Did you ever feel like crawling under the kitchen table and rolling up into the fetal position?
Although it feels like I have been repeatedly chewed up and spat out by my children the last few days, I have miraculously survived. And what, you may ask, has been my saving grace? This morning Babs woke up with a Mystery Fever- no symptoms other than a mild temperature that magically causes her to be sweet and still and extremely agreeable. She crawled into bed with us this morning claiming she felt “very ill” and has spent most of the day on the couch nibbling crackers and singing to her ponies. Mystery Fever? I think I love you.
Everyone has been in a weird mood lately around here. Babs had a rough couple of days at preschool with one of her friends (more to come on that topic later). Her cranky-pie mood rubbed off on Zibbit and they have been at each others throats almost constantly, save for brief moments of attempted mutiny where they united forces against me. I’ve been pretty out of it myself. My head is all wrapped up in a writing project that is (gasp!) not intended for my blog, so between trying to simultaneously concentrate on that and keep the girls from murdering each other I’ve been a bit of a ditz. Just ask my empty, burning coffee pot. (Did you know those things only work if you put water in them? Huh.)
Oh, also, it turns out we haven’t renewed our car tabs since OCTOBER. My stint as Beth’s tour guide was briefly interrupted when I got pulled over by the Seattle police. That’s a phone call every husband looks forward to: “Uh, hi honey, I’m just sitting here waiting for the cop to decide whether or not I deserve a ticket…” I totally lucked out though, and got off with a warning. And I only had to show him one of my boobs!
Anyway, things are sort of falling apart at my house, and if it wasn’t for the Mystery Fever and one very nice policeman I would be in a much worse state. I do good with big things, but when tons of tiny stressful things hit me all at once I just kind of lose my mind. Bleh.








