Segue? What Segue?

Yesterday at the Y, the lady who swipes the membership cards was helping all the kids make Mother's Day decorations with their names and their favorite things about their moms. When asked, Addy replied, with wide eyes and a tiny voice, that her favorite thing about me was "When we snuggle snuggle." There it was: my first genuine Mother's Day sentiment from one of my kids. Later that evening, in what I hope was not any sort of Mother's Day sentiment but simply a natural moment of urgency, Eli pooped in the bath. The yin and yang of parenthood.

We're having Jim's birthday party tomorrow and right on schedule, I appear to be coming down with swine flu. Or, you know, maybe just have a sore throat and fatigue due to stress, poor appetite and not getting great rest the last few days. But I don't like to let an opportunity for panic slip by, so I dutifully called the doctor to see if I ought to cancel the party and be tested for deadly strains of flu. He said no. The tone of the "no" was such that if I had asked in person, I imagine it would have been accompanied by a comforting pat on the head. Ah well.

While Nyquil is very useful when you have a cough that would otherwise keep you up all night, I must note that it sure is a b*tch to get woken from a drug induced sleep by a frantic three year old who crawls into bed with you, then thrashes from side to side for the next half hour while reassuring you in whispers that she IS holding still and getting sleepy, and no she WOULDN'T be happier in her own bed. I also hate that feeling when you're officially awake for the day but the medicine hasn't quite leeched itself from your bones yet, and for a few hours longer you still feel that undertow of sleep threatening to drag you under.

Fonzie got his summer haircut yesterday and for some reason they didn't trim his tail at all. He now looks like an enormous poodle with a jaunty bandanna tied around his neck. A sheepish and remorseful poodle, who ran away from me this morning and returned covered in filth as per usual. I hosed him down and dried him off outside, a process considerably less difficult without all that hair, but still not the way I generally prefer to start my day. He has been sulking in the closet ever since.

I need to find out who I can bribe/force into making Rice Krispie treats and cutting up a fruit salad for me for the party tomorrow, as I imagine our guests would prefer that I not come within five feet of the communal bowls. Although, I think we still have some masks left from when the guys were doing drywall... Maybe that would work. That and a healthy dose of Purell.

I cannot type to save my life today. Example: I just spelled "life" as "lief." Even my fingers are tired.