Infected.

I'm sick. Ugh. No matter how many sanitary precautions I take, all efforts become futile when my sickly toddler snots on my face and says, "Love you, Mommy." How could I possibly turn him away when he lifts up his arms, pokes out his bottom lip, and says, "I hold you, peas?"

As everyone knows, when Mom gets sick, it's every man for himself. Those dirty dishes from dinner? Yeah, you know where the sink is. Need a new shirt? There's probably one in the dryer, your dresser, or in the closet. Hungry? Hotdogs are in that drawer in the fridge. Not that one. The other one. With the cheese and the lunch meat. Good job.

I'm not neglectful (is that a word?) of my kids or anything.  I love those guys.  I get them drinks and I feed them meals and I change diapers. They're big enough to do some things on their own, though. Snacks are on the bottom shelf of the pantry for a reason.

Of course, eventually throughout the day I get little spurts of feeling better (or at least where my head doesn't feel like it'll explode as easily). During these moments I throw a load of towels in the wash or empty the dishwasher. So my house isn't a total wreck yet. But who knows what tomorrow will hold?

I'm hoping this "cold" is indeed just a cold and not some mutant virus with plans to take over my family. So far, so good, but I've seen it happen before. One of us gets the sniffles and by the time the last person gets sick, it's pneumonia. Well, ok, maybe not pneumonia, but close. I'm only the second one sick. Hubby has a feeling he'll get the pneumonia. And certainly on Christmas. Why? Because that's the way it happens in our household.

OK, so I'm rambling on now.. Gonna get off here and spend some time with the hubbs before I lapse into my benadryl coma. Goodnight, folks!

Forgetfulness

     Do you ever wake up and think to yourself, "OK, today I need to do X, Y, and Z..." only to find when the day is over that you completely forgot about one or all of those things?  Welcome to my life. It doesn't happen to me every day, but I do forget things often. So often do I forget, that I learned a few years ago to start writing things down.  I have gone through countless notebooks, notepads and sticky notes reminding myself to do the simplest things: "Do laundry. Take out the trash. Call Mom. Blog." 

     Not only do I forget things I need to accomplish, but I often forget words I am wanting to say - mid sentence. Especially if I'm tired or upset. I'll find myself asking my daughter to pick up her - and I forget the name for the toy. She reminds me, "Barbie, Mom." Yes. That's it. Thank you. It's quite embarrassing to have your five year old complete your sentence for you in the grocery store when you say, "Can you hand me one of those cans of..." and she says, "corn?" as you point to the object and draw a blank. But, alas! This is me. It's very frustrating.

     I wish I knew why I forget things so much and why, in contrast, my thoughts always seem to come so easily when I'm typing or writing them down. It makes me worry, of course, that by the time I'm a grandmother I will have early stages of Alzheimer's or another form of dementia. There's a history of dementia in my family. Is it inherited? Not sure. Some believe it's hereditary, while others rely on the all-too-familiar "it hasn't yet been proven." I have seen how people treat Alzheimer patients, and I don't want to be treated that way - like an outcast, or less than a person. It's definitely a frightening thought, and perhaps I'm reaching a bit. But I do fear these things.  It sucks to forget.  I want to remember and be remembered.