What's that? New carpet? blurg

In somewhat of a departure from the normal (if you can call them that) blog posts here on Words of White, I wanted to share a domestic disagreement that Holly and I have been having lately regarding Holly's recent barrage of puke stories on this here blog. Holly feels she's giving the people what they want, I feel it's cringe-worthy TMI, my two sisters were called in to mediate. Krista's solution: everybody loves a little conflict, so air the grievances right on the blog. The following is excerpted from an email conversation among myself, Holly, Krista, and Kara.

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Listen, I love a good poop joke as much as the next guy, but things have gotten a little out of hand on our friendly little family blog. I don't know whether the isolation of maternity leave has left Holly with some type of post-partum Stockholm Syndrome (wherein she is sympathizing with her captor, Levi's, misdeeds), or if this is just what happens when Holly is allowed to run unchecked (e.g. the "Commando Incident").*

For cross-examination, allow me to add some commentary to a portion of the latest blog post. My reactions in brackets:

I may have mentioned this before, but Levi has become a champion spit-upper [a fact. and one that i'm sure many parents identify with]. I keep finding random spots in our house covered in spit-up that I forgot to clean up (forgetting is one of the things I do best these days) [kinda gross; kinda funny; kinda makes you not want to visit us any time soon]. On the floor outside his room, on our (luckily leather) couch, on his little playmat on the floor, on my shoe... [OK, getting a little too visual]

We actually had another real-live puke incident again last night [uh oh. i know where this is going]. He spit up a little bit after eating quite a large dinner, and then it. just. kept. coming. [look! an unintentional metaphor for this blog post!] I literally just held him at arm's length and pointed him away from me (standing on the lower landing of the stairs) [thank you, Ayn Rand, for the thorough use of setting] as regurgitated milk covered the floor, baseboards, me, him, yes. everything [have you lost your mind?? on what planet is this an OK thing to say to a crowd?]. And then hilariously, while I dashed upstairs to strip our now soaking wet outfits, Tim appeared and laid paper towels down on the stairs [what's wrong with that?]. (Anyone seen that clip from Big Daddy where Adam Sandler just lays down newspaper wherever the little dude spills something??) [oh...] In Tim's defense, he was in the middl of cooking dinner and couldn't really be out of the kitchen, [thanks for not totally throwing me under the bus] but it was pretty funny to walk down the stairs and just see paper towels covering up the mess everywhere. And that, is reason #465 why we will always have hardwood floors, people. [really? that was your "wrap up?" Do you want me to write a follow-up piece titled, "What It Sounded Like From The Kitchen?"]

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I think I make a pretty strong argument there. So we're kicking around the idea of settling the dispute by limiting Holly to one "best of" style bodily function post per month. You know, just Levi's greatest hits. We'll call it the "Barf Blog" or something, and if you're faint of stomach, you can just skip it. That way, Holly will have an outlet for her motherhood war stories, and I'll have plenty of fodder for follow-up posts like this one. We'll keep churning out the funny as long as Levi keeps churning out the... well, you know.

*Holly's clarification: "the commando incident that Tim is referring to is not, in fact, an incident in which I myself went commando and then "ran unchecked." Just wanted to make sure that was clear."