That's One Weird Looking Kid!

Yesterday while on our way to Landstuhl for Wil to take needles in the spine, we started talking about the possibility of a weird looking kid, with whom we might end up. Let's face it, with Wil's enormous melon, my Asian features, his baby buck teeth, my severe nearsightedness and poofy curly hair, we might have just made the oddest looking hybrid ever. Together, we imagined a small-built, tanned little boy who kept tumbling over because his little body was not strong enough to bare the weight of his overwhelming head. He was wearing really thick glasses to correct his vision, and possibly crossed eyes. Their sizable stature dwarfed his little face and made his eyes looked like they belonged behind a fish tank. He might be speaking with a lisp. While I was freaking out that this baby might never have a date and eventually give me grandbabies, Wil wisely interjected, "it could be worse. We could have a little girl. Then I really wouldn't have to worry about boys." Needless to say, we are very anxious about the next ultrasound on December 18, when we'll find out both the sex of the baby and the degree of cuteness, or the lack thereof. All kidding aside, we would be forever thankful for a healthy little person. The 21st century has greatly improved the quality of hair product, contact lenses, and orthodontics. Lord knows my growing pain would have been more manageable if they were introduced to me earlier. Like in 3rd grade. Seriously, my parents friends still tell me "you look so much BETTER!" whenver they see me. And that is meant as a compliment. Did I psychoanalize myself just now? Anyway, to borrow a line from "Steel Magnolias," I'm certainly hoping for Wil's good look and my sense of style for this baby. But then again I refused to wear anything else beside my yellow rubber rain boots for years as a toddler. Sigh. At least he would have a great sense of humor. He would need that to survive this household and school.

Wil is doing as well as one can expect after the procedure. He's very sore and can't get around very well. Yesterday's discogram, which small amount of fluid was injected into 2 of his discs to verify that they were indeed causing pain, should be the last step to multitude of tests he has had to endure before the surgery. Now we wait for his neurosurgeon to review the result and CT scan. Please let it be before I get ridiculously huge and am unable to help him move around the house. I'm also looking for a reliable and very strong dog walker. Our dear friends have volunteered to come over and walk the boys for us, but I'd hate to subject good friends to that kind of torture. To their credit, the boys are being good sports. They seem to know that Papa is not well, and Paddy resolves to sleep next to Wil on the floor, as supposed to on top of him on the bed like usual. Brutus just quietly sits in his chair keeping his eyes on us the whole time. I'm going to teach them to dial 911 just in case.

P.S. Wil's getting a cane! It's temporary to help him move about, but I'm totally painting flames on it to make it look like Dr. House's cane.