So, I am sick. I mean, like I have been in bed for two days, sick. My throat is as big as.... something big and my head hurts like.... something that hurts bad. And my ears hurt, too. Sorry, trouble thinking.
Anyway, I ventured downstairs tonight and Jack looks like a poor white trash toddler and my kids haven't had their hair brushed for school in two days, and my kitchen floor has some sort of sticky residue all over it. The dining room looks like it threw up Valentine's cards and treats. And I keep finding bits of red lollipop all over the place, I think where Jack must have dropped pieces of his happy find.
I asked Laura tonight what she had for breakfast. "Oh, a granola bar. It was AWESOME." She's been watching Yo Gabba Gabba, obviously.
"What did you have for dinner?" "Waffles and girl scout cookies." Well, at least it wasn't McDonalds. And that probably explains the sticky residue on the floor.
Gary's doing pretty well though, I think, considering the whole work-full-time thing while meshing the raising of the children and running of the household. Not as well as I would have done, but you can't all be me.
And they are alive and uninjured (save for Jack's big bump on his noggin).
So I took more Tylenol, nibbled on a Tagalong, and I am going back to bed.
I wish my children the best of luck.