The boy continues his sickness today. My husband is completely freaked out and yelled at me this morning when I told him I hadn't called the doctor. The boy has a cold. It's an icky cold, but it's still just a cold. So I'm taking him to the doctor tomorrow morning at 9.
I pretty much got to sit on the couch all day, watching Noggin, reading two new books I got at the library on Saturday (thank god!), and having my boobs fondled. I've got a bit of cabin fever, but I'm too tired from the last couple of rough nights to actually get myself out of the house. Besides, I'm still wearing my pajamas.
Could not sleep last night even before the boy got restless. I know I should be focusing on my breathing and relaxing myself, but instead I'm writing blog entries in my head and thinking about how to rearrange the bedroom furniture. When I do try to meditate I find myself focusing on my wonderful guided meditation monologue.
When did this happen to me? I used to be able to fall asleep on a moments notice. I used to be able to sleep 12 hours a night AND take a nap. Now I have to listen to the entire house snoring for an hour or two before I join them (I understand my dog, she of the giant schnoz, snoring, but who knew a cat could make that much noise in his sleep?). Of course the fantasies about smothering my sweetly sleeping husband don't help me fall asleep any faster either...
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