calling in

The kids and I all have fairly miserable but completely innocuous colds. Simon called it, "snot on tap" as he wiped poor Phoebe's nose for the 55th time over the course of an hour last night. As soon as we get struck by the head cold bug I just start saying prayers of thanks that it isn't the stomach flu because toddlers + projectile throw up is just the worst. I'll take faucet noses over the vom plague any day, in case the illness gods are reading. Thanks.

Anyway, so I'm figuratively blogging in sick so that I can let Julia nap in my lap while she tells me in 76 different and creative ways how much she hates being sick:

My nose is so annoying!

I just can't handle this any wonger!

My wife is so frustrating, Grace!

Maybe a milkshake will help?

Can you find some better medicine?

Where's my tissue?

Where's my tissue?

Where's my tissue?

etc - fun - etera

... and yet she still managed to pull together a half-bottomed Halloween costume for our emergency diaper run this morn.

the melodramatic doesn't fall far from the tree.

(and many thanks to sweet Megan for sending the headband our way!!)

Phoebe seems to have been hit the hardest but is proving to be the toughest cookie ... I took a tiny video of her stoic disposition and in case clips of other people's kids are your thing .... here it is.

I promise I won't mention Miss America again but did you see that my cousin Sierra won America's Choice last night? She wont by three votes and I have every confidence in the world that the Camp put her over the edge. Furious and exaggerated wink.

I tried to make dinner every night last week (oh, you think your standards are bad? come on over to disgraceville) and for ONCE ... I succeeded with the help of a couple of meals that stretched for two nights. Tonight's excitement comes in the form of shrimp and avocado quesadillas and maybe I'll even start paying attention to my What's For Dinner Pinterest board. My life is young. You never know.

I made a little witching hour playlist that will most definitely get your young folk up and dancing for anyone in a boat by the name of Desperado at the magical time of day like I am. Phoebe is just as much of a sucker as her mother for beats that are probably popular with the 14-year-old female crowd. You were warned.

I hope to get a video of Theo shaking his tail feather in the very near future. You were warned about that as well because I'm sure I think it's about 999 times more hilarious that anyone ever will.

And now Julia is trying to make Phoebe cuddle with a notsmall wooden statue of an owl so I better go referee that one-sided squabble.

Less blah blah blah in the very near future.
SAHM's honor.

Stay well, dearhearts.