I'm starting to understand why suicide rates go up in January. (Or do they? I'm going off memory here.) ((not that I'm planning to off myself, or anything. I'm just saying.))
I spend more time in doctor's offices in January than any other season.
I have kids dripping out of every orifice in their faces.
I have kids wake with dried blood cakes on their little cheeks (from thinned membranes in the nose...nothing worse, thank goodness).
I have kids wake all night.
I find out about antibiotic allergies.
I learn what hives look like.
I give lots of money to the medical community for telling me what I already know.
I regret NOT getting my nursing license and going on for the NP so that I can self diagnose.
I just want to scream.
Glorious sleep, where art thou? And when wilt thou return?