It’s official; my grandboys are sick and now I am, too.
Normally, sharing is a good thing and it’s certainly something we want to instill in our little ones. But sharing colds? Yikes, not a good idea. And while our kidlets seem to get over things fairly quickly, we more seasoned folk tend to take much longer to conquer whatever is attacking our bodies.
But you think something like a cold will keep me away from hanging with the boys or kissing their precious faces over and over again? No way. It’s worth the risk. I love every moment.
I know I have been very lax about blogging lately. Let’s just say work has been very hectic and my body isn’t quite up to some of the more recent challenges. But my “kids” keep on being so cute and since this blog was started so I wouldn’t forget this cuteness, I’ve decided I really need to get back on track.
Before I go on let me post a warning: even when you think you’ve put your hot curling iron in a safe out-of-the-way location so no one gets hurt, think again. Konnor’s arm ended up coming in contact with the still hot curling iron yesterday and this poor grandma’s heart broke listening to his cries. I felt horrible and kept apologizing over and over again.
Another warning: when the kids are “off their feed” and just acting a bit different, it might be a good idea to take their temp. Now for some reason yesterday morning Konnor took his own temp with the very cool ear temp thing and even that didn’t serve to remind me to check Callan’s. He’s generally our good eater so when he ate nothing and wasn’t even interested in his milk, that should have been a red flag. Instead, I offered lots of cuddles and told his mommy when she came home. And being the good mommy she is, she immediately asked if he had a fever. Duh, I don’t know. Never even thought about it. And, as it turns out, he did.
Aren’t I just full of good information?
There was lots of cuteness going on yesterday but today I can’t remember any of it to share with you as my nearly 60-year-old body and brain can’t remember any of it. I’m blaming it on the clogged up head. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Be blessed this week.