I’m a hostage in my own home

I am in day 3 of being under siege. Caroline has been sick and like all good germ carrying monkeys, she has spread her sore throat and congestion to her mama. There is really nothing less fun than being a mama with a cold.

Remember in the pre-child days when being sick meant getting on the couch with a warm blanket and watching movies all day? Now being sick just means that I have to chase a whining, runny nosed toddler all over the house while my energy level is below half capacity and amazingly in spite of the sickness, she is still running at full steam. She can outwit me, outlast me, and outwhine me.

In fact, she is so desperate to get us out of the house that she is in her room getting herself dressed. She actually just yelled to me that she needs to put her makeup on and I’m so worn down that all I did was walk in her playroom and open a compact of blue eyeshadow for her. I didn’t even say anything about the fact that she has on two pairs of underwear, a sundress, red sparkly shoes with mismatched socks and has completely soaked her hair down with the no-tangles spray.

By the end of the day, we’ll probably be eating pixie sticks, drinking coke straight from the bottle and using my good linens as a tent. She has worn me down.

And did I mention it is pouring down rain so we couldn’t go anywhere even if I was desperate enough to attempt it? I guess I’ll just go ahead and get out my good wedding china for her to play with since it’s only a matter of time at this point anyway.