My kid is really coughing today.
My gut tells me it’s just a bad cold, but it sounds like a small troll has lodged itself in his throat.
And this morning, the sniffles started.
He hasn’t had them in a long time. Not like this.
He’s older, slightly more verbal and a little calmer since I wrote this post, but the sniffles worry me.
They keep him awake and frustrated and that’s not good.
Today he woke up at 5:30. He woke me up at 5:30.
Had I gone to bed at a decent hour, that might not have me yawning this afternoon, as usual.
But husband lured me into late night t.v.
He’s like a seasoned cinematic drug dealer.
There’s never any overt gesture to make me a user, just subtle temptation.
A few well timed gasps, an occasional “Oh My God,” and suddenly I’m totally hooked on the freaky movie too.
This time it was Cloverfield.
You know, it’s that Blair Witch style flick about a giant monster that attacks Manhattan.
It stressed me out.
It was like War of the Worlds meets Godzilla and Alien and then stops to chat with all of that depressing, mesmerizing 9/11 footage.
I need to stop watching movies like that.
I already have a very dim view of our future on the planet.
Those little cinematic blasts of pessimism don’t really help me.
When we turn off the t.v., I just feel like my son’s room is too far from ours and I can’t wait until the morning when he’ll be up and talking to me again.
Surely, my parents’ generation had the same feeling that the world was going to hell. Yes?
I think I have reached a point in my life when I can say honestly that I don’t give a hoot about any of my material possessions.
If something catastrophic happened, I would get my family and get moving. I would take the cats with me, but my stuff? No. Big, FAT no.
I don’t sleep enough.
Husband doesn’t sleep enough.
The little boy probably won’t sleep enough tonight.
They’re really kinda pathetic when they’re little and sick at the same time.
Sort of a heart breaking combo.
Wow. Again, I must cut short a post because I am too sleepy to write it. 😦
Hope there aren’t any really horrid errors anywhere.
P.S. By the way, I ate the first of those big plum tomatoes growing in my yard. Oh. My. Deliciousness. Best. Tomato. Ever. EVER.