Samantha has her first cold. It's really heart-rending to hear her little coughs and sneezes and her raspy voice when she tries to coo at you.

Amy and I are also wretchedly sick this week with the same cold, but have been taking turns sitting up at night holding Sam on our chests or shoulders in the big reclining chair so she can sleep upright. She seems much more comfortable and less congested when she's vertical than when she's horizontal. I think the infant Motrin she's getting (on her doctor's advice) is also helping. Of course, this means neither Amy nor I have slept much in the past couple of days, so we're both pretty much the walking dead. But that's also part of parenthood, isn't it?

Samantha actually seems to be doing the best of any of us -- she coughs and sneezes, but she hasn't cried much at all, her appetite is pretty good, and every once in a while she tries to smile at us. That's quite something if she's feeling half as bad as Amy and I are. How can you not love such a kid?