Sam actually slept almost the entire way to Pittsburgh, allowing me to sit up front and talk to Eric. We checked into our hotel (an Amerisuites for only thirty bucks a night; thank you, Priceline!) and went to a bookstore to wait for my parents to get into town. Sam went back to sleep in the meantime, which I didn't discourage; in the end, he was able to stay awake for the entire evening with my parents.

Mom and Dad showed up, we laughed and hugged, and they brought out presents for Sam. After dinner, we all went down to the hotel pool and let Mom give him his second try at swimming (not counting his birth, of course). He didn't disappoint. Sam kicked, splashed, and tried to "swim" on his belly for a good half-hour before getting cold and wanting to rest. A warm shower revived him instead of knocking him out, so we spent more playtime with the grandparents until bedtime.

Sunday was my birthday. Mom and Dad gave me presents at the hotel: two nursing shirts and a candle. After checkout, my Dad decided he wanted to go to the zoo. That was a great decision, and one with which we could all agree.

I must say, though, that whoever designed the escalator entrance to the zoo must have been on some serious recreational substances. It was a very steep, tall escalator, and the tunnel that encased it looked as though it had been propped up against the hill; all the windows and support beams reclined at a forty-five degree angle making all of us feel as though we were falling. I've never before experienced vertigo, but I came close that day.

Other than that the day was an unqualified success. My mother carried Sam in the sling for most of the day, which just about melted my heart. We hadn't brought the stroller, and although we were able to rent one, it only carried our bags and purses. My mom makes one groovy attachment grandma, I must say.

Sam's favorite part of the zoo, far and above, was the aquarium. He's my little water baby! He stood in front of the tanks and watched the fish swim back and forth, back and forth. "What four-month-old does this?" Mom mused as Sam's head swiveled from right to left and back again to follow them in their path.

At the end of the aquarium was a dolphin tank, the occupant of which was resting in a far corner. Mom and Dad went to the adjacent gift store, leaving me with Sam and Eric. Suddenly the dolphin woke up and swam right over to us. He looked for all the world as though he was checking out this brightly-clad baby human standing before him. Sam stayed perfectly still, frozen in surprise. My breath almost caught in my throat at the beauty of the moment.

The dolphin wasn't the only gregarious beast of the day, though. Later in the afternoon, Dad was holding Sam in the petting zoo area when a gigantic camel strode over to investigate my son. Sam didn't panic at all; he reached out and touched the animal's nose with a finger. Even bystanders tried to get a picture of that particular scene.

All in all, the day was almost perfect. Sam really only fussed once, and I was able to nurse him in the sling to settle him as we walked around. On the way out, though, Sam couldn't handle the odd escalator. He was apparently feeling as dizzy and disoriented as the rest of us, for he suddenly tried to lean backward out of my arms in an apparent attempt to right himself. Then he screamed. As I tried to console him, I felt a strong and unreasonable urge to find a park official and complain about the design of the escalator. Surely, though, we weren't the only people to feel that way while riding it, and people must have complained before. What could an official do? Nobody was around, in any event.

It didn't spoil the beauty of the day too much, though. I can't remember ever having a happier birthday.

Eric is internalizing the pain, as is his usual routine. Whereas I would be a needy basket-case over similar events with my own parents, he just wants to be left alone. I hugged him and tried to comfort him, but he seemed oblivious to my attempts. I don't know how to help him.

If you pray, pray for her. If you light candles, do that. As much as I've disagreed with and dreaded her in the past, I do love her. Sam needs his grandma, too.