Well, it's happened. And, admittedly, remarkably late in the game. Frantic Mama has what you might call a "severe cold." And it's not pretty. And I know just who I caught it from (Hint: He only eats yogurt, he is obsessed with Match Box Cars, and he's under age 2). Yep. My dear little guy brought it into our home [again]. (See Recent Posts: The Neverending Cold).
This is one of those lovely head colds that makes you so stuffy that even your eyes hurt. I'm considering buying one of those frightening Neti Pots that the likes of Dr. Oz rave so much about. Yes, it's that bad.
This leads to the conundrum that only parents must face: how does one take care of oneself when every waking minute someone else demands all of one's energy? I'm not sure it's possible. I do know Baby Einstein videos help. I also know that an extra cup of coffee can help you find just a little bit more oomph in your reserves.
In the meantime, this Frantic Mama is signing off for the day...how long before I put my feet up do you think it'll be until you-know-who wakes up, calling for Mama?