No rest for the weary

I can't wait for Andrew to come back so I can get a good night's sleep. Let me tell you about Friday night:

I was up with Benjamin until 11:00.

I cleaned the kitchen and chatted with Andrew before going to bed around midnight, leaving my closet light and the kitchen light on because I'm a scaredy cat.

At around 12:30 AM I wake up because the motion sensor light in our backyard went off. That always, always creeps me out. I chatted to Andrew again (because he was still awake on the other side of the country, trying to finish up a paper) who tried to convince me it was just a deer. Our house backs onto the woods so that's not out of the realm of possibility and in fact is the logical conclusion. But...I'm a scaredy cat. Did I mention that?

I went back to bed around 1:00 AM.

Benjamin woke up screaming at 1:30 AM. I took him into bed with me and nursed him back to sleep. He's sick and teething and miserable but we finally manage to fall asleep.


Around 3:00 AM I woke up to the sounds of Miriam hacking her lungs out. She's also sick and miserable (though not teething). I give her a spoonful of honey and rub her back until she calms down. Then I hear Benjamin fussing so sprint back to my bedroom to make sure he's not going to fall off the bed. I add a few extra pillows to the floor just in case. Then I hear Miriam crying so I run back to the girls' room. I'd neglected to tuck her in before running off to check on Benjamin and this was terribly upsetting to her. I tucked her in and then went back to bed.

Around 4:00 AM I hear the pitter-patter of little feet fleeing from my bathroom. I crack my eyes open and spot long blonde hair trailing behind a distraught four-year-old figure. I get up and stumble after Miriam, who has since collapsed on her bed in a fit of tears. "I forgot to brush my teeth!" she wailed. "You brushed your teeth before you went to bed," I assured her (she'd cried about it because we bought "big kid" toothpaste and it's minty and she hates it but I know she brushed because she likes it). "But what were you doing in my closet?" I asked. "I was looking for you all over!" she cried. "I was in bed because it's the middle of the night," I informed her. She did not think this was logical. The idea of me hanging out in my closet in the middle of the night, however, was logical.

We all went back to bed but at 6:00 AM Benjamin woke up crying again. I nursed him back to sleep once again (which, I mean, it's totally normal to still be nursing your 17 month-old in the middle of the night, right? (hashtag: heaven help me, hashtag: of course 6 AM is the middle of the night, hashtag: how did we communicate before hashtags?)).

I thought for sure that since I'd let the kids stay up late watching half of Harry Potter and since they're all sick and were coughing all night long and since in the morning it would be Saturday...for sure they'd all sleep in a little bit. But no.

At 8:00 AM I am pounced on by both Miriam, who's demanding to be fed. Rachel's already on the couch—up, dressed, and planning a track and field day for everybody.

The saddest part of the day, though, was when Benjamin fell asleep for ten minutes in the car while we were running errands and when I tried to get him to take a nap when we got home he was all, "Uh, I totally already did this...so, no thanks."

Saturday night went much the same as Friday night—though I saw more of Miriam and less of Benjamin (Rachel blissfully slept through this all)— and I began to question how I was ever going to survive the weekend. But on Sunday morning when Benjamin asked to be taken potty and then pooped and it was solid (TMI, I'm sure, but he had diarrhea all day Friday and all day Saturday and [babies + diarrhea = the worst].) I knew it was going to be a good day. And for the most part, it was.

I felt like I was nearly run off my feet at church—between tending Benjamin and helping wrangle sixty kids during a rehearsal for the primary program—but when we got home Benjamin went down for a nap and so did I. We didn't get up until five.

My sweet little girls spent two-and-a-half hours playing quietly in their bedroom. They decorated a box, turning it into a playhouse for Miriam, they read stories together, they played dolls. Rachel did everything she could to keep Miriam happy and only came to wake me up when she heard Benjamin waking up.

I was about to type that I don't know what I did to deserve her. But I do know what I did to deserve her because remember her babyhood? That was brutal.

Now that she's six, she's a joy to have around. Last night she was telling me that she can't wait until she's twelve so that she can babysit Miriam and Benjamin for me all the time—so that I can get a job.

"Well, you'll still have to go to school," I reminded her. "And by the time you're twelve both Miriam and Benjamin will be in school as well."

"When can I babysit then?" she asked.

"Oh, when Mommy and Daddy go out on dates," I said.

"But you never go out on dates!" she complained before a lightbulb lit up over her head. "Oh, but when I'm twelve you guys can date as much as you want!"

Careful what you wish for Rachel. I'm not saying we're going to take advantage of her offer (who am I kidding? We're totally going to take advantage of her offer); I'm just saying to be careful what you wish for.

Anyway, last night Miriam and Rachel both slept through the night (which was glorious), though I was still up and down like a yo-yo with Benjamin. Getting Rachel up for school was a little bit painful and then her bus was a half hour late (again!)

And now it's Wednesday. Andrew's been home for approximately 24 hours. However, I failed to factor in his afternoon classes and evening meeting so nearly had a nervous breakdown when I realized yesterday morning that Andrew still wouldn't be home for dinner or bedtime on Tuesday night.

Today, though. Today he should be home for both dinner and bedtime and that will be glorious!