So remember the cough Max had? Well, it wasn't whooping cough. You knew that, right? Max was trundled off to camp, and all was well.

Except of course, Sophia has the same not-whooping-cough, and please kill me now. Because the cough is now causing her to gag. And throw up. She's not that adept at throwing up, and she doesn't like it (go figure), so she tends to clap her hand to her mouth, causing a spew-out-the edges reaction. And then she offers me a handful of vomit. No. No,thank you. I'll have none.

Or she coughs in her sleep. And gags. And throws up. But doesn't wake up. So I hear her from the other room, and come flying to her bedside to find her snoozing in a puddle of puke. And she does not appreciate clean up.

All I really do these days is laundry. Except when it's time to sleep, and then all I do is spring out of bed at the slightest rustle of a cough, shoving towels, bowls, and fervent prayers at my sleeping girlchild. It got so bad that I took her into the doctor's office, and let them put her on antibiotics. She's been on the drugs for three full days now, and she responded tonight by…spiking a 102 degree fever and falling asleep on the couch in the middle of the afternoon. What GOOD is it, resorting to the Devil Antibiotic, if it's not even going to HELP? 

So that's my story these days! I'm sorry to subject you to it. What's up with you? How many times can you wash a down pillow (The Comfy Pillow) before it disintegrates? Let's share.