Please allow me to wallow in self-pity for a moment. I think one of the worst things about feeling less-than-well is when everyone else in the house continues on the "mom can hack it" continuum. I managed to make roasted chicken and taters for lunch without a side of barf while my loving husband sat and started at me from the kitchen table. Apparently, dinner from my sick-ass is still desirable above his usual self-made Ramen noodles. (For the record, I wasn't barfing, but was having the I'm dizzy-and-nauseous thing going on). I hadn't really told him I was completely awful, but for the love of all things holy, I wasn't standing up straight! And for all you free-thinkers, no I am definitely not pregnant...
Meanwhile, Little Diva has some sort of eye-booger action happening and it doesn't appear to be pink eye... but it could be. Of course, it is accompanied by some sort of cough and snot thing, so perhaps the congestion has just found a new outlet through her eye sockets. Until this point, we'd had a pretty good couple of years as a mainly snot-free zone, in which I greatly reveled.
Remember how I said weeks ago that we'd need ass pads to get through parenting? Well, I guess now I need mine, not only to protect my ass from Mother Nature's foot, but also because I want to sit down and EVERYTHING IN MY HOUSE IS COATED WITH A LAYER OF SNOT!
I'm going to bed (again). And when I awake in the morning, *poof* my house magically will be clean and I will be the poster child of wellness.