Four movements, one post.

Baby: I've been a parent for nearly 8 months and the hardest thing is getting over everything ONCE. A couple of months ago P had a nasty cold...you know, congestion, coughing, snot everywhere, gagging on mucous and all sorts of other awful descriptions. But we got over it, and now we know how. Last Friday marked the beginning of "The First GI Illness." Non-stop vomiting. Out of sorts. Ugh. But now she's on the mend. We got over it. Life is no longer inexplicably crappy for Little Miss and she can get back to the business of flinging Sophie the Giraffe.

Rock: There were two lines standing in the way of a finished song, and it turns out they were the following:

You try to keep me guessing

I try to tell you I don't care.

Girl band practice soon.

Philosophy: How can I now avoid devastation when I finally have so much I could lose? Does the desire to remain strong in the face of loss have any place in my life any more?

Life: When did the word "mommy" become a way of describing action instead of a noun? Mommy blogger? Mommy guilt? Mommy rage? Give it a rest. Make it possessive, or better yet...never mind, I'm going to get myself in trouble.