Alas for the SAHM, sick days are not breaks.  We all still need, for example, to eat.  And someone (me) gets to do all those dishes. I’m not all that keen on dishes when I’m not sick, so by yesterday, that was an impressive pile in the sink.  (If we hadn’t run out of plates, it probably would still be piling up.)

All three of us have some sort of crud – coughing, sneezing, tired – and are as cheerful as to be expected.  (Fortunately for me, P seems to be spending most of her sick time sleeping it off, which does make for some quality mom time.  The plus side of this virus is that I seem to have my novel completely plotted.) At least today my husband went to work – he’d been home for five days, and I really almost kicked him out yesterday, except for the fact he outweighs me by 100 pounds and I wasn’t feeling up to it, either. I like loft living, really, I do – it’s just that it’s contingent on him going to work five days a week, and I was already looking Memorial Day like a major imposition.

P’s still asleep, which is crazy.  (This is good crazy – I’ll take it.  Even dragging myself around the way I have been this morning, I managed to get a bunch done.  Except that “a bunch” really just means picking up dirty clothes and toys.)

The weather’s crap, so at least I’m not having to look outside and see beautiful blue skies at the same time, just the same old drip-drip-drip of rain hitting the windows.  We’re due to see the sun sometime this weekend – maybe by then we’ll be up to it.