Oh universe...I know I was a rotten kid, but really? is my karma this bad?
Bah, it's not really that bad. This morning I woke up at 4am and Cora Bell was hot and very snotty sounding. So, naturally, I panicked. I am good at this when it comes to healthy (or not) children and germs. I cried as I took her temperature because my pediatrician's office has a policy of automatically hospitalizing babies under 2 months if they have a temp of 100.4 or above. Luckily, she was 100.07. Thank goodness for my good thermometer. She definitely has a cold, though. Poor baby. I also have a cold and I hope it's the same one then I can at least give her some of my antibodies and hopefully she'll get better soon. But I feel awful, my throat hurts and I am congested, so she mustn't feel good herself. Wiley is also sick but his sickness appears different, more of a chest cough and congestion. I've begged and threatened him not to kiss or even touch Cora Bell, but everytime I blink he's sneaking up to kiss her. He doesn't understand, but I'd like to run away with her for a few days...but, oh! I can't because York still has a broken shoulder. So I help him put on his pants and make him breakfast and neither of us has showered so we stink just because there's no time. (why aren't I showering now instead of writing this blog? because my sick baby is sleeping on me so she can breathe in a semi up-right positon, draining some of her mucous). As I was rushing us all out the door this morning the cats had left a mole head and pile of guts on the welcome mat. I tried picking this mess up, but the guts are squooshed on the mat, so I guess I have to scrub them off. It's gross. Really cats? Archer's healthy, though he's three, and so sometimes is interested in cooperating, but sometimes isn't--especially in the morning, like when it comes to getting dressed, he would rather remain naked or in his pajamas. The pajama thing isn't so bad, he's gone to Sherrill's many times in his pjs, but the naked thing is a pain. Or it's a pain when he wants his milk in a certain cup or wants his breakfast jelly sandwhich NOT CUT after I've already cut it. While I'm negotiating all this, picture me with my baby in one arm nursing her. Luckily it's been warm the last two days so I haven't had to make fires in the morning, which I did the first few days after York's accident. that sucked. Anyway, I dropped the boys off then helped York work I typed invoices, cropped photos, etc. for him and did some of my work (I'm working some from home again so I can "take" my fully paid 8 weeks--woohoo). Then I picked up Archer and dropped a package off at the post office for York and took Archer on a walk to get a cupcake; that was nice. Then we went to go get Wiley, York walked in to get him. Cora Bell started crying so I nursed her and we all sat in the car until she was finished. Wiley had pooped in his pants a bit at school. he was so embarrassed. He said he didn't tell his teachers, just changed his undies at school all by himself. So we started to drive home and made it about a mile when Wiley said he had to poop again. We stopped at a BP and Cora Bell started crying again so I nursed her until Wiley and York came out of the BP they got to the car then immediately turned around because he had to go again. When they finally got out to the car York looked at me and said "just drive home. No matter what any kid says or needs, just drive." It'd had been that kind of day/week. I just laughed and laughed. York said something about his broken shoulder and it not being laughable. But somedays you just gotta laugh, right.