Head Colds and Other Stuff in my Head

I've had a cold for two days and that is two days too many.

nighttimeSevereHotLiquid.jpgAfter a bad night last night and a long, painful day today, David insisted that I take some cold medicine before bed.  He gave me the "Nighttime stuff" as it's normally supposed to help you sleep and wake up feeling better.  Apparently I am not normal, but that will hardly come as a surprise to most of you, because it's a bit past eleven and I feel more awake than I have all day.  Lovely. 

(It might interest you to know that CIM thinks the "Daytime stuff" got accidentally mislabelled and packaged in the "Nighttime stuff" box.  But RIM would like to point out that CIM also thinks that the worldwide obsession with Purell is also going to lead to the next major pandemic.)

CIM:  Well, don't say I didn't warn you.

RIM:  (all supercilious eyebrows)

CIM:  I'm just saying.

I missed Young Women's tonight.  We were going horseback riding for our combined activity.  Just before it was time to leave, I went in to put on some make-up (I didn't want to spook the horses).  By the time I had finished that job I was exhausted.  I walked back into the family room and had to sit down and rest.  Admittedly it is quite a job to get me looking presentable, but even this seemed a bit extreme, so I called for reinforcements and stayed home.  Other than a couple of family vacations, I think it's maybe only the second or third time I've missed Young Women's in two-and-a-half years.  (The "inside-me's" are now battling it out, fighting over feeling guilty for not being there and feeling content that the rest of the population was not exposed to my head cold.  However, I'm not sure which voice is "reasonable" and which voice is "crazy" in this discussion so I will spare you the gory details.  It's not pretty.)

Did you hear I'm getting the mother-of-the-year award?  Last night Ethan came in our room to ask for help because "water wouldn't stop coming out of his nose."  I have no recollection of this.  Olivia found him crying, wandering the house and after helping him blow his nose, tucked him in bed with her.  And then this morning Caleb came in and yelled in a panic, "Mom, get up! I'm going to be late for the bus."  I asked him why he didn't wake me earlier.  He said he did.  I did not hear my four-year-old, my alarm, or Caleb the first two times.  But I swear I heard Dave every time he rolled over and started snoring.  I kept nudging him all night, wiping my nose and readjusting my pillow.  I could have sworn I didn't sleep at all.  There is, however, quite a bit of evidence to the contrary.

RIM:  (shaking her head in shame) 

CIM:  Don't look at me like that, I already know I've scarred them for life.

RIM:  (a pathetic little sigh)

CIM:  Does scarred have two "r's"?  Oh, yeah, otherwise it'd be scared.

RIM:  (disdainfully huffy) They're probably that too. 

CIM:  Does this mean I have to give that award back?