Pardon the incoherence

My child has a cold. 

Colds used to be a painful process that I had to endure as an adult, something that let me take days off work and sit on the couch, something that slowed me down a tad and made me appreciate breathing unimpeded.

Colds with a child are the bane of my existence, liking walking through hell. My own doctor, mother of her own two year old, confessed earlier this year that she feels worse when her child has a cold than when she herself does.

I concur.

We've actually been relatively lucky on the cold front this year. Last winter -- the first winter of daycare -- we seemed to have a cold pretty much constantly. No sooner than one cold would start to ebb that another one would come on full force. I blame the colds entirely for the fact that my child didn't sleep through the night for far, far, far too long.

This winter we've had breaks. And this particular cold isn't a bad one as far as they go -- nowhere near as bad as the ones we had last year, especially the one that almost became pneumonia but for a quick mommy catching the fever early enough to prevent all-out hospitabilizing illness. He's active and engaged during the day, energetic, and eating and drinking well. 

Frankly he's barely even stuffed up, really, and you'd hardly notice the cold except for the runny nose and the coughing. 

Oh, God, the coughing. So much coughing. So much coughing at night, lots and lots of coughing so much so that we were up for two hours last night. Not really because of the coughing, but because mom and dad felt that his breathing was too laboured and wondered if perhaps we should head to hospital.

It was not a restful night.

I was up again at six am and have been up since, but the good part is that I've spent a lot of time lying in bed TRYING to sleep and in that time I managed to come up with the proper material and flow of material for the speech I need to write tomorrow. 

And I also treated myself to chocolate coconut cookie bars to accompany my breakfast. If there's ever a morning you need fat and chocolate, morning-after-cold is it.

Of course this morning he has more energy than I can possibly imagine, and is running pell-mell about the place and is into everything. And me? I am trying my best to remain cheerful and energetic and I think I will likely crash about 2. Must go shopping soon, or all hope will be lost.

Somewhere here, there was a point. I'm sure of it.