Today Lucas turned 2. I wish I could wax nostalgic about his crazy growth and development or write something really profound, but I'm too tired from last night's epic cupcake baking and tonight's little birthday party with a few of our friends. Perhaps in the coming days I'll feel more inspired. I've spent much of the day thrilled to be a parent, and I think Mr. Trillwing feels much the same way.
All day we had filtered sunlight. Filtered through what, you ask? Smoke. Check out these amazing (and frightening) photos and maps of the Moonlight Fire. Seriously, scary stuff. The sunlight was orangey all day. I don't even want to think about the air quality. (And yet I just checked, and the local air quality management district declares the air quality to be "Good." WTF?! The air is orange.)
I'm twitchy. That is, my legs twitch--a lot--in my sleep, apparently all through the night. Poor Mr. Trillwing is sleep-deprived as a result, which can make him very, very cranky. I dropped a note to Dr. Wonderful, and she said it may actually be--I kid you not--restless legs syndrome, that "disease" everyone makes fun of as totally fabricated by the pharmaceutical companies. That's what I get for deriding it. Remind me to be far less arrogant about cancer and heart disease, OK?
Dr. Wonderful also mentioned that the twitching is probably just a mild (and benign!) form of myoclonus. Yeah, that's one word you don't want to enter into Dr. Google, and especially not into Dr. Wikipedia. Of course, as I'm typing this, I'm feeling twitching muscles in my arms, shoulders, and legs. Fuuuuuuuccccckk.
OK, enough paranoid hypochondriac keyword searches for one evening. I'll get a good night's sleep (starting right now) and call tomorrow to set up an appointment with Dr. Wonderful. (Seriously, I'm not that worried, as I have a history of having scary symptoms that end up being benign. It's meant a whole lot of fun tests, my favorite being the one where a neurology technician attached nodes to my scalp with Elmer's glue. The other option was inserting needles into the scalp. Who the hell would choose needles over glue?)