In rummaging through my blog archives looking for something, I realized today is the sixth anniversary of being offered my first publishing contract. I’m now wrapping up my fourteenth title and it still seems unreal at times that I’m lucky enough to have this job. Even on the days it’s hard, it’s still a dream come true.

Speaking of days it’s hard, last night the Short Kid started making noises about being stuffy and feeling warm and in general setting the stage for the Monday morning “I don’t feel good”. When I woke this morning stuffy and feeling warm and fuzzy-brained, however, I made the mistake of saying “I can’t believe you made me sick”, which was taken as incontrovertible evidence of his legitimately not feeling well. We’re now a miserable matched set. And since Wednesday is almost certainly going to be a snow day, he’ll try to weasel out of tomorrow, too. Germ-infested brat.

Nothing amps up the Mondayness of a Monday like cold meds.