The Stuffy Nose of Death. Or, How I Learned to Love Snot.

So, Tuesday morning, Caetlin woke up with a cold. She had been cranky the night before, and as I mentioned previously, my brother-in-law's niece was sick. (We went over to their house without knowing there was a sick child. Must remember to ask sister Every Time we plan to go over there whether someone is sick, since this is the second time Caetlin has gotten sick from that household.) Not much fever, but drippy nose and poor snorty sounds when she tried to suck on her paci at night.

I lifted her out of her crib on Tuesday morning- she's her cheery self as usual, but I see the tell-tale crust on her top lip. Then, without warning, she sneezes. In my face. I give up my health for lost.

We've gotten really good at applying all the smelly stuff, plus saline- they sell a can with a long thin nozzle that points up, so it's a little like applying W-D-40 to your kid. We have the nightlight that emits smelly stuff, the baby Vicks, the smelly bathwash that is hard on her skin. I've read so much about how the cold medicine for babies is really easy to OD on and doesn't do much for them anyway, so I haven't gone that route. We have one end of her crib propped up on books- she persists in sleeping at the other end, but the night we took the books out as a bad job, she slept worse and kept waking up, so back they went, even though she seems to sleep in basically the worst possible position for sinus drainage.

She has remained pretty happy during the day, with some meltdowns in the evenings, as she is not getting the extra sleep I'm sure she needs. It breaks my heart when she's so inconsolable, even though I know she just needs sleep.

So, late Wednesday, I notice a scratchiness in my throat, a swampiness in my sinuses. Yes, I too have the Stuffy Nose of Death. And is it ever- either tonight or tomorrow will be the worst night, the one where I just can't breathe, even though I'll be propped up on a sofa cushion to keep me as close to upright as possible, because let's face it, upright isn't even really doing all that much for me right now.

We had a recruiting dinner last night with a really fabulous couple- she is the candidate, and I hope she gets an offer. Bruce and I will try to get in touch with them at some point and see if they can become couple friends. We need some of those, and these guys were painfully fantastic. But I had a tough time enjoying my food, since my tastebuds were somewhat off (not as off as they are now). The glass of wine and rich food plus post-nasal drip also made for a yucky tummy all night long. I also had to get up early and work, since I've been more or less behind the eight-ball with one project at work all week (I should have worked on it over the weekend, but hello! Cleaning!), and my procrastination had put me way behind on another project as well. So I stumbled out to the living room this morning, got a bunch of stuff done, came back to bed, determined I would work at home this morning so I didn't have to shower...and was promptly awakened by the yard guys. At 7-frickin'-30 a.m. They also woke Caetlin, who I thought might get some good sleep this morning, as the congestion seems to be breaking.

7:30 is too early for lawn guys running various impossible-to-sleep-through motors immediately outside one's window. It sucked, and the service isn't even ours, so we can't exactly tell them to come back later.

So I'm ending the day more or less where I started it- in bed, in front of the computer. Same roll of toilet paper I'm abusing my nose with. Same Blackberry by my side in case someone needs me (less likely tonight, I think, than this morning). Same congestion, same snot. Same awesome, in other words.

I have a bunch more stuff to write about this week, but I'm starting to do that thing where I type from behind closed eyelids, which is never good for anyone. Wish me luck that I can get some rest.