Charlie has been sick for a few days, and shrieking at all hours of the night for a few nights now. I am tired.
No, I am exhausted.
At 6:30 this morning, both Charlie and Cubby were up. I managed to get Charlie to actually eat something--his total food intake for over 24 hours stood at two bites of grilled cheese and four spoonfuls of rice, plus milk--and instructed Cubby to get himself a banana.
When we retired to the living room to play and they both grabbed two animals each to start fighting each other, I decided my presence was really unnecessary.
So I came into the dining room, shut the door behind me, and got another cup of coffee.
That was fifteen minutes ago. Cubby just came into the dining room to inquire about the whereabouts of Daddy and sing irritating nonsense songs.
It's raining and 37 degrees. It's going to be a long day.
Happy Saturday after Thanksgiving! Bah.
It's the holidays. At least one kid has to get sick, it's required. This to will pass, just not fast enough.
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