The Weakness of Our Flesh; the Strength of Adult Diapers

I mean actual physical weakness by the title. Heather and I are ill again! Hopefully it's just a bad cold. Some will say that this is due to neglect of coat-wearing. I offer this linguistic evidence that my infection didn't actually come from lack of warmth: when it got worse, we didn't begin to call it a "freezing." The physicians agree with the linguists.

In an effort to get Heather a nap, I took the older three shopping for the bulk of the day. What did she do? Cleaned, baked, cooked, organized. And, oh yeah, cared for the twins. What a wife and mother! Thanks be to God.

Karissa was in a diaper. I was in no condition to be changing a handful of underwear. So, of course, she did great. Told me when she needed to go. Held it until we got there. Kept her diaper clean. Hey--if all it takes is a diaper, I see size extra-small depends in her near future.

The twins are growing like weeds. And it's getting frighteningly easy to see Kes and Emmet as future-adults.

That concludes our summary. I'm going home. I didn't get half the work done that I was hoping to after we got back, and if I am going to get twice the work done tomorrow, then I'd better sleep.