Hi Punkin!

when I read that he drove himself to the hospital because the ambulance would not go through the drive though, I *may* have laughed out loud.

Truth? I stole that line from the aforementioned source-of-tagline Titus. (But only because it's TRUE.)

I've always gotten the sense from you, though, that you think it's better to push on past that which causes stress, rather than to coddle/enable/malinger. Am I wrong on that?

For me, but different people like different shit. t /Jesse

I've always gotten the sense from you, though, that you think it's better to push on past that which causes stress, rather than to coddle/enable/malinger. Am I wrong on that?

For me, but different people like different shit.

But not pushing on through *doesn't* equal malingering/coddling/enabling. And -- please correct me if I'm wrong -- I get the feeling that you think that it *does.*

Which, when I'm unable to shrug off a stressor, makes me feel like I'm a malingering failure for not being able to push on through.

Does that make sense?

Ugh. We're doing all that stuff to try and keep her cool, but she's still hovering around 103. I've put in a call both to her primary doctor and my mother the nurse.

We'll see what they say. Hopefully, if the doctor wants her to come in, he'll have us just come to his clinic and check us out in person, rather than having her go to an ER and get admitted. She really doesn't want to go back to the hospital at all.

New Buffista phrase - flipping out like a ninja (like flipping out like a mammal but with added homicide potential).

But ninjas flip out like mammals.

And totally kill people.

Ah, shit, Sean. Fuckity. I'm vibing fever-breakage southward, but since I'm battling my own Matilda-induced throat gunk and general crappitude I'm not sure how effective my ~ma is at the moment. I am gonna pull together a small care package, though -- does S have any particular trashy magazines/novel genres/sudoku/crosswords/acrostics/knitty stuff/other mindless distractors she'd particularly like?

Also -- damn, I can't believe how much I'm missing Matilda. Yesterday she fried me to little crispy bits with her sad red-eyed droopy sickness (though not sick enough to just lie around droopily -- she was sick but clingy and incessantly squirming and fidgeting; I was able to set her down for exactly one nap in the late afternoon, and the entire rest of the day and most of the night she was in my arms) and I couldn't wait for today to come so I could have a bit of breathing room.

And now that I'm at my desk at work like a grown-up, my arms are hungry and my lips keep reaching for the top of her head and her hands and the crook of her neck, and she's not there.

Parenthood=Craxyland.

But ninjas flip out like mammals.

Unless they are turtles.