Simon

It’s 1:25 a.m., and here I sit at the computer with a hungry baby stuck to me. Why am I up instead of in bed with him? Because Simon is a sick little boy. Right- the one who’s not currently sucking my will to live along with his milk is the reason I’m up. OK, it’s not that bad, but it IS late… or early…

Simon had a really bad night last night. I was up with him several times when he woke up crying, and he felt very warm. I couldn’t give him anything for fever because he’s had cold medicine for his runny nose and cough that already had Tylenol in it, so I just cuddled my little human furnace until he was ready to go back to bed each time.

Today (actually, it’s yesterday now) was a baaaad day for him. Feverish all morning, and then a pretty good nap, but he woke up still feeling icky. I wanted him to eat something (since he hadn’t all day), so we went to Wendy’s and I got him his “chinken an’ fwies,” which he LOVES- and he didn’t touch it. He dipped his finger in the ketchup a few times and licked it, but that’s it. He didn’t even want “donnun” (doughnut), another of his favourites.

He perked up a little this evening, after watching “Yellow Submarine” and not having any supper. He went to bed without any problems (which is more than I can say for Isaac!) and went to sleep. I was expecting a good night.

Then Isaac woke me up. He did not want a pacifier, thank you very much, he wanted BOOB. He had his snack and went back to his own bed without ever really waking up.

Then Simon was crying and calling me, so I got up. He wanted a cuddle and something to drink, so we sat on the couch while he had apple juice, and then he went back to bed. Then Isaac got me up two more times- he’s got gas, I think. Then Simon was crying again, and he was quite upset, so up I got. He wanted to “go couch, go couch!” so I scooped him up. Just after we got out of his bedroom, though…

BLAAAAARRRFFF!  *SPLAT!*

Up came most of his apple juice, all over the floor and all over me. Mom heard the SPLAT on the floor and came out to help me; she sat with Simon while I got him some gravol, cleaned up the mess and changed my shirt. Back to bed again.

    2:13 a.m.

Oops- he did it again. I was sitting here, typing what you just read, when he started crying. Unfortunately, this woke Isaac up, and he was looking around like, Whoa, it’s dark, man. I put him in his crib, anyway.

Back to Simon’s room. “What’s the matter, Sweetheart?”

BLARF!

Oh.

So I got him up again and knocked on mom and dad’s bedroom door; mom got Isaac and sat with both of the boys while I cleaned up Simon’s sheets and friends (only a few casualties: Tiegit, McQueen and Polar Bear) and while I folded SOMEONE’S laundry so I could move the other laundry into the dryer so I could put Simon’s stuff in the wash, and changed my shirt again. At, and least  I’m productive.

Mission almost accomplished: Simon is back in bed and asleep. The mess is cleaned up. The only thing is, Ike is still awake. He’s lying on my bed right now, watching the mobile adnd starting to get mad at me for leaving him there. He thinks he just had a lovely nap, and now it’s awake time.  

This is why we try not to waske Isaac up at night.  :/

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