So I'm sick again, like most of the Northeast right now. When I'm not alternately hiding from my toddlers under the covers and checking to make sure they haven't made significant mischief, I go to patronize the local doctor's office. Both babies in tow.
"Oops she dropped her cracker. Your strollers about to run over it. Oh wait, it did. There's a tissue box over here." Ah, beloved helpful elderly patients in the waiting room. I'm always a huge fan of cleaning up after oneself, but when one is a. nauseated and b. with a one and three year ok in tow, bending to pick up immediately after each and every article they shed from their stroller is quite inadvisable. Like really. But when you have sweet, well meaning older folks trying to coach you into perfect parenthood in the doctor's office, you try to oblige. "Oops, she lost a mitten over there. And excuse me, she's eating her sock." At least no one attempted my favorite senior phrase, the final proof of parental amnesia: "Make sure you enjoy these times. Best years of your life."
At the moment I can categorically state these are not the best years of my life I'm waiting for Zofran to work or unconsciousness at the moment, whichever can get here quicker. So take vitamin c and d dear friends. Enjoy the sun if you've got some. Sleep if you can. Oremus pro invicem! -TLC