So, here I am in Mill Valley, after a long day. I just finished working, here in a home that belongs to some friends. They are living overseas and I am their bookkeeper extrordinaire. (It really took me a long time to figure out how to spell that word.) Excuse the boring details, I am running on very little sleep.
My kids decided to gang up on me last night and take turns being awake and miserable. Yes, yes, they were sick, but since they appeared to be totally well this morning, as well as for the rest of the day, I believe it was an evil plot that they concocted between them. They probably learned it from Baby Einstein, in the subliminal message section. (I can just see the poor mom now, who googles Baby Einstein and gets to this site.)
Anyways, I got two blissful uninterrupted hours of sleep from 11:00 to 1:00 and after that it was all over. We heard the unmistakable sound of vomit hitting the sheets and that, my friends, is a disgusting sound. You parents know. It's actually no big deal, after you've cleaned it up a few times. What I'm amazed at is the amount of compassion for a sick child that I can dredge up out of myself in the wee hours of the morning. It's unbelievable. I feel so sad for their little confused selves, totally not comprehending why they are covered in grossness.
But one sick kid is enough. YaYa threw up over herself and her bed, and Chinua and I cleaned her and it up, and then I nursed Leaf, who was awakened by all the fuss. He then became deranged and wouldn't go back to sleep. I thought about calling him a bad baby, but then I thought of my mother and decided I ought not. She would probably find out about it somehow, and Leaf is a little bit special to her. He finally drifted off around 2:00. The following is an approximate timeline of the rest of the night.
2:30 - Kid A wakes up. We run to the bathroom and he throws up. I get him water and rub his back.
3:00 - Leaf wants more num nums. I can't talk him out of it.
3:30 - Kid A gets up to vomit again.
4:00 - Leaf wants more num nums. I think about using the "B" word again, and decide against it again. He kicks me while he nurses and I cannot fall asleep. After he goes back to baby sleep land I lie awake, mind racing until:
5:00 - Kid A has violent diarrhea and vomits simultaneously. I stand beside him and hold a bowl for him.
5:30 - Leaf is crying again. I surmise that he must not be feeling well either and start feeling more sorry for him... and myself.
6:00 - More pooping.
6:30 - More nursing.
7:00 - I run to Elena's cabin to tell her that our family will not be part of the church caravan and then I run back and drift off to sleep.
After I nursed the Leaf baby at 8:30, Chinua got up with the kids and let me sleep for awhile. I drifted in and out of consciousness, noting that the kids seemed amazingly chipper. I think that this was when I realized it was a plot. What I did to deserve it, I don't know. But I think YaYa took pity on me, because she sat beside me in bed for awhile and just stroked my back. She's so sweet.
I really wasn't planning on writing a whole post about this, but I must have had to work that out of my system. Writing as therapy. I will save a lot of money this way. So that I can spend it on GAS. (I live in the most expensive gas zone in the country. We are close to hitting $3.50 Click on the link. That's us, in the top left corner of California. The dark, dark red. It says Humboldt, but we're right on the county line, and most of our driving is done in Humboldt.)
What I really wanted to write about was the documentary that Chinua and I watched last night, Rivers and Tides, which had us crying with joy. It was so beautiful, about the work of artist Andy Goldsworthy. He's amazing. You should really see it.