1:30 a.m. Little guy is crying, and the husband goes to calm him down (must be a bad dream) and put him back in bed.
A few minutes later I see the bathroom light flick on, and I stumble out of bed to investigate.
“You didn’t poop your pants,” I hear the husband tell him quietly. He fills me in that little guy keeps saying he pooped his bed.
I take another step to help calm him down, and then I smell it.
“I smell puke,” I say.
The husband goes back to the little guy’s bedroom and turns on the light. “Oh…” (Turns out little Monkey was trying to tell Daddy he puked in his bed, not pooped…”
The next few hours were a blur of trying to calm him down about his beloved stuffed Lightning McQueen that was in need of a good washing, singing to him, and trying to get him comfy on the reclining loveseat so that he might fall back asleep. (He would not sleep in his bed without his stuffed buddy, and I just wanted him to get some rest.)
A short time before 5 a.m. he was finally asleep, with his head hanging off the edge of the couch and me too afraid I might wake him to move him.
5 a.m. big sister wakes up to use the bathroom. I wait, hoping husband will hear her and help her back to bed. No such luck. I weigh the consequences: leave her alone and hope she doesn’t start crying or yelling for someone, which will no doubt wake her brother, or try to slide off the loveseat without waking him so I can help her. I go for the latter, and thankfully he stays asleep.
Of course the upside to this is that I can also pee, which I’d been needing to do for an hour or so.
I finally start to doze when the husband wakes to go to work. I rouse myself to give him the low-down, spray out the puke bowl with some Lysol (that HAS to improve the smell of the room), and head back to the loveseat, an expert now at sliding in and out without waking my poor Monkey.
I shut my eyes for a blessed 30 minutes before the preschooler re-awakens, this time for the day. I slip out to greet her, let her know she needs to be quiet, and fix her her favorite peach oats.
Somehow I have survived the day without being too cranky with the little ones. I am crossing my fingers that Monkey’s tummy troubles stem from his drinking water from the water table last night, which he had been adding potting soil to, trying to create mud. If not, then hopefully this stomach bug will leave our household quickly, without too much drama.
Here’s hoping your weekend is off to a better start!
P.S. Here is real joy: