I think Viola's face sums up the situation.
A flu sent from the pits of Dante's hell has been making the rounds through our house. The bloody thing is pulling every trick out of the puking book of life. There are fevers. There is a four year old dry heaving into bowls. There is the ever present psychosomatic stomachache, because my goodness MAYBE IT HAS FINALLY GOTTEN ITS STINKY HOOKS INTO MY GUT. (It hasn't. Yet. Although I do think I might feel a little queasy...)
And there is no sleep.
Blessed Riley spent most of last night awake with Zuzu while I stayed curled under the sheets and tried to recover from the previous night of sleeplessness. Even my subconscious was exhausted and the ridiculous dreams I had all night attest to its tiredness. The best of the bunch? A reverie in which I created the most innovative mama invention since the baby pram. What was this delight? This discovery that sent my dreamland rolling with pretensions of genius?
A party that could be thrown before the birth of each baby! And we will call it The Buy Things For Baby Party! And there will be some sort of list where the momma to be writes down the things she needs! And when something is purchased off that list it will be removed! SO THERE IS NO GIFT PURCHASED TWICE! And the first recipient of this new idea? Merilee Liddiard of Mer Mag. Because....ummmm....she isn't currently pregnant in real life and has no need of it? (In case you were wondering, Dream Merilee was really bowled over by the comprehensive vision of my baby party extravaganza.)
I woke up from my dream-my vision!-ecstatic. And for about 20 seconds (19 seconds too long), I reveled in the happiness of a new idea. I would like to blame this lapse of judgement on the fact that it was still only 2:30 in the morning and I was in a weakened state. Ahem. Of course, around second 21 I realized that my grand idea was not only just a baby shower and gift registry, it was a baby shower and gift registry with A WORSE NAME. The Buy Things For Baby Party. I imagine the invitations would have been shortened to The BTFB Party, just to keep things, you know, hip.
At least there will be more throwing up today.
(But, seriously. It could be worse.)