Thoughts are whirling around ... so much packed into a single day. And so much still to do.

In addition to it being all-sorts-of-bad-things-Awareness Month, October is a harrowing time for me.

Ittybit has the BIG dentist appointment next week wherein they will dope her up and drill holes in her mouth so they can fill the decay that is forming there. I don't usually bite my nails, but am considering taking up the filty habit just for this nervous-breakdown event.

(I'd appreciate it if you could think of us next Thursday. I'm not above praying to a god I don't believe in (Hypocrite!) if it will have any affect on keeping my little corner of the world safe from complications.)

Today the Champ had his urology appointment to check his hydronephrosis. I had to hold him - kicking and screaming - through a 20-minute ultrasound, and then wait for the doctor's consultation for another 45 minutes, during which he wriggled, wailed and begged to "GO HOME."

The upside of the two-hour scream/wait-fest is that his kidney, "while not substantially better, is certainly no worse." They don't want to see him again until next October.

Of course the two OTHER pieces of good news in this medically trying day happened as we were waiting for them to call his name -- 1. They pronounced it correctly and didn't yell "CIALIS;" and 2. A little boy went up to Silas and pushed him pretty hard. I was ready to deal with Silas striking back, but instead he told the little boy in the BIG BOY voice, "YOU NOT PUSH ME!, OK?"

The kid's answer: "OK!"

And just like that the problem solved without consternation or intervention.

I'm not sure if I really had anything to do with The Champ using his words instead of his fists, but I'm still going to lick my finger and take the point:

SCORE ONE against Domestic Violence.