Musical accompaniment courtesy Mr. Louis Armstrong. Okay so the “so sweet, so cold, so fair” part is a bit of an exaggeration. I mean, they’re clammy, yes, but not cold. Certainly not in the sense implied. I do feel a bit like an infirmary worker, I will say that much.
Upside? I got these people in my life to care for, period. Jasureyoubetcha, as they say in all-one-word in my erstwhile adoptive home of Minnesota.
*By the way: Freedom to Marry Week started yesterday, and lots of people are writing and talking about it in one way or another. Mombian and Page One Q have something going on: The Only Agendais Love, and Freedom to Marry has Facebook, Myspace, and Twitter conversations going on. And Robin Reagler is hosting her Some/thing (Old, New, Borrowed, Blue) carnival again. I’d have hoped to have posted a little something for each venue (the Agenda carnival and the Some/thing one). The goal: find a fresh — and mutually uplifting? — take on the topic. Unfortunately, St. James’ Infirmary calls. Hope springs eternal that less will be springing internally, and soon.
Lesbian Dad is written by a parent who answers to the name "Baba" and works toward a world in which amor does indeed vincit omnia. 
* * Reader Advisory: Possible TMI * *
yep yep yep
I feel your pain
um, I’ll just say, we have a family bed and the first unexpected hurl came Saturday night at 3:30 a.m. about 8 inches from my face. my face.
it’s amazing what happens when you have a kid though. We managed to stay calm and clean things up and nobody freaked and all was well by the next afternoon. It’s an act of god that I haven’t gotten sick (knock on wood)
Ah, sister. This is where we scare all the non-parents and/or the squeamish people out of the room.
Waiting, waiting.
Okay, now. I am SO HAPPY for those 8 inches! Just think! Coulda been 6! Or 4! We won’t even go further.
I knew I was a real parent when — aw heck. I’ll just have to write this one to you directly. But anyway. It’s the baptism by _______ (fill in the blank with your favorite euphemism/slang word for You Know What).
Some nasty virulent stomach flu is tearing all over town, mebbe all over the Bay Area or the west coast right now, yet more sign of the decline of human civilization and the takeover of Superbugs immune to everything except the passage of time. For the sake of our other family members what need the tending to, may we both remain of strong constitution.
Hey! For some reason I am prohibited from commenting on your Something Old post above, so I am sneakily commenting here.
[Ed note: am copping Editorial License and sticking your comment where the sun shines brightly on it. Then figuring out why the post is spurining chit-chat. Many thanks, AZ
]
Our house is just now getting over the stomach flu, brought by out-of-town relatives during the funeral last week. My sympathies to you and yours – thankfully ours was short-lived (48 hours max). I’m hoping it’s the same in your house.
My shoes are cleaner than they’ve been since I bought them, thanks to the boy waking up at the end of the bed and christening them. I was never happier to have a working washing machine.