The Klingon

Is that a face only a mother could love, or what?

While I do admit to being a super-Trekkie nerd, I can't say I would ever really want to have my VERY OWN Klingon. The last few days, it's felt that way though. Noah's been sick again with case #478 of an "unknown virus." By now, you'd think they could name some of this crap. I mean, if they discovered shooting rat poison into your face takes away wrinkles, you'd think a little sniffling would be identifiable by an M.D.

Anyways, due to the "virus," Noah been super-super grumpy which leads to Mommy being super-super grumpy. Noah's grumpiness takes the form of 4 chubby appendages with a death-grip on my legs. He wants up, he wants down, he wants to rub his snots on the back of my leg, but for the sake of everything holy, HE DOESN'T WANT TO BE MORE THAN 2 FEET AWAY FROM ME. This creates a problem around meal times and when mommy has to potty, so I have had to call on my trusty friend Elmo for more than I would like to admit this week. The peds recommend "No TV for kids under 2." I laugh at them and challenge them to come to my house when Noah's sick. Oh and by the way, could you FIGURE OUT WHAT MY KID HAS AND ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT INSTEAD OF GIVING STUPID AND UNREALISTIC ADVICE ABOUT TV? (Sorry, will now return to using my "inside" voice.....ehm).

Usually a glass of wine (i mean bottle) and a bubble bath would solve this, but my throat is itchy too, and I don't want to make it more horrible by ALSO being sick or (gasp) hungover. Wine and I are fremenies in that I love her in the evening, but more than one glass leads to her beating on my brain come 6am, not so much fun to wake up to a toddler who likes to bang on his drums to.

So here I am friends, laying out my troubles once again on you. Thanks for listening. If I were a blues singer I would be belting out the "Klingon Blues" like Ella, but that would wake the sleeping members of my family (even the dang cats are still asleep). If I were an artist I would express myself like Dali with some freaky leeches and a big clock melting away the time or something. This sounds like fun, but there is no way Noah would let me get away with anything that resembles mommy fun. So I am here, writing at 5:30, before the little man gets up. Cross your fingers for me that he wakes up sans snot with a happy grin on his face, for both of us.

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I would also like to apologize for being comment MIA lately. The great thing about having a iPhone is that you can read everyone's latest posts from anywhere. The crappy thing is that leaving comments is not very user friendly yet. I giggle your posts at the park, I treasure them from my bed in the wee hours of the morning, sometimes I even peruse them in traffic (don't arrest me). So I HAVE been visiting you, my friends. Just think of me as one of those crazy Idol fans, peering through your window. I am there, watching and learning about your lives, but I don't leave any death threats or anything. Nice of me, huh?