Snurffle, snurffle...

Ah, the spring cold.... an annual event 'round here where we don't do a lot of sickness (warnings about the onslaught pre-school would bring haven't panned out, yet). But the good news is that it's a spring cold and the tide is turning on all this snow.

It starts with a visit to the home of friends we affectionately call the Petri Dishes. Their home is warm and welcoming - and apparently, chock full of pathogens because a runny nose always follows a visit.

Then, Isabelle gets cranky and Thomas' eyes look just a touch red-rimmed. Then, just a trickle of clear mucous signals that the immune battle has begun. I've never really been big on giving little people medicine and the recent warnings about this have just underlined my institinctive feeling.

In fairness, pre-pregnancy and nursing, I was known to down copious quantities of the stuff. But I had to get to work and Isabelle doesn't need cold relief to watch Toopie & Binoo. Popsicles and honey have been doing just fine.

But the snot (like the plot) thickens and Thomas gifts me with an enormous wad of it when he sneezes out the blueberries I was handing him. As I wipe it off my cheek with my sleeve, it occurs to me that I have come a long way since our first cold... Maybe too long....

Day three and Isabelle gets ornery... I am not doing my best mothering. Treehouse TV is on a constant loop, the menu consist of apple slices, peanut butter and toast and the dog is looking at me with that "Dude, do you even remember that I need to be fed?". I want to just lie down, but there's no point.

It's time to call in the big guns... my mama. Mum shows up, changes the children into actual clothing (pjs have ruled) and waters, feeds and plays with them (and the dog, who loves her unconditionally and far more than he loves us: she feeds him). All while I sleep...

It will be better tomorrow... better be: we've got Easter eggs to make, a birthday to plan and school's back next week. Hmmm.... Mum always did great Easter eggs...