sick and tired

I am not a fan of winter. Yeah, it would be fun to have some actual, measurable snow that would allow for my children to experience the thrill of flying down a hill toward their inevitable mild injury, and yes, it's just grand to sit by a roaring fire in our wood-burning stove until the living room feels like Bermuda. But. With winter comes the unstoppable force that is The Germ. It doesn't matter that I wash my hands approximately 437 times each day, The Germ still manages to find a way into my home, settling down for the long haul in the respiratory tracts of me and my loved ones.

JAM usually gets away with pretty mild symptoms- a sore throat here, a scratchy voice there, and this time is no different. Red is a little further on the spectrum, with a faucet for a nose... which she insists is simply too good for tissues, allowing only her left sleeve to function as a wiping instrument. And then there's Pudge. The poor kid has drippiness all over, and a cough that doesn't do much but make me want to clear my own throat incessantly. Add my 70 pound head to the mix, and there's just no happiness to be found around here. For now, lovely hubby seems to have missed the incubation period while he was living it up in Vegas, but I'm sure he'll catch up soon enough.

So that covers the sick part, and the tired part goes without saying. If I had my druthers (whatever that might be), I think I could sleep for days and days-- just throw me a few chocolates every few hours with a small glass of milk, and I'd be ecstatic. For now, I guess I'll have to settle for a 30 minute nap now, hoping that the kids don't cough themselves awake too soon.

In love with DayQuil,