Update: Labor Day and the Serious Condition

Do you ever feel like your life is (very) full of stuff, just not reportable stuff? We had a good weekend trying to eek out projects, but if I say that, you will get a wrong impression that we actually got a lot accomplished, and will think if you come it will look awesome. Sorry to disappoint. However, clean little crannies (can you say this word without "nooks"? I wanted to try it out), anyways, I like the few clean crannies. (Yeah, it doesn't work, but I'm going to continue to force the issue.)


Andrew had roseola this weekend, and maybe Noah, too. And maybe me and Gary, too (nah, but it was something achey. But nothing that can't go away with drugs, so it was close to nothing.) So, although roseola isn't a big deal, it made me reflect on human nature. Namely, it seems like things with a name are a bigger deal. For example, someone can be sicker than a dog with flu, almost unto hospitalization, but it's "just the flu" as far as how you have to report it to others. However, if somebody gets themselves tested, even someone with mild symptoms, and it's swine flu, then immediately that person is far sicker than anyone else whose disease has no name. So therefore, I feel that my reporting of roseola bears more weight than the usual, even though I know it wasn't a huge deal.

I discovered a conference talk I'd forgotten about in preparation for my lesson in RS, and I had a great experience with it, so maybe you will, too. Here's a link.

As for labor day, it was half laborious/half rest. We started out the day by declaring Junk Day, and ate doughnuts for breakfast and let Josh rent Superhero Squad. Then the labor portion - Gary repaired the infamous dresser, so pray for its continued health. I did Stuff, too. Enough stuff to make us late for the barbeque we went to, but we got there eventually, and it was fun and delicious. It was with some friends from high school, and it was so good to kick back and laugh.

Andrew is standing on his own, and Noah is completely obsessed with stuffed animals. He has been for a while, but now he has to have 8-10 on his bed at night. If you try to kick one off, he says, "No, he's nice."

UPDATE: Andrew took a step on his own tonight (and promptly tumbled, but it was still cute), and I found the same spots as he had on me last night. So maybe Andrew didn't have roseola? His condition has just been downgraded to nameless. Phew, so much less serious! And tomorrow is Friday - that is serious.