March 1st, 2004

Today Rhiannon, Landon, Dakota and I all bundled up and drove down to my parent’s house in Poway. They have a large yard of almost an acre and on it exists some of the more lush and diverse landscaping I have seen. My parents are somewhat eclectic folks, and this is definitely reflected in their yard. They have hundreds of various trees, shrubs, bushes and flowers. So when Rhiannon suggested we bury Lucy there, I couldn’t think of a more fitting resting place for our loved little feline, and we could definitely plant something in her memory that could then be a part of the wonderful forest that grows within my parent’s fence.

My parents were both present for some of the afternoon. My Dad showed me where I could dig Lucy’s grave; my Mom spent some time with Rhiannon, and watched Landon while we got things ready. It took close to 2 hours to dig the grave 3 feet deep, thanks in large part to the 18 inches of clay I had to scrape my way through. Interesting enough though, I found the whole grave digging process somehow cathartic. It gave me some time to be alone to think about Lucy, and to also exert some physical exercise toward the positive goal of giving her a fitting final resting place. I definitely walked away from the experience feeling better. We buried Lucy after a few quiet words were said, and vowed to plant a poplar tree over he grave. We left a flower over her, and eerily I noticed upon returning home, that the flower we selected looked strikingly similar to the painting that hangs on a wall in Lucy’s room (our downstairs bathroom).

March 2nd, 2004

This afternoon was Landon’s first official visit to his pediatrician. Dr. Mackey is a young doctor with a quiet and somewhat jovial bedside manner, he actually reminded Rhiannon and I both of our college friend Kevin who also is now a pediatrician. Landon is doing famously; he weighed and measured in above the 90th percentile compared to newborns his age. All of Rhiannon’s numerous questions and concerns were patiently listened to and reassuredly answered. It felt good to hear that all is going well.

Before we left, while I was downstairs folding laundry, Rhiannon screamed from upstairs, “Oh my God! Get up here fast! I need help!” I freaked out and flew up the stairs wondering what terrible thing had just happened to my son. Ever since Sunday night I have been extremely on edge and scared about how delicate Landon is, so as I headed up the stairs I assumed the worst. Their in the rocking chair sat Rhiannon, holding our son after changing him, with a big pile of fresh baby shit in her lap. Apparently she had finished cleaning him up, put on a new diaper, and sat down in the rocking chair to calm him down, when another round of yellow, baby, wonderpoo escaped out of the back of his newly applied diaper. Suffice it to say that this was not the emergency I had envisioned. I helped clean the two of them up, then left the room so that my heart might stop racing. I explained to Rhiannon how she had freaked me out, and begged her to reserve such screams for help for actual emergencies. It literally took me hours to calm back down.

After another day of accomplishing little and falling on the couch fatigued by the end of the day, we have affectionately nicknamed Landon the “Black Hole”. No matter how hard we try to avoid it, he manages to suck up and obliterate all the hours in the day. I am still trying to figure out where the minutes from 5:30 to 8:30 went this afternoon.