When I was teaching I was always coming down with some sort of illness; a cold, the flu, a sympathetic itch when a student had poison ivy or head lice. No surprise. I mean, I was being sneezed on, coughed on, and some grubby hand was always wanting to be held. To top that off, Little Man was generously sharing all of his germs from daycare.
At the end of my second pregnancy I finished up the school year and became a stay at home mom. And wouldn't you know, our house instantly became a healthier place to live. I guess I should probably give a shout-out to my prenatal vitamin, too, for its contribution. A whole year with hardly a sniffle. Mommy Heaven.
Then Little Man started preschool. My handsome guy has been thoughtful enough to bring home an assortment of sickness almost consistently since September. I can only recall a handful of weeks where everyone in the house was feeling up to par. You would think my obsession with Clorox wipes would deter things a bit, but No. Even the mighty sanitizing wipe is no match for the germ factory we call school.
I'm not even sure where I'm going with this. Just tired of being sick. Tired of my babies waking up crying. Tired of wiping snotty noses. Tired of feeling like a zombie. Tired.
On the bright side, we recently got a Sam's card and are fully stocked up on Puffs. I guess I can find comfort in that until Summer Vacation gets here.
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