Eleven in the morning, reading to the kids and my voice fades. I can barely talk. And a headache builds pressure behind my eyes. Ouch. Tonight I was so tired I could hardly see straight. I couldn't juggle kids' dinner and my dinner. When I get sick, I sure see how much energy regular life requires. Snow is falling. Snow day tomorrow? We shall see.
For now, tired. Achy. Sick.
Oh, Anika wrote about her hero at school. My hero is my Dada. And she wrote him a letter. I wonder how you met my mama?
How many times can a Mama's heart melt? Still counting . . .