Ouch

It was a rough weekend. K8 spent the whole weekend with a nasty sinus headache that just wouldn't let go. Ouch.

Ozzi has a giant welt in the center of his forehead. It looks like the corner of the coffee table has converted him to Hinduism. Maybe Ganesha will make his new cold go away. Double ouch.

I have a wonderful little bruise across the bridge of my nose after being attacked by my ladder while trying to force it into a pile of snow and ice. Though considering the level of disregard for my personal safety while I attempted to remove the ice dams on our roof, I should consider myself lucky that's all I got, but still, ouch.

K8 has been doing a damn good job balancing a demanding career with getting in quality time with the boys. Yet Q, it seems, has entered a catholic mother phase in which he has taken it upon himself to break K8's will with guilt. I don't know how many times Q told K8 to, "Go to work for just a little bit then come home." All of my attempts to explain why mom has to go to work, that he's lucky to see her as much as he does, and that for many kids both parents go to work everyday are disregarded. The cliche "starving kids in Africa" speeches swim just below the surface. Then this morning Q and I have this conversation.
"Papa, Barack Obama lives in the White House?"
"Yep, now that he's president he lives in the White House."
"And he works in the White House too?"
"Yeah, his office is in the White House too."
He ponders this for a few seconds, making connections.
"Papa, I want MomMom to be president."
"Umm, No. No you don't."

OUCH!