I have fallen into the trap of the Family Cold.
My plan to get it all out of the way quickly was a good one, Emma is well and the twins are on the mend. Marty has thus far avoided it, but Drew and I started feeling it over the weekend, and if all goes according to plan we will be better by this weekend.
You know, just in time for one of us to bring home something else.
Drew is worse off than I am, his little nasal passages get clogged so much faster than anyone else, and he is miserable. The last few nights have been really hard, I finally started timing things and he is waking up every six to eight minutes.
Literally. I am not joking around here. The poor kiddo cannot breathe well and is a fuss bucket all. night. long.
Finally at about five thirty this morning, I gave the poor child a pillow in his crib to prop him up a little.
Yeah, I know it's wrong. He's only nine months old, and you aren't supposed to give kids bedding till they are at least a year.
But he actually slept for a good hour and a half stretch, which he needed badly. I needed that sleep badly, too, but I needed a shower even more badly. I am so tired I am writing things that don't make much sense, like "even more badly." Maybe they do make sense, but in my sleep deprived state, they sound like strange child-created English to me. Like "more better" and "I see it with my ears!"
**By the way, honey, I'm sorry if I was rude to you this morning when you went to the bathroom with your alarm on snooze instead of turned off. I understand that you really thought you had turned it off, and I know that you would never intentionally leave it on for me to deal with, in the middle of my first thirty minute stretch of sleep in a few days. And I apologize if it is no longer in... ummmmm... great working order. There is a small chance that instead of just turning it off, I might have ripped it from the wall and thrown it. It's hard to know for sure.**