The Toddler is sick. A sniffleupagus has invaded her body, causing warm skin, flushed face, and a river of snot. Other than that she's feeling just fine; and perfectly willing to carry on her daily life. I fear she has infected me. Not a great fear, mind you, just the acceptance that whatever my child has I'm going to get as a matter of course. This is the price paid by mothers as we tend the kids; as we wipe noses, let them cough all over us, and cuddle them long into the night so they can breathe just that little bit better.

My problem seems to be that not only can I not get comfortable today, my throat is scratchy and I'm thirsty. I could drink a river. Well, a stream. Possibly a rivulet. Although I'd much prefer a never-ending bottle of cold water. I keep falling asleep on my side. I don't want to move. There were a couple really good things that happened here today, and I'm going to concentrate on them as I prepare to hunker down for a long night spent resting and recovering (?!) from this malaise. But I think I can probably chalk the majority of it up to the pregnancy.