Oh the Burning and Itching, But Mostly the Bitching
No, I don’t have a venereal disease, but I’m having a knock down drag out this week with allergies and so far the allergies are winning. You could write your name in pollen on the hood of my car. And hey, I always wanted to live in a “hot spot” city,but not because it’s a poster child for pollen. I look like I’ve been up all night chain smoking. I had a volunteer gig at our local elementary school yesterday and wanted to look nice and professional, not red-eyed and looking like I’d had an all nighter. My head feels like a giant pollen filter but if I take an antihistimine I’m pretty much comatose and drooling. Is it happy hour yet? Because if I’m going to be comatose, I might as well have a margarita chaser and be on the couch with the Tivo remote. Claritin seems to work “OK,” but I think it’s one of those OTC drugs that must build up in your system and I’m an impatient thing. As with most things in life, I want IMMEDIATE GRATIFICATION or, at the very least, for my eyes to stop burning already. Maybe it’s time to start researching a full-house Hepa air filtration system or a move to Arizona as the hubby’s allergies are causing him to snore like Chewbacca.
On a positive note on the state of sinuses in our home and because I can’t go very long without circling back to my girlies, Amelia went back to daycare yesterday after being home since Friday with a bad cold. Did she cry for mama after being home so much? No. She went straight to her teacher, smiled and sat down with her friends at the breakfast table (there is nothing cuter than a bunch of one-year-olds sitting around a little wood table in little wood chairs) for a sippy cup of milk and morning snack and waved at me with the maturity of a 13-year-old whose thinking, “Uh, mom, it’s OK. You and sissy can leave now. Alright?” I kept waving and saying bye as Caitlin and I walked down the hall and expecting her to sniffle or something. Now I’ll just use that to segue into the fact that she’s loving the new one-year old classroom and has been devouring everything they offer on the school lunch menu. We get daily daycare “report cards” and Amelia’s always say she ate EVERYTHING…a girl after my own heart.
