I knew there was going to be good days and bad days on this ride they call motherhood. But today was the first day I'd classify as... difficult. Frankles is one sick little puppy. I took him to the pediatrician yesterday after he registered a 102.2 degree temperature. He's got a nasty cold and an ear infection to boot.
Needless to say we didn't sleep much last night. And none of my regular baby-distracting techniques are working. So I have yet to shower and my house is a mess.
AND I have to run ten miles tomorrow
AND I have to work for seven hours.
Did I tell you I got a job? It's a little part-time gig, a couple of hours a night after Zach gets home from work and Saturdays. It's easy enough and while part of me is really looking forward to missing the snot-fest that will surely ensue tomorrow, part of me will miss his crankiness and count down the hours till I get to come home and kiss his feverish brow.
He's got the cutest little brow.
And have I mentioned his chubby little feets? They are quite exquisite.
Even the most difficult day wasn't ALL bad. There were a few precious laughs. I live for that child's laughter.