I woke up this morning crumpled into the red chair in my living room, with a sweaty 2 1/2 year old drooling all over my chest, her fingernails clawing at my ear.

The Circus is sick once again. This time, we seem to be lucky - it is a fever with a mild runny nose, but nothing too traumatic. This is my first day feeling the effects first hand.

I unfolded out of the chair, amused at the face contorting and dramatic stretching that my baby went through to get resettled. I wandered into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. I put the cup under the spigot, pushed the start button. Nothing.

Oh! Must plug it in. Okay. Plugged it in. Pushed the start button. Wandered away to break up a squabble in the other room. Fold up my blankets from my night in the chair. Wipe noses, put on a TiVo'd show. Back in the kitchen, I load the dishwasher and catch a glimpse of my empty cup, sitting all perky on the platform of the coffee maker, waiting to be filled. The light is glowing solid red. I push the 'two cup' button and the phone rings.

I get wrapped up in the phone conversation, and check my email. Oh! Coffee! I grab the cup and notice that I've got a half cup of hot, murky water. I forgot to add coffee. And water. It has been 45 minutes since my first attempt to make a cup of java.

This time, I fill the reservoir, add coffee, position my cup and push the start button. I stand by and wait for the light to turn solid, drumming my fingers on the counter. A howl and a crash causes me to speed into the bedroom, where my monkeys have been jumping on the bed, and stylishly took out a lamp in the process. I chase the kids out to the living room, and return to the kitchen, where I push the 'two cup' button once again.

Ah! The smell of coffee fills the air, and I gratefully grab my filled mug and add half and half to the brim. I take a single sip, and then abandon my cup on the counter to balance my washer, which is banging and lurching around in the hall laundry closet.

More noses need wiping. More conversations need to be had. My lack of desire to turn one wall of my daughter's bedroom into a ginormous salt water fish tank has to be explained. And explained again. And again. I would be dealing better with this if I had some coffee...

Ah! Coffee. Right. I find my lukewarm cup on the counter, cream scummy at the top. In a fit of petulance, I toss the whole thing and make a fresh cup, carefully following the needed steps while holding my green snot oozing children at bay (by placing the sole of my foot on their feverish foreheads as they approach my position.)

Well, that pretty much scrapes the bottom of the interesting blog material barrel. Whew! I'm blaming it on the fever, and also the delayed intake of caffeine.