9pm - The Mouse wakes up screaming. Nurse her back to sleep.
11pm - The Mouse wakes up again. She has been restless for the last 2 hours. She doesn't want to nurse. Instead she falls asleep as we rock in the rocking chair.
Midnight - The Mouse is up again. Falls asleep in my arms and 20 minutes later projectile vomits all over herself, me, the pillow, the rug. Rush her into the bathroom, strip her down in the tub as she wails because she is confused over what is happening.
2am - The Mouse is finally asleep again, having puked up all there is to puke, in between bouts of dancing around her room and playing in the dark. Throw puke soaked pjs (hers and mine) and towels in the wash before heading back to bed.
9pm - The Mouse wakes crying. Fussy, she babbles something that sounds like "hurts" as she rubs her stomach. Her tummy gurgles and tells me to brace myself for a repeat of last night. Drape myself and the rocking chair in towels to avoid another late night wardrobe change. I am unsuccessful.
10pm - The Mouse wants her Daddy. Bring her into our bedroom. Husband takes over while I throw puke soaked pjs (hers and mine) and towels into the wash.
11pm - The Mouse's ass explodes all over her pj's, our king size blanket, and my pjs.
Midnight - Add Yours Truly to the pukefest, as well as Hubby though he has left for work leaving me to fend for myself and leaving The Mouse to wander the livingroom in the dark while I lock myself in the bathroom.
2am - Put The Mouse back to bed. Throw shit-puke-stained laundry into the wash.
9am - Cinderella is sick. Sore throat, headache, swollen glands. She spends the better part of the day on one couch. Husband on the other. I sleep upstairs whenever I can.
3pm - The Mouse's ass explodes again. ::sigh:: More laundry.
Snow day. Schools closed. Cinderella is still not feeling well. Give several shots of motrin throughout the day and try to keep myself from strangling her and her brother as they bicker from boredom.
3pm - The Mouse's ass explodes. Drag her into tub to hose her down while she flails and bangs head on tub floor b/c GOD, WOMAN I JUST WANT TO CUDDLE CAN'T YOU SEE I DON"T FEEL WELL???. Wrap her in a towel and rock in the rocking chair while reciting the "Don't Poop" prayer to myself. Throw crib bedding, babydoll outfit, clothes (hers and mine) into wash.
9am - The Mouse wakes up, her ass having exploded YET AGAIN. Strip her down in tub, hose her off, do another load of laundry (hers and mine).
11am - Take Cinderella to the pedicatrician. It's Strep. HOO-effin-RAH! Get prescription from doc, realize Cinderella's insurance card is at home so will have to go home to get it before going to pharmacy.
11:20am - Take call from Malificent (BioMom) and give her the news. Oh, I could tell from her voice that she was really sick. Umm... yeah? Funny we didn't pick up on that AT ALL.
11:30am - Drive PAST pharmacy, leave kids in car while I run into the house to get needed insurance card and drive BACK to pharmacy to drop off 'script.
11:35am - Reassure Cinderella that yes, we will return to get her medicine lest she should keel over and DIE right in front of me.
11:45am - Reassure Cinderella that this is not her first time having Strep.
11:55am - Reassure Cinderella that we will go back to pharmacy after lunch to get her medicine.
12:15pm - Plans changed. Reassure Cinderella that we will go back to the pharmacy after The Mouse wakes up from her nap to get her medicine.
1pm. - Reassure Cinderella that we will go back to the pharmacy after The Mouse wakes up from her nap to get her medicine. And some earplugs for me.
2pm. Reassure Cinderella that we will go back to the pharmacy blah-blah-fucking-blah. And some
3pm - She's awakens! The Mouse is AWAKE!! Now we can go all pile back into the car and drive back to the pharmacy for Cinderella's preshus medicine! Happy! Happy! Joy!! Joy!! Never in the history of the world has there ever been a child more anxious to take her medicine!!!!
3:15pm - Reassure Cinderella that it will be OK if she waits until 8pm to take her medicine. That this is the kind of medicine that needs to be taken at the same time every day TWICE a day and there is no way in hell that I am waking up at 3:15 in the morning to give it to her.11pm - Hear The Boy (remember him? Yeah, he gets a role in this too.) "coughing" over the monitor. Go upstairs to check on him. He is sitting up in bed and simply says I had to puke. Change his pjs, carry him downstairs to snuggle with Husband. Go back upstairs to wash the sides of the bed, rug, garbage can and change sheets.
11:20pm - Husband comes upstairs for another pair of pjs b/c The Boy has puked again.
12:30am - Husband is asleep on couch. The Boy watches Dirty Jobs with me. He pukes again.
1am - I'm ready to go back to bed Mommy. Carry The Boy back upstairs, leave a garbage can by his bedside.
1:30am, 2:30am, 3:30am, 5am, 6:30am - Listen to sounds of The Boy throwing up over his monitor. Quietly am amazed at how grown-up and independent he is. Feel a little sad and a little relieved that he doesn't need to call for me.
7am - Despite having NO sleep, The Boy wants to go downstairs to watch tv. Set him up on the couch with a pail at his side... just in case. Crawl back into bed.
8am - Awakened by Cinderella coming to inform me that her Brother has thrown up on the rug downstairs and instead of helping him with the pail that I left NEXT TO HIM she decided it was better to come upstairs and tell me AS IT WAS HAPPENING. Go downstairs to check on The Boy and clean up the rug.
9am - Cinderella comes upstairs again to inform me that her Brother is throwing up on the couch and that she felt it more important to tell me than to HELP HIM. [Fold my arms. ::BLINK:: ] Go downstairs. Damn. The couch still needs to be cleaned.
11:15am - Realize The Boy has never had diarrhea IN HIS LIFE. Decide to have a talk with him to prepare him for the possibility that liquid poo might come shooting out of his ass at any time and to not be afraid but run like the dickens to the bathroom.
Noon - 2pm - The Boy sleeps on the couch.
4pm - A bowl of Cheerios. His first meal of the day.
5pm - Bedtime is 2 1/2 hours away. Still no signs of intestinal distress. Wondering if The Boy would be up for sleeping in the bathroom, just in case.