Can't write.....too tired.....zzzzzzz

I wanted to write about the frightening disconnection we parents have with our intuition. The teeth-chattering, knee-knocking fear we feel if we don't validate our parenting decisions, thoughts, feelings, bumblings, and triumphs with an expert. It could be our parents, or friends, or siblings, but mostly we don't feel secure unless we validate our choices with the Oprah's and Dr. Phils and Dr. Spocks. 

Sad. 

Millions of years of parenting evolution, so we can trust the talking heads. Maybe it's just me, but mostly, I can't help seeing their bulging eyes and listening to their stern warnings without imagining them surrounded by Wizard of Oz-type green fire. I just know, one day, some one's little dog is going to run out of Oprah's audience, pull back a curtain, and there will be a sad, chubby, lonely little man pulling her strings.

Just creeps me out.

So, yup, I was going to write a doozy of a post. With references, links, erudite dialog, jaw-dropping insights, and spectacular grammar. 

But, too tired. My four year old spent a sick Saturday night draining my will to live. If they were casting for a new zombie flick, possibly entitled, Day of the Sleepless Dead, I'd get the lead roll. There'd be no contest.  

Must go. Fingers tired. Eyes drooping. Drool pooling.......