I suppose that complaining that I hadn't had enough time to get everything done might have been interpreted as a wish for more time - in any case, I seem to have gotten it, though not in a good way. Last night (or this morning) around 2 a.m., Ignatz hurtled into the bathroom and barfed in the sink. He threw up again at 3. And again at 6. By 7 we were both exhausted and underslept, so I staggered out of bed to get the Sniglet to kindergarten and then collapsed again. So, um, yay, I didn't have to go to work. Except now I have to go in on Monday. And I got exactly one thing crossed off my list.
All Ignatz did today was lie on the couch, but even so, it was an anxious day for me. He's never sick. Okay, slight exaggeration. How's this: this is the fourth time he's been sick in eight years. So I've never really gotten used to dealing with it. The Sniglet's a bit closer to normal, which was quite an adjustment for us in the first weeks after his birth. There were several phone calls to the hospital that went something like "He sneezed! Twice! Should we take him to the emergency room?"
Anyway. Let's see if I can get one more thing accomplished before my head falls off from yawning.
Song du jour of the day: Is Anybody There?, by John Hiatt. Apropos of nothing, just because I like it.