I am exhausted. Why does this shit never happen when I am gone? Probably because I'm only gone like 5 days a year.
We got home on Monday night. Tim left Thursday night. I had plans of going to bed early in an attempt to recover some lost sleep from last weekend. I was just settling down under the covers when Claire woke up screaming. I got up to see what the problem was. She hasn't been sleeping well for about a month now; she has a cough that only allows her to sleep restlessly at night.
Which is why I had taken her to the doctor that afternoon: after a month of coughing, I figured it was no longer just a cold. The only time they could fit us in was at 3:40, which is smack in the middle of nap time. Also, the appointment was with the doctor that I do not like. We didn't start out well, did we? Anyway, we got there, crabby kids and all (Claire had actually not slept a wink during that afternoon nap), and proceeded to wait 50 *%$@# minutes. Fifty. I began the wait by trying to keep the kids in line: "Shh, girls, not so loud!" By the end I was letting them climb every piece of furniture, help themselves to as many stickers as they could grab out of the "one per visit" basket, eat crackers (I'm pretty sure there is a "no food" policy), and shriek to their hearts' content. When we finally got seen, it was for 5 minutes worth of weighing, checking ears and throat, and the doctor coming to the conclusion that it was not allergies like I had thought, but perhaps a little asthma and bronchitis. Just a little of those things, though, like that was supposed to make me feel better. She gave me a prescription for an inhaler and an antibiotic. An inhaler? For a toddler? Are you kidding? But, this is also the doctor that has previously advised me to tilt her bed at night to help with congestion. Like Claire stays in one position for more than 15 minutes.
We went home and had some dinner, and I had the girls in bed by 7:15. I thought I was going to be in heaven: I was going to get to go to bed early! So, now back to the story I started earlier. Let's see....just settling down, Claire started crying... I went in and there she was, covered in vomit. Awesome. I checked the clock: 10:45. Just 4 hours after her first bath of the night, and she was about to get another one. I started the water, tried to calm her down without picking her up (see also: covered in vomit), undressed her and put her in the bath. She was shaking and whimpering, and I felt so bad for her. I hate to be sick, and I hate seeing my kids sick - it's so sad when you can't explain to them what is going on. Got her dried off, changed the sheets, put her back in bed....15 minutes later: same thing. More vomit, more hysterical baby, another bath, more sheets. Repeat scenario every 15-60 minutes until 3am. Also include me crying while trying to explain to my baby that she couldn't have any "mao", "jewce", or "watew", 2 loads of laundry, scrounging for clean mattress covers, about 15 minutes worth of sleep for me, and you have my night.
Of course, Kate was up, bright and chipper, at 7am. Me, not so much. It's hard for me to be chipper with 4 hours of sleep.
Claire drank Pedialyte and ate bananas all day yesterday, and seems to be fine now. I don't know what made her sick; I had not yet given her any medication, luckily, or I would have sworn it was the antibiotics that caused it. I spent yesterday trying to explain to Kate why Dexter the babysitter wasn't coming over after all while I went to my very important doctor's appointment (had to cancel due to sick kid), why we couldn't go to the park (exhaustion), why I was slow to warm to the idea of chasing her around the house (exhaustion), and why it was nap time at 12:30 instead of 1:00 (exhaustion). I did get to sleep for 2 hours yesterday afternoon, and I am slightly more coherent today.
How's your weekend going?
