Nose Picking Germ Bags

When I first heard my father-in-law refer to children- sweet, innocent, perfect children, as nose picking germ bags I have to admit I though he was being a little harsh. Then I had kids and I am now fully converted. Germ bags they are!

I have never-ever been so unreliable, so undependable before. I missed more work when Calixa started day care than I had before in my entire life. Now that there are two little goober monsters at home that’s where I stay too- day care for two is out of the budget- but boy-oh-boy, when they pass those lovely pathogens my way it is hard to get through to day.

Yesterday was the first of May and I completely missed it. Instead of seizing the day and rejoicing in life, I got cozy with shivers, sweats, aches and pains. No cold medicine for me, thank you, I am still breast feeding. And so I suffered through in a numb sort of way thankful that babies need to nap and that three-year-olds can be temporarily amused by our sometime babysitter T.V.

I collapsed into bed at seven and didn’t emerge again until 12 hours later (barring the mandatory night-time feeding and nightmare rescue) and this morning we were all well enough to smell the roses- tulips actually. Spring really is here and the first delicate blossoms of spring are unfolding. What a nice way to get better. It’s nice to be well enough to notice.

 

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