I feel like writing about exhilarating nausea today. Anyone else in? Yesterday, I watched The Husband and I take turns melting down. For me, the near-meltdown came after managing to deliver both children and myself to an Easter egg hunt without visible signs of puke, poop or panting. (OK, possibly some visible panting, but I couldn’t think of a third “p” word.) The Husband had feigned the plague to take a nap (no punches pulled, sweetheart – welcome to my blog), and I had stupidly worn cute but irrational wedges to a lawn party. <forehead slap> Only a Parmatini from my favorite sushi restaurant kept me from exploding in a smokestorm of frayed espadrille and damp, wild-and-frizzy curls. Today, I watched about 45 minutes…