08 November 2015

I can actually feel my hair turning whit(er).

Still need your prayers. Still stressing to the high heavens. In addition to my last post worth of issues:

  • Michael left this evening (he's actually boarding his plane right now) for a business trip. It's as short as he could make it, given that he's hitting two states, but I'm still feeling preemptively overwhelmed.
  • And, of course, Keira, who is NEVER sick, got sick like clockwork the day Daddy was leaving. She was fine when she woke up this morning, started coughing at Mass (chasing away a poor woman who had innocently sat behind us, who was clearly battling cancer, and then saw my little savage covering her mouth only about 50% of the time when she coughed), started to get warm before lunch, listlessly picked at lunch, asked for a nap after lunch (which is basically unprecedented), and woke up full-on fevered, raspy-voiced, coughing uncontrollably and wheezing. She spent the afternoon in Mommy and Daddy's bed, watching Goldie and Bear. I usually let fevers run their course, but I thought she had a sore throat too so I dosed her with Advil and she got a bath. By dinnertime, she had her appetite back and has been playing and singing and not-coughing since. Hopefully, this was a false alarm?
  • Still no place to live. We saw something we loved on Friday (tippy-top of our budget, but a whole lot of nice house for the money), but the realtor called us back and told us the owner wanted someone who could move in sooner -- again, our preferred move-in date is Dec. 15, and it's already Nov. 8 -- so we're still on the hunt. There has to be a reasonable landlord somewhere in the vicinity. There has to be. But we have yet to find him/her. {Does a credit score in the 800s count for nothing?}
  • Here's how I know I'm too stressed to function: I just put the baby to bed without changing his diaper. So that's going to be delightful in the morning.
Please, pray for us.

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