Terry McMillan -- whose celebrated romance and subsequent marriage to a man 23 years her junior became the subject of her fictionalized best-seller "How Stella Got Her Groove Back" -- actually got her groove back with a man who now says he's gay.
Oh, yes. Read the story here.
I feel for her, but come on. How amazing is that? (I won't say ironic, although I am quite sure that phrase is being bandied about.) And you can bet your life her next book is going to be something about the brothas on the Down Low. Mm-hmm.
Getting My Groove Back
As for me, I am still sick and worn out. I am sending Viva back to preschool tomorrow and I'm just going to ignore all the phlegm and act like I'm better. What else can I do? I've been taking medicines, trying to take it easy, and plying Viva with whatever I can get into her (and keep into her -- she has this irritating habit of either spitting medicine out or, even better, throwing it up). It helped that Sweet Willie took Viva Night Duty for a few days so I could get some rest. Ain't he a daisy? Viva is getting better, but I feel like I am in some sort of sickness holding pattern. Thoroughly sick of it.
Ha! No pun intended in that last line! Whee, these are the jokes today, folks. Aren't you scared for me?
Whizzing to Number One!
Despite Viva's sickness, she's been a potty training powerhouse. For most of last week, we were averaging one wet diaper a day. She occasionally poops in her Pull-Up* (maybe once a week), but for the most part, she is really good about telling me she has to get to the bathroom. Ironically, she is better about telling me when we are out in public and she has to pee -- I guess at home she gets too caught up in what she's doing and doesn't want to take a break, thus the accidents. But she is also starting to stay dry all night, which is HUGE. HUGE!
My friend M is grossed out by the idea of potty training, particularly the poop aspect of it. I can't imagine why he would feel that way, when it is the most glamorous part of my job. In truth, it is actually not that pleasant to sit next to someone as they plop one out, and to behave as if what they have just done is the Most Amazing Thing in the History of the World. Indeed, more than once I have lit a stick of incense after one of these sessions and congratulated myself on my superlative acting skills.
* Please note that when I Googled "pull-up pamper" it led me to many links to that Fabolous song, "Not Give a Fuck." How darling! Here's a taste:
When I pull up like the pamper brand,
Those in the lambo slants,
With a madame from france,
With a ass so big,
You couldn’t hide it in hammer pants...
I don't make this stuff up. My talents lie in other areas...like drawing, which I've been doing a lot of lately. More on this in my next post. Toodles!
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