to do chores - a little mowing, a little de-trashification of the yard, who knows what else?