Wallowing

Later, when I've had some sleep, I'll look back on this and roll my eyes. But for right now...

Let's indulge in a few moments of self-pity, shall we? Q's sitting on my lap, head full of snot, happily kicking a small stack of papers into submission. He went down at about 12:15, and got up at about three to nurse. The ibuprofen had worn off and he had a fever again. While we waited for the next dose to kick in he passed the time by crying. At 4:58 he fell asleep, suddenly and hard. I laid him down a couple of minutes after 5 and he slept until about 6:30. More crying. Finally, exhausted, he laid on his boppy, bundled up on the floor, with Elmo's World on PBS. I petted his little ears and neck and he slept again at 7:30.

(whispering) I don't know if I can do this again tonight. The tears are just leaking out. I have a stack of papers to attend to, appointments to schedule, and cleaning/organizing to do.

Meanwhile, school and dishes are getting done. Somehow, things always continue. My folks will be here again this evening without having to head out to work tomorrow, so I'm sure tonight will be a little easier. Not that they couldn't use some sleep of their own. E just came and took the boy off my lap to play with toys, so I'm going to go get his next round of meds going and maybe clean the bathroom. Shoot, maybe I'll even get a shower. (smiles)

Okay. Tears over. This episode of Being Overwhelmed has been brought to you by our friend estrogen. And now we're moving on.

Church and kids' choir tomorrow morning, then in the evening we're making Valentines for our loved ones. We will have chocolate, of course, and some of the Apricot Pecan Amish Frenemy Bread* we made last night. It'll be great fun. The Christmas cactus, now renamed the Valentine cactus, has a baker's dozen of fat buds on it, each in a different stage of not yet blooming.

And now the kidlets are congregating, looking for jobs to do to tidy up. Awww. (Who are these children and where did they come from? Maybe mommy should cry more often. Snort.)

Have a luverly weekend, all.



*We now have twelve bags of starter. Visit this house at your peril -- you will be leaving with at least two of those bags somewhere on your person. It is useless to resist us.