create a sacred space

Max is extremely ill right now, not life threateningly or anything melodramatic like that, just dinner spewingly sick. Yup, to paraphrase Stephen Sondheim, everything's coming up. period. No roses yet, unless he ate some when I wasn't looking. This is blogworthy because in our incredibly lucky experience of slightly under two cases, our kid never chucks. Like never. So I'm a little uncomfortable with the whole thing, although Leah more than makes up for it. She's doing the whole florence nightingale thing, knowing exactly what to do when all my instincts are telling me to just run from the apartment screaming. The best part is that whatever he's got it's highly contagious and its only symptom is the upchuck, which puts me in the position of ticking time bomb of vomit, a place I'd rather not be.

I'm already not feeling totally well, and I've spent the better part of the last two days at home catching up on rest. And DVD's. Also, my PVR is emptied out so that's going back tomorrow, providing I'm not "calling earl" all morning. I'm also looking forward to having a recovering child at home that doesn't want to do anything but watch cartoons and sip flat ginger ale, something I was hoping to do anyways what with the new Golden collection of Looney Tunes arriving by mail today.

I've made a stack of unwatched DVD's that now numbers around 40, so I'm hoping if I can hit 1 per night between now and the end of the year that I should be all caught up for 2005. I'm not betting on it, though.

Taking a week off from poker to watch the inevitable but disappointing election results made me a bit rusty last night, as the two bad beats and general lack of profit can attest. On the plus side those donuts Adam brought were delicious. Next week more concentration and fewer donuts ought to be the order of the day.