The good news is that Chickadee seems to have made a full recovery from her… whatever it was.
The bad news is that Monkey was looking a little punky (hey, that rhymes) yesterday and today… although, of course, you have to catch him either mid-puke or with a raging fever to get him to admit that yes, maybe he’s feeling a mite tired. So we shall see.
The worse news is that I am not feeling so fine, myself. It could just be fatigue, I suppose. Or something wholly unrelated. Or it could be my propensity to tuck a miserable child right into my bed (on my pillow) and give them lots of hugs and kisses, because I believe that’s what Mamas do. No good deed goes unpunished, as they say.
Then again, it’s November; I’m long overdue for my first case of kiddie-crud for this school year.
So I’ve been plodding around the house, this morning. Doing work. Drinking my tea. Doing laundry. And feel TREMENDOUSLY sorry for myself. Because it’s TRAGIC, you know, the not feeling good. WOE IS ME! Etc. I have to get it all out before the kids come home, y’know.
My desk happens to be really tidy right now, which is unusual, because I’m a terrible slob when it comes to my work space. My motto is something like “Hey, if I can still find my keyboard, I’m good!” (I cleaned it up last week for my unexpected foray into the nightly news, and not enough time has passed for me to clutter it up again. Yet.) So I was sitting here surveying the various treasures lining the top of my hutch—pictures of the kids, clay pieces they’ve brought home from art class, etc.
Which one of those was the right thing to talk about, today?
I felt uninspired. Maybe because I’m too busy feeling sorry for my stuffy nose; hard to tell.
And then my eyes wandered off to the side of my desk, to the letter-holder we barely use but which I felt it was very important to hang up when we moved in.
What you have to know about this particular sight is two things: First, that I have never seen anyone look as much like a tiny Groucho Marx, while trying to be a secret agent, as Monkey did this past Halloween; and second, that Otto is meticulous about everything having a proper place. In fact, I think the biggest adjustment for him, in the grand scheme of this whole insta-family situation, is the fact that the kids leave stuff absolutely everywhere. (To be clear: My cluttered desk probably also drives him insane, but I do keep the chaos contained, at least.)
Anyway, I looked up and saw this:
It’s too high up for the kids to have done it, and yet it feels very much like a little collaboration by the rest of my family to make sure that my day is just a little brighter.
Happy Love Thursday, everyone. Love shares the germs, true, but the good still vastly outweighs the bad. (Or at least can grab a disguise while fleeing the scene. Either way.)