At about 2:30 this morning I awoke to my three year old, who was sleeping on a cot next to our bed, fussing and moaning - I figured it was a nightmare, and rolled to check on her. Well, I immediately realized what was about to happen, but was a little slow reacting - the first wave got me, her, AND part of my bedspread. Needless to say, there was a lot more, one upset little one, a cranky husband (because I woke him up and made him help me), and a VERY frazzled me. Now, any of you out there who have or have had little ones knows that there is never a good time for your child to erupt like Mt. Vesuvius, however, it especially stinks in the middle of the night when you are already dog tired and have to get up early to take your husband to work since you are down to ONE vehicle!! Mind you, my first concern was for Emily - I hate that my baby girl was feeling bad - and I wished to God that it was me who had erupted, A) because I would rather me be sick than either of my babies, and B) because I could have made it to the bathroom.
My concern soon took a backseat to the disdain I felt toward Bryan for acting put out that I woke him up and made him help me clean Emily up. If it were up to him, he would have just changed her jammies and sent her back to bed - I gave him an ultimatum: give Emily a proper bath and put her in fresh jammies or clean up the mess... Yeah, I won that battle and poor Ems got bathed. Once he was finished with Em, he marched his happy self back to bed and didn't even ask me if I wanted/needed help! Once Cinderella (that's me) finished scrubbing the rug, removing and bagging the bio hazardous linens, decontaminating Emily's beloved bear "Bert," re-making the cot, getting a Em's teeth brushed (because who really wants ick mouth?!), and getting her put back down with the largest pot I could find in the kitchen, here comes wave number two... Thankfully that last tidal wave seemed to be all that was left in her poor, tired little body and we settled back into bed - for a nice 2 -2 1/2 hour nap... I am beat, disappointed (in Bryan), perturbed (at Bryan), and sad (that my peanut got sick in the first place). Silver lining in the whole ordeal, I suppose, would have to be the fact that I did get a little sleep and that Emily seems to be feeling better... *SIGH*
This incident is just another in a long laundry list of things gone wrong, things unpleasant, and things that just plain suck. Here lately I feel really alone, and I really just want to hang my head and cry. I am well aware of the fact that things can ALWAYS be worse, and that I am a lot more fortunate than most, and I do try to count my blessings as often as possible (which is at least once daily!) - I just wonder how much one person can/is supposed to take, because all of these little things pile up and can really wear on a person after a while... "I've got miles of troubles spreading far and wide; bills on the table getting higher and higher - they just keep on comin', there ain't no end in sight; I'm just holdin' on tight..." --Sugarland
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