It seems that I’ve found myself another little visitor for the next few days. Mr. Cold has moved into the Brehm hotel and is killing my mojo. That’s right, in the time of my life where I am probably the healthiest I’ve ever been … pre-natal vitamins, lots of sleep, drinking water like it’s going out of style and at least a half hour of exercise a day … I have still managed to attract this unwanted guest. It started in the throat, tickled its way into my nose, has settled heavily into my sinuses and created one miffed mama. My head is in a fog and I would really welcome any relief. Here’s the catch though, when you’re pg, there are restrictions on the kind of drug love you can offer your ailments (that’s right, no shot of whiskey to cure what ails you). Add to this the fact that Snowball and I are dealing with my chronic hypertension and that pretty much leaves me with two options: Tylenol and gargling with salt water. Seriously? What did people do before the myriad of meds that are stocking the shelves at the neighborhood Walgreens?! So, it would appear that I’m going to have to attack this the old fashioned way: sleep, even more water (which means even more trips to the bathroom), and of course Christmas music.