Last night I crawled into Emeline's bed around 10:30 and stayed there until almost midnight trying to get her to go to sleep. I was very grateful when she finally drifted off and I could return to my own bed.
Then Eli woke up at 1:30. He hasn't done that since he was two months old. After feeding him I gratefully sank into my own bed once more only to be awoken by Emeline around 6:00 am. When Timothy got up he went downstairs and brought Emeline up to our bed, where I snuggled with her for all of a few minutes before Eli woke up again. I got up to feed him, and then got back into bed--only to get out a few minutes later when I heard Cowen crying.
Cowen never does that and he sounded so sad. When I got to his room he was laying, forlorn, in his bed. I asked him what the matter was and he said, "My back hurts." I asked, "Why does your back hurt?" And Cowen replied, "Because I had a bad dream about Star Wars."
I led Cowen upstairs and tucked him into the orange recliner with a blue blanket and went back to bed. Only to discover that Emeline (who was now in the bathroom with her daddy) had written all over the sheets with a marker. Two year olds. Sigh.
I stayed in bed until Timothy left then dragged myself out to check on Emeline and Cowen. Only to discover that Cowen had thrown up. For some reason, I hadn't put hurting back and Star Wars dream together to mean tummy upset. And I call myself a mother.
I took care of Cowen then went back into my room to get dressed only to discover that Emeline had squirted some green paint onto the floor. Why did I allow a child into my room?? The truth is, though, that I was so relieved it was a normal two year disaster and not a Miriam level disaster that it didn't phase me. My curtain material was lying right next to where the green paint ended up and it could have been devastation--but it wasn't. If it had been Miriam at that age . . . better not to think of it. As it was--I was lucky.
The rest of the day wasn't so bad considering I have three sick kids. My allergies were a lot better because it snowed (weird weather) so that was nice. I spent most of my day either holding Emeline or cleaning my room. Both important activities.
I also chatted briefly with the nice Jehovah Witness missionary that visits me periodically.
All in all, not such a bad day. Hopefully tonight the children and I will get a little more sleep.
6 comments:
YIKES!!
Are you sure this isn't all just a bad dream??!!!
Hang in there!
When it rains, it pours! :( You are a better woman than I to say that it wasn't a bad day overall. I would probably be lying on the floor in the fetal position and sucking my thumb if I were to have a day like that!
What a day. Those kind of crazy days happen once in a while don't they. I confess, I don't think I would have put the Star Wars and hurting back together to equal an upset stomach. That wasn't even mentioned in my parenting manual.
i have a a jehovas witness, myself. or rather, i did. two of them. we called them the "aunties" and they brought my kids gifts and i made them bread. and then we would talk scripture and life and philosophy. life was good. and then they went away and were replaced by two very aggressive-no-hint-takers who make me hide in my house and stuff my children in their rooms while they knock and knock and knock and then ring the door bell. i told you, aggressive. bb
*OBVIOUSLY* hurting back and star wars dream equals throw up. Sheesh.
I woke up today feeling sorry for myself- up and down all night with my two- actually spent about 1 1/2 hours in my own bed- and then I read this and two doesn't look so bad. Thanks for ending my pity party.
I love how similar Cowen and Coen are! Right now I am getting lots of hugs and kisses and I love you mommys and I miss you mommys- so i am reveling in the affects of my vacation to Ireland. Of course Beckett now has a love hate realtionship with me that involves clinging to my side every waking hour but crying for Dad if he is in the room and really just wanting the two of us to hold him at the same time.
Off to work- patients waiting.
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