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The whole house is down for the count. Greg flew to D.C. on business last week and brought home a great gift–a nice flu bug. I’m singing, All I Want For Christmas Is a Good Night’s Sleep… I’ll be back to checking email and blogging badly after this passes.

Before I go, a quick story. There was this family who used to live behind us with 10 kids. Greg never wondered aloud about how they “did it.” Instead, Greg kept saying, “Can you imagine what it’s like when they all get sick?” Ha. Throw in a newborn who doesn’t sleep, and I totally know now.

Am I complaining? Wah. Oh, and my girls got dolls that cry. I told them to not push those buttons on the babies until things get better around here.

How do folks distinguish big kids from little kids? What is the line of demarcation? Ours is not potty training. It’s not moving up to a big bed. It’s not kindergarten. Here’s what it is: when you’re old enough to make it to the bathroom without throwing up on yourself. That’s when you’re a big kid.

Merry Christmas to all our family and friends. I hope it is a good one for you. Drop us a line, a link, an email or whatever and let us know what’s going on.