Moms Don't Get Sick Days

• I hate ... throat .. sore that ... up at night ... impossible to yell ... kids when ... far away or ... little shi- um, rascals.
  
  That's how I sound like today. And I'm supposed to take care of four kids. Not happening. Or rather, it is happening, but not well. My throat is on fire. I've also got a stuffy nose, muscle pains, and I'm really tired because I didn't sleep much last night.
  
  
• Chris does another oral exam today. ::crossing all fingers and toes::
  
  
• Susan is here for a conference. I would so love to be able to talk to her without causing myself severe pain.
  
  
• My sewing machine crapped out yesterday and the Singer people can't take a look at it till Tuesday. This is not good. ::shrug:: Ah, well. I suppose if Caroline Ingalls could keep herself and all her family clothed for about twenty years before she got a sewing machine, I can finish one measley costume.
  
  
• Except I keep thinking of an entry Sarah made a long, long time ago, entitled "Y'all are trying to be the wrong literary mother." Basically a list of all the ways in which it made more sense for mothers to emulate Anne Shirley rather than Caroline Ingalls. Ex: Anne had many close friends and kindred spirits and a live-in maid. Caroline Ingalls was lucky to see another adult once a year.
  
  Made sense to me.
  
  
• Speaking of Sarah, wow. The Denim Jumper has really taken off. Whee!!

That is all.

::plods back to kitchen for another dose of Neo Citran::

He's gay, Jim

Mr. Sulu Comes Out.

When life gives you lemons, make Neo Citran

Well, dow by dose is stubby, I hab doe voice, ad I feel lige grap.

bikerdoc, gub hobe. Dow, blease.

::cough cough::

Edit: Ah, fug. bikerdoc's godda stay lade. Dabbit.