Complaints
I'm annoyed because I started draining again yesterday, and woke up this morning with low energy and a lovely cough (attempting to clear out the crap in my chest). I had all these ideas for stuff to do today since Andrew and I are both at home (it being his Friday off), but what little energy I had is getting mostly expended with coughing. And I never got completely over my cough after the last time I was sick (before Christmas). It's different today, though -- my chest feels tighter and the gunk in there isn't loose like it has been. Starting to wonder if maybe the cough has morphed to bronchitis or something. If I'm not feeling substantially better after the weekend, I guess I'll look into making a doctor's appointment.
And Corwin has a runny nose today, to boot. He told me before naptime that he was going to go straight to bed with no book and no singing (even though his behavior had been reasonably good and he hadn't been threatened with this as consequences at all), and when it got to be time for the naptime routine he crawled straight into his bed, said again he didn't want a book or singing, let me cover him up and give him a kiss, and leave the room. And he didn't start crying because I took him at his word, either. He babbled for a few minutes, and then went to sleep. So I'm pretty sure he's sick, too. Fun!
And now, I'm off to summon what little energy I have left to cook the chicken soup I got ingredients for at the store this week. I figured between Andrew and I having two full days at home this weekend and nowhere we were likely to want to go due to weather (i.e. shopping errands), I'd finally have the time to make a 3 hour stew. Sadly, I lack the energy or strong desire to make it now, but I need to get busy anyway since I won't have the time again any time soon. At least chicken soup is good when I'm sick. :)
Why, oh why must we be sick when we actually have time to get things accomplished around here?
And Corwin has a runny nose today, to boot. He told me before naptime that he was going to go straight to bed with no book and no singing (even though his behavior had been reasonably good and he hadn't been threatened with this as consequences at all), and when it got to be time for the naptime routine he crawled straight into his bed, said again he didn't want a book or singing, let me cover him up and give him a kiss, and leave the room. And he didn't start crying because I took him at his word, either. He babbled for a few minutes, and then went to sleep. So I'm pretty sure he's sick, too. Fun!
And now, I'm off to summon what little energy I have left to cook the chicken soup I got ingredients for at the store this week. I figured between Andrew and I having two full days at home this weekend and nowhere we were likely to want to go due to weather (i.e. shopping errands), I'd finally have the time to make a 3 hour stew. Sadly, I lack the energy or strong desire to make it now, but I need to get busy anyway since I won't have the time again any time soon. At least chicken soup is good when I'm sick. :)
Why, oh why must we be sick when we actually have time to get things accomplished around here?