This was NOT my night last night:
Bed at 11:40 (the thought actually ran through my head, "I better quit reading and go to sleep, what if someone wakes up sick." Bad omen?
1:20 Meg throws up all over her face????? and has to be bathed, hair washed, bed stripped, new jammies, etc. Then she had to come to bed with us because ALL her sheets were NOT dirty.
Meg does not sleep if she is not in her crib.... toss and turn until....
3:01 Connor gets in our bed with an earache. Connor's ear is excruciating, he cries and tosses and turns with it until 5 AM. Meg is also awake this entire time.
4:45 AM, I finally scold Meg to the point where she lays down and gets still and I don't know at what point she fell asleep but I don't hear from her again.
5AM Connor wants to get up. I turn on cartoons for him and go to sleep (finally)
7AM morning routine begins... total hours of sleep, 4. (2 from 11 to 1 and 2 from 5 to 7.)
I did NOT think at about 3:45 AM, "At least now I have my "Not Me Monday" post."
I did NOT consider just turning on the light and the TV and letting them watch toons all night while I finished Breaking Dawn.
I am not drinking 2X my normal amount of coffee this morning in the hopes that I will not fall asleep on the 45 minute drive to our pediatrician's office.
My kids are not having popsicles for breakfast (not the school aged ones, just the pre-schoolers.)
I will not be napping this afternoon and possibly ordering pizza for dinner.... again!
I am not sitting here at 8 AM with my Not Me post ready while I watch more toons with two sick kids and continually hitting the refresh button on MckMama's blog. Even though I'm ready early this week, I'll probably still be about 200th on the list.... woe is me!
I was not partially worried about what all the sheet changes would do to my perfectly under control laundry. :(
And now that I am coming out of my fog, I do not have the sweetest sick child on the planet. She did not smile and laugh through her puked on state, even as she was crying.
And this is not the first time our little angel has run a fever. Seven months home and not so much as a cold, that's got to be some sort of record, even for children of germ-a-phobes, which, by the way, I am not!