High fevers, psychotic mommy's and men who collect hats. That's what my days have been full of for the last little while.
The hubby came home sick the other day and suffered all weekend. Yesterday, the little person seemed to contract whatever her daddy had because she spent the day with a fever and sleeping and it was a restless night to say the least. This morning there is still a fever though it does go down with each children's Tylenol I pump into her. Probably calls for a trip to the doctor but we'll see how she is in a couple of hours.
But amidst it all, I have written stories, submitted stories and now it's the 'hurry up and wait' we writers are so good at. I sent off a story Saturday. The one I have dubbed 'psycho mommy', dealing with the aftermath of postpartum psychosis. It was an interesting topic to write about, and a mentally draining subject to research. But the story came out fairly strong so for that, I am satisfied. Lets just hope someone else thinks so too.
And then there is the hat collector. Such an intriguing character. An old man telling a story of his childhood and dogs who eat Chiclets. Fun stuff. That one is still in the writing stage but it's coming along.
So all in all, I have 5 pieces of writing out there in the big wide world, trying to fend for themselves like the child I will let go of one day. And just like the disheveled mother...I really hope they don't come home, unless they really, really have to.