Sunday night William came down with the worst cold to date, and it has yet to subside. Our week has been spent plunging noses, swallowing cold meds, and bringing down on-again-off-again fevers. I literally have a rosy cheeked, runny nosed toddler attached to my hip during the day and on my shoulder at night, and with an average of 4hrs/night, we’re exhausted, drained, donzo.
We’re hunkering down and gliding through the swell, hoping to make it out before the wave truly crashes. And it’s a big one. Tsunami style.
This week, we’ve been living by the motto, “an apple a day, keeps the doctor away” --along with chicken noodle soup, orange juice, and tissue… lots and lots of tissue.
I said, “Wills, how sick are you?”
He stretched out his arms and said, “dis!”
On a side note: check out who has a little curl action going on! You can bet your booty I’m growing his hair out. We're going for a hippie-surfer-ish, wild and free hairdo that matches his personality.
And we’re out.
Be well, be free.