*cough cough*

I'm *still* friggin sick.  I've taken my last dose of antibiotics, and whereas I don't feel as close to death as I did, say, three days ago... all I want to do is crawl into bed and pull the covers up over my head.

For anyone who was wondering?  OH.MY.GOD.  Fibromyalgia is *so* much worse when you're dealing with all-over body aches from being sick.

And PT?  Oh, how I actually miss you.  What I wouldn't give for some massage without having to drive my happy ass through the near-single-digit weather.  Bah.

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On another, yet similar note:

Last night, Greyson was practicing his role as "Grumplestiltskin, King of all That is Crabby," and decided to try and evade punishment by (DUH!) hiding out in the kitchen solo (which he is NOT supposed to do at ANY time, be in there unsupervised).  My frustration meter was pushing *past* the red zone for the night, and I firmly told him to "Get his happy butt in the den *right now*!!"

The response I got?

"It's NOT a happy butt, it's a MAD butt!!!"

Needless to say, I had to keep an *extra* strict face as I made sure he sat down, because not two feet away, my Mom was LOSING IT with her face buried in her arms, laughing for the both of us... because SOMEONE has to mean business, right?  LOL

Luckily, Greyson's *mad butt* hasn't made a reappearance today.  Instead it has been replaced with a badly swollen lower lip from slipping and falling on the basement floor when trying to escape the bedroom that he had so tactfully snuck into while I was *trying* to get a little shuteye after Ralph got home.

Needless to say, those efforts were cut short, because Ralph started to freak a bit on the amount of blood coming from Greyson's lip.  Lucky for us, Mommy knows quite a bit in the world of general medical knowledge, and once I got a look at the offending "little" wound - just a bad case of tooth versus lip.  A bit of pressure and some ice did the trick, and I am happy to inform you that I did *not* find it necessary to rush the child out for stitches.  LOL

After all, the kid busted his forehead open on the corner of the coffee tables a few months ago, and doesn't even have a scar now.  And BOY, did THAT bleed.  Eww.  Those damn head wounds and their bloody adventures, I tell ya.  Sheesh.