All day long, here and there, I've felt like crying. I don't really know why nor do I think we have to attribute something to everything. Is Mercury in retrograde? Are there solar flares? Are half the animal species of the earth truly gone forever? Sophie has had several days of increased seizures. Last night, I heard the telltale cry as Carmen was bathing her. I burst into the bathroom to help. Sophie lay naked, fully exposed and jerking. Carmen was crouched down in the tub, holding her under the arms, protecting her head. Her legs were banging into the sides of the tub, her toes twisted. I reached down under her knees, and together Carmen and I lifted her up and out of the tub, lay her down on the tile floor, grabbed towels to cover her. There's not much worse for me in Seizure Land than the naked bathtub seizure. Even today, as Oliver and I filled one of Moye's beautiful bowls with cactus blend, carefully placed a few little cacti in, sprinkled tiny pebbles and sparkly stones around them, and placed an air plant in the hole at the top of the vintage baby, I saw Sophie's eyes in my head, dark and implacable. Is she ok? one of the boys called out from the kitchen last night, and I said, Yes. Go ahead and start dinner. We ate Korean-style beef on skewers and rice and broccoli slaw. Carmen brought Sophie into the kitchen and fed her while the boys and I finished up. Contrary to what you might think, I never, ever get used to it. The fit, the flare, the start, the life goes on.