Bleah

Yes. Bleah. The Cold of Doom has attacked the GamersMom. Phht... it's just a cold, but historically a cold for me - once the ears start to hurt - is worse than a cold, and usually requires antibiotics. So off the the doc I go tomorrow.

The funny bit is the kids' reactions. Abby wants to comfort me. And the last thing I want is to be touched at all, much less fawned over. But the intent is sweet. She likes to cuddle up and stroke my arm and kiss my cheek and lean against me. It's like living with a friendly cat who has opposable thumbs. Lizzy wants to solve the problem. "You want a banana, mama? Maybe some meh-cine? Can I tuck you up in this blankie?"

Regrettably, their urge to comfort and/or help does not extend to such mundane activities as, say, cleaning their room without being told. Or going to bed without whining. Or anything that would be truly helpful, not to mention useful. But that... that's what makes them kids.