It's hard for me to admit I am tired. I'm kind of like a kid that way. Many a time, my sister has said to me, "Beth, you're tired. That's why you feel so bad." And a lightbulb lights up in my head, ohhhh...that must be why. A look in the mirror this morning confirmed that I have indeed turned into Helena Bonham Carter of the Fight Club/Sweeney Todd variety...hair at odd angles, dark circles under the eyes....
We have become the house of a million coughs. A has come down with an ear infection as well. This is wartime parenting. As anyone who has kids knows well...there are many facets to parenting. But the parenting of sick kids is a toughy. There are no rules, no guarantees, nothing is what it should be, there's no day or night.....it's like going to your local grocery store and they have moved everything around, now you have 5 seconds to find the Tylenol, go, go, go...wait, stop, that's not a metaphor that IS what happened to me the other day. My dang Giant rearranged everything just to spite me, I just know it. (I will be a loyal shopper to any store who keeps things IN THE SAME PLACE....take note, stores.)
Needless to say neither B nor myself have had more than 2 hours of sleep in succession for awhile now.
And since I am in such a crabby mood....and have watched a lot of late tv....Fabreze commercial with the lady who stays home while her family is out...DO NOT CLEAN YOUR HOUSE, ARE YOU CRAZY? Do not even squirt a little of that smelly cover up crap. Put your feet up, enjoy the silence, watch an Oprah.
Now here's a commercial for you.....man stays home while his family goes out and he cleans the house....NOW that's a product I WOULD BUY. Commercial people, take note.