My friend called me yesterday to ask if there was a full moon or something. I'm more inclined to think that it's 2008 just trying to screw us all in the ass one last time.
With almost one straight month of sick kids, a snorfling, coughing, and then puking barely 2 month old, and my mom in and out of the hospital, it's a struggle not to lose just a little hope in humanity. I'm even getting screwed over in my dreams (and not in a good way).
Even my damn laptop seems bitter, seeing as it only took me four minutes to type this sentence.
I mean, when the bright light in your daily existence is your son's new found and quite timely ability to blow his nose and your victorious aspiration of your baby's left nostril, then you know things are pretty damn rough.
I do my darndest to not allow my own happiness and state of well being to get wrapped up in my kids. But when they're moping around and rubbing snot in their eyes, it's hard not to do more than just empathize and go on my merry way to the never ending laundry piles.
So we're dancing to Christmas songs in between steam baths, and we're decorating holiday cards while we slug OJ.
And I'm doing what I can to sell my kids on the belief that this too shall pass.
She smiles through the snot