The power of suggestion

I really ought to learn to keep my mouth shut. I have told any number of people--here, at a RWA critique group, at home...--that I was looking forward to having about 2 hours on Thursday of writing time (daytime hours! Before 5pm! When my brain is still working!), and was going to take Friday off (I had a long list of other household issues to take care of, but writing was on the schedule).

I apparently said something in front of my youngest, the 18 month old. Who, by 10am Thursday, was running a fever of over 102. And threw up all over me once I got him (and his sister, who was fine but jealous) home from daycare. Joy.

I found about 5 minutes between soothing the baby, acting as a human crib (I'm apparently much more comfortable than his bed), and acting as a large kleenex (did I mention the snot?). Joy.

Friday wasn't so bad. His fever actually broke around 5am, so he was in fairly good spirits all day, though he didn't nap for very long. I got a couple of good walks in--he likes riding in the jogging stroller. The third walk became a stroll around the living room (in the stroller, buckled at his insistence), because I was too tired for another half mile jaunt around our hilly neighborhood (and we're up high...so there's no ending on a downhill glide).

So, no progress. No editing. There might have been 20 new words on Accomplice, but I'm not going to post that yet. I'm still feeling a little annoyed about the whole thing, but there's nothing to do. And everyone was healthy all weekend, and most of the household chores got done on Saturday. And I bought new shoes today (2 pairs!). Retail therapy is good.