I would say that this is the kind of day that makes me feel like I shouldn't have gotten up in the morning, except that with three kids I don't have any choice whether or not to get up in the morning, so that particular point is moot. (And isn't that a splendid, deep, resonant word? Moot, moot, moot. No wonder Tolkien chose it to describe a gathering of Ents.)
Anyway, I'm on the third day of what has to be my tenth cold this year, my head feels like it's been loosely packed with wool, and I ache from the hips down. I haven't been able to get to sleep before 1 a.m. in three days, in spite of going to bed at 10 or 10:30 and getting up with the baby at 6:15 or so. The baby also has the cold, and is still teething, which makes him snotty-nosed and red-faced and unhappy to the degree that I have to carry him around most of the day. Both boys are home -- this being Nicholas's off day from senior kindergarten -- and have been agitating about my ankles and complaining like a pair of hungry cats, but I'm too tired and the baby's nap schedule too uncertain for me to go out anywhere.
All of this would not be so bad, however, if Simon hadn't accidentally dropped a rolling pin right on the nail of my big toe this afternoon, which caused me two minutes of blinding pain and about ten more of wincing and hissing between my teeth, and has only now dulled to a throbbing but manageable ache. Fortunately, it doesn't seem to be broken, but I won't be surprised if I lose the nail.
However, there is a big pot of beef and beans in the oven, which I will certainly enjoy eating even if the boys don't. The baby is sleeping peaceably for the moment. It's not a good day, but it could be a lot worse.