The descent begins.

As my husband begins a few days of choice deer hunting, I can feel the polliwog's cold has taken root and is affecting my own immune system. The little guy was out of commission last weekend and the first part of this week, and so it's really not surprising that I'm next in line. He has a tendency to sneeze everywhere at the worst possible times, such as directly into my mouth when I pick him up...

It's amazing to me sometimes how much motherhood has risen the bar for what it takes to actually gross me out. Human feces? No problem, dealt with that three times before 10 a.m. Vomit? Been there, done that. Blood? A little more disturbing, yes, but not gross. Another person's snot? I just can't even dedicate energy to getting disgusted by that, really. None of these are a stranger's bodily fluids, which appears to make a huge difference, oddly enough.

Still, when it's my own nasal passages at stake and I can feel the general grumpitude set in, preventative measures are needed. So, we'll head to the store this morning for the usual cold rations of orange juice and some form of decongestant, and hope these aid me in maintaining some form of functionality for the next couple days until the height of mucus production has passed. At least I should be better by next week for the actual holiday, which is nice.