Cal looks like a young hooligan, he has so many scrapes and cuts on his face. But all the injuries are from separate incidents, not one big bar brawl. See:
scratch on eyelid = overvigorous eye rubbing
scratch on nose = too long fingernails (since trimmed)
scrape on chin = top-heavy tumble onto carpet at Gymboree
fat lip = too many teeth in mouth
He's just sauntering around as happy as can be, but now I'm a little afraid to take him outside, lest Child Protective Services snatch him into custody.
* * *
Joe got home Friday night. And the angels sang, the clouds parted to reveal a ray of sun that shone down on us from on high and lo, it was good. I am all too happy to go back to our two parent system. Between working, taking care of Cal, and cleaning up after Cooper (who was kind of being a jerk the whole week that Alpha Dog was in Texas), I did not have a single moment to myself the entire week. Now I can have several such moments. For example, I can ask Joe to watch Cal while I go to the bathroom. And this is GREAT.
Also! He got us presents! I got a t-shirt that read "Air Force Base," though I suspect it was not from the actual Air Force base, given that it was a brown fitted baby-tee with multicolored letters, and I think Uncle Sam would frown on such an unpatriotic display. Cal got a little t-shirt with a picture of an airplane on it, with the words, "Daddy's Coming Home" written across the bottom. I thought that was kind of sweet. Cal did too. And then he fell down and got blood all over the shirt, so there you go.
I am back on Pediatrics next week. Not back to being a Peds resident, I just mean that I'm rotation through Pediatric Anesthesia again. I am looking forward to a great many things about being back on Peds, probably not the least of which is being able to move most of my patients from the OR table to the recovery room bed without damn near herniating a disc every time.
Currently reading: About the Rastelli procedure. I'm in the cath lab tomorrow.