|When 'they' coined the phrase, |
"sleeping like a baby," I think
they meant to say, "sleeping like a man!"
I woke up to the boy's crying close to midnight Saturday. Just as I was leaving my bedroom to criss-cross the hall to his, my 5-year-old daughter was coming out of her room, which is directly across from mine, crying. Crying and throwing up! Vomiting and darkness are bad combinations. Luckily, the hallway space between the bedrooms and the bathroom is small and in seconds we were in the bathroom with the light switched on. She threw up all over the floor and the toilet too. And she left a trail from her bed, across her room and spattered about in the hall. Guess what the last thing was that she had eaten? Unfortunately, cherries. On a cream colored carpet. I guess that will teach us to eat fruit off-season! The cherries hadn't made her sick, of course, but the bright red splotches all over nearly made me so.
By now the boy was screaming his lungs out and my 4-year-old was walking around to find out what was happening. Don't step in the vomit!!! I asked her to go wake up Papa to take care of the boy. I needed to clean up the bathroom so my 5-year-old, who was trapped by the mess on the floor, could get out of it and wrap up in something warm, as she consistently removes her pajamas each night, if I can get her in them at all.
Moments later she was back telling me she tried, but Papa wouldn't wake up. Baby still screaming, screaming, screaming. He could surely hear the commotion and see the bright lights under his door. These were not part of his typical night-waking experience!
Bathroom floor cleaned, daughter wiped down, hands washed. Back to bed for DD2, while cherry-girl, wrapped up in my cozy, warm bathrobe, rested on the floor while I changed her sheets and spot-cleaned the carpet. Thank you, Oxiclean spray. Thank you to my sister who recommended it for tough stains!
I manage to wake my husband so he can take care of the boy. He does. Sort-of. I get everything cleaned up, wiped down and sheets changed. Back to bed for the sick one. Bucket and towels arranged. Back to bed for the baby boy, who is still screaming, but now he's screaming for me while in bed with Papa. It's now around 1am.
2:00am. Daughter crying. I run into her room and she is successfully using the bucket. Clean up. Back to sleep.
2:40am. Daughter crying. Boy crying. Successful use of bucket. Precious lovey found face down in bucket. The spare is not the same, but she'll settle for it until morning. Clean up. Back to sleep for us for a blissful 4 hours.
For 5 years I've been amazed at the amount of activity and noise that can go on in the middle of the night without my husband ever even stirring. Apparently, it isn't just my husband, but according to a study done by Mindlab at the University of Sussex, men in general! I'll tell you more about those findings tomorrow! Meanwhile, I'll be keeping my fingers crossed that no one else in this house has a bout with any stomach bugs!