Being sick really rots. Especially in the summer. Especially in the summer on a weekend when I have a lot of fun plans.

Last night we were supposed to go to a potluck at Emily & Michael's. Due to some sort of miscommunication, it was a little up in the air whether it started at 6 or 7pm. I was told 6, and was hoping to drop by a little early (say 5:30) because Punk has been sick with the ear infection and she has an early bedtime anyway. I thought I would help set up, or at least occupy the babies (theirs and ours) while set up occurred. But when I called to find out if this was cool, I got Michael who thought the party was at 7 rather than Emily who thought the party started at 6. And Michael was pretty set on no early guests, especially at 5:30. It didn't really seem worth it to truck out to their place (30 minutes) to stay for 45 minutes or so and then truck home (another 30 minutes) with a sickish kid and a sickish me, so I cancelled. Which I feel badly about. But Punk eats dinner at around 5:30 and it was just too crazy-making. Aah well.

Tonight is Luka's birthday party and I was totally going to go but I woke up feeling like I got hit by a bus this morning. All of the nasal congestion from yesterday is happily burning up my throat and lungs and I sound like I smoked 80 packs of cigarettes in the past week. Seriously nasty. I feel like poo. Hopefully tomorrow is better. (Sorry, Luka!!)

Also, I am trying really hard to help Punk fall asleep on her own (or at least partially on her own, I have no problem assisting with this process) and it is so not working, so I supposed she's not ready. I actually had her all passed out in my arms giving me a hug which was the cutest thing ever, and got her up on my shoulder asleep, but she woke up during the drop (tried no swaddle) and then managed to move around and work herself all up into a lather which involved kicking and flailing and screaming and finally about an hour later she is asleep, swaddled. I can only do so much.