Saturday 2:35 a.m.
Awake with a start to Birdie in the doorway, “I’m sorry, Mama, I threw up.”
Jumped out of bed and got her to the bathroom where she miraculously made it to the toilet, cleaned her up and put her back in bed and tried to gently stroke her forehead until I realized I was passing out, kissed her and stumbled back to bed, stopping only to call Paul (who had gone back to work with an emergency) and mumble incoherently for a few minutes before hanging up and falling asleep.
Sunday 3:35 a.m.
Dreamt someone was screaming and awoke to the thought, “Must stop screaming lest it wakes our guests” In my dream they were specific people, but once I awoke I realized we had no guests and later realized they weren’t real people. Lept out of bed and ran yelling, “Mama’s coming!” to the girls’ room, pushed open the door and saw Beanie, dressed only in a diaper, standing in the corner of her crib screaming, “My poopie is hurting my bottom!” Lydia was half awake and muttering unintelligibly. I grabbed the Bean, laid her on the floor, extracted the painful poo, put a fresh diaper on and redressed her. Holding her I didn’t know quite what to do. I was so tired I could barely stand. I know it’s like a horror movie and you’re all yelling, “Get out of there! Run!!!!!”
It’s so easy to know what to do when you are sitting in the audience. On the screen it gets a little confusing.
So I brought her back to bed with me where Paul was still lying comatose and tucked her in between us. She immediately started sucking her thumb and snuffling her blankie. We both were out like a light in seconds.
Sunday 8:00 a.m.
Awoke to two little feet in my side and Paul asking, “How did this happen?”