(Pardon the dust as I catch up and get back to speed after a glorious week+ off :)
This is a post I hope Mike can relate to when he’s an adult.
Mrs. F: you rock!
Ditto. Also see: white toddler clothes, and white kid clothes.
I understand. It is not that you want another child to suffer through colic. You just want another parent in a medical profession to suffer through having an infant with colic. (Payback is a bitch isn’t it?)
Go vote for the funny!
Going to Blogher? Check in with Izzy. Check my sidebar to see when I’m going.
“The other parents suddenly fixate on their shoes…”
Fuck. I don’t have anything else.
“Somehow, the handyman convinced me that this was my fault, although he did offer to drill a few holes in the ceiling free of charge, ‘to let the water out.'” Whoa.
Check out Vodkarella — fantastic list! (And I hate lists.) “Unsubscribe is the new black here.” Snort.
You’re still wrong. Coke Zero (and the heaven that is Cherry Coke Zero) is the best.
Have you been looking for Peg?
Hey Jessica: fucking right on — I love it. Those kids need someone.
Brains can be wonderful. They force you to have thoughts like this so that you are ever-vigilant and don’t let the events happen for real.
Brains can be a pain in the ass when they refuse to catch up to you.
Imagine 3 generations from now. Whoa…
I have to say that this is an interesting complaint given the name of the blog!
The title says it all, and I’m just glad it all turned out OK.
Hey, she and I are kindred spirits. I tell my kids that I’ll set their bones myself.
And that answer would be no.