for the Americans

I'm still a Dutch citizen, so I can't vote in U.S. elections, but I'm very interested in politics, and I'm anxiously observing the forming of the presidential slate. I'm trying not to make this blog too much about politics and such since that isn't its purpose and I know our readers are all over the map politically.

Nonetheless, I confess that I fail to see much way to go but up at this point in time, and if you care to know which candidates support your views best, here are a couple of "candidate match" links.

Completely unrelated:

Love is:
Sitting in a toddler bed, holding your sleepy toddler son in your arms as he leans back against you and gets another nebulizer treatment for his wheezing, having him hold one of each of your hands in his smaller ones and occasionally rub it against his cheek, and knowing by the end of the treatment that a hard squeeze means he wants to hear Away In A Manger again. I'm not happy that Oli*ver needs the neb, but I could have sat there another hour, it was so peaceful and sweet.

Even more love is:
Watching your husband bring the wheezy, coughing boy downstairs and settle him half upright on the couch with him, the two of them nestled together, exhausted, because they'll both sleep better that way. Jo*el has always done "night duty" along with me, and in some ways he does it much better because he falls back to sleep so easily whereas I am up if I get up in the night. And he doesn't ever complain, he just does it. I am so completely, utterly grateful for that.

Ollie's doctors are reluctant to give him a final asthma diagnosis at this point, because some kids do still grow out of it before age 3 or 4, but it does seem like he needs breathing treatment with just about every cold now, and he often has croup as well. He'll outgrow the croup, but I wouldn't be at all surprised to spend more time in the ER this winter. At times like this, loving is painful -like your heart really is walking around outside your body, and you just want to gather your child up in your arms, squeeze him to you hard, and have that be enough. But it isn't. I know from my mother's reaction to my complicated pregnancy and my recent illness that this never really changes. I do appreciate this much more now that I've experienced it myself.