With a huge box of tissues because I have managed to catch another fantastic cold. I thought it might just be allergies, my body’s usual way of alerting me to the changing of the seasons, but not so much. The amount of money that the Puffs company has made from my family’s tissue consumption since last fall is pretty amazing. Is it a bad sign that every trip to Wal-Mart includes a trip to the tissue aisle?

Send love and more tissues please.

ETA: any more than usual typos/misspellings/general bad grammar can totally be chalked up to a Nyquil induced hangover.

And for all you out in SE Idaho, that would be pronounced theee-yay-ter.  Just wanted to clear that up before I start.

You know how I’ve been really annoying with my last two posts being all, “…blah blah blah, sick sick sick, sinus infection, Dr. visit, antibiotics, blah blah blah…”?  Well, hold onto your hats because I am sick again.  Not sick as in, oh woe and misery, I’m still sick, but more of the wow, those 10 days of antibiotics really did work and I feel great for about three days before I realize that I have caught something else and am once again buying Kleenex in bulk and trying to cough up a lung at various intervals throughout the day variety.  On the plus side (because really, when you’re producing so much mucus that you start to worry a little that your next stop on the evolutionary chain is ’slug’, all you have are the few bright spots), the current variety of virus that has come to visit seems less virulent over all, Owen does not appear to have it as well and being sick for nearly a month now has really been helping out with that New Year’s Resolution to lose some weight and get more in shape.  Although, with regard to the last, I’m a little concerned that once I am finally germ-free, I’ll pass out within seconds of setting foot on the treadmill due to working overtime on making an imprint of my butt on the couch cushions. 

Other bright news from the weekend:

* On Saturday (the last day before we started to live in temperatures resembling the Arctic Tundra, not SW Virginia), Owen and I went outside to play and upon re-entry in the house discovered that we had both managed to step in mystery dog poop somewhere in the backyard.  I say mystery poop because we never saw it until I smelled it after walking all over the house.  Yet another time that I am so so thankful for having hardwood and not carpet.

* My beautiful happy Owen has disappeared and in his place is someone…well, let’s just say that if the current Owen living with us doesn’t return the original version and post-haste, I’ll be forced to list him on Craig’s List.  So far bedtime is taking 2+ hours on a good night (and even then, he only stays asleep for 1 hour max intervals), any response of ‘No’ or something similar (no matter how nicely said) brings on a 10+ minute tantrum, complete with stampy foot and tears, and diaper changes have become something unbearable for both of us (bucking thrashing toddler + diaper filled with something the consistancy of pudding= disaster for all).  If only I could figure out a way to bottle his discontent and re-sell as either audio birth control or a weapon of mass destruction and I’d have it made.  This has also made me extremely glad, for the moment, that my plan to take over the world through re-population isn’t going quite according to plan (translation: I’m still not pregnant, but we’re still diligently working on that).

I haven’t forgotten about my contest, but I’m putting it on hold until I feel better because I seriously feel that all my creativity is coming out as well each time I blow my nose.

 Hopefully your weekend was better–anybody do anything more fun than stepping in dog poop?

I think the thing that I hate the most about being sick (other than the whole fun package that being really sick is in and of itself) is that feeling of time stopping and everything being put on hold.  Ugh.  I realize by looking at the calendar that it is indeed almost the end of the second week in January, but mentally I’m still stuck way back at December 26th because that’s when the creeping crud came to stay with us for a few.

I finally broke down and went to the Dr. on Monday (not that I’m adverse to going to the Dr.–I just try to hold out until I can be sure that I am really really sick so I don’t waste their time and my time and money.  I know–novel concept) and found out that Larry Lungbutter (i.e. the nasty hack in my lungs and sinuses) probably wasn’t going to be leaving any time soon without a little medical shove.  So I am on the large blue horse pills for the next 10 days and am really really hoping that one round kills this junk.  Since today is the third full day of antibiotics and my sinuses are still feeling like they could split open at any moment, I’m a little less hopeful.  However, on a positive note, my sinuses (and to some degree my lungs) are spewing forth less quantity of yuck and I am not quite as worried that after one of my marathon nose-blowing sessions I might look down and suddenly see bits of my grey matter in the tissue as well.  Unpleasant image I know, but so is hearing me cough and hack and sputter, so just be glad there isn’t an audio file of that.

 So I’m just going to keep laying low and see if I can’t a better seat on the old On The Mend Express.