a wee bit snotty

what a face. I think he was trying to squeeze past me while saying "owwww"

Lately, things in our home are a bit snotty. Like, drooling lips, stinky breath, booger infested noses and lots of face wiping going on. We've got a cold going around and it ain't good. It's a rough one and somehow I caught it. Now, I don't want to boast or brag, but I rarely get sick. It's genetics really. I remember maybe one time in my life that my dad was sick and it was for a day and than he was back to the racetracks. My mom? Hardly ever. She only gets sick around Holidays and that's because she's workin' her booty off. They are the essence of good health. I pray that continues for the rest of their lives. I inherited their health. Well, if you discount my chronic ear infections as a kid and dozen strep throats as a teenager, but really, who is keeping track anyway? 

watching his daddy mow the lawn.

 

i love my allergy-man. he handled it like a champ. and didn't come inside sneezing with watery eyes. and I had myself a little giggle.

Jack's sick spot on the couch, complete with a motor trend. His favorite reading material as of late.

So, I got Jack's cold. Maybe it's because I kiss his face about every five minutes or wipe his nose with my fingers and forget to wash my hands (eww, I know, but what can a mama do?) or that I share a bite of pretty much everything with him. He's mah boy. What can I say?

But it's been a rough one. Besides sounding like a man every morning and hawking up lungs, I am trying to slow myself down because the hardest part for me when I get sick is slowing down. I want to keep up with the pace of life. It's no brisk run, but it's a grand pace. 

So, here I sit on an overcast day, Jack taking a morning nap (something he hasn't done since his last cold in January) and I with a cup of water still in my pj's. Trying to relax and trying  not to want to be at the Dollar store with my pals and their boys right now.

having a snack with one of his good friends. yes, they were going in for a kiss at that exact moment. and that nap-hair. wow.

This past week has been beautiful. The weather warmed up (briefly, another cold front comes in tomorrow. Which I welcome.) We've spent our days at the square, play dates with little friends (and their mama's) and a whole lot of lovin' on our sick boy. 

Jack had his first big-boy puke on Sunday evening. His daddy caught in Jack's shirt, great reflexes, perfect timing and incredible disgusting. I thought I would be the kind of mom who swoops in when my darling son pukes and panics, but I didn't. Maybe it was because John was there and when he is I typically panic more, but John was/is always my hero and carried him into the bathroom while singing soothing words to his kiddo. I cleaned up. With a spray bottle of vinegar and water. Jack was so precious as he clung to his daddy's neck afterward, pale and greenish and looking shocked at what had just happened. My heart melted and we got him into his jammies and he fell fast asleep. My sweet goose.

It was just that once and I'd be lying if I didn't say I was a little nervous he'd do it again during the night and didn't want to be the one to catch it that time. Does that make me a bad mama?