I got my hair cut yesterday. It's shorter than I wanted. A good bit shorter, actually. Some women would be upset, but I keep thinking, Sweet! I won't have to get it cut again for like, six months. It's going to grow into something I'm really going to like.
That probably makes me pretty weird, right?
When I got Emmy out of her bed this morning, I discovered she had thrown up in the night. She slept through it, then IN it.
Bring on the Lysol, and bleach, and laundry detergent, and hand sanitizer.
Juice and crackers have been successful so far, and no fever. Whatever that means.
So far we have never had a stomach bug among our kids that didn't run through the house. But typically I live in denial for a while. I say things like, it must have been what he ate. Today I am acknowledging that my kids have never once thrown up because of something they ate. So I'm quarantining her as best as I can, toddling behind her with Lysol, and praying for health for the rest of us.
That's what I'm doing this sunny muddy Tuesday morning. How is your day shaping up?