Carson woke up around 11:30 last night coughing uncontrollably and crying. Luckily he was crying for his Daddy (I knew there were pros to his Daddy favoritism!), so Tate went up to console him. I could tell by listening over the monitor that Carson was refusing to go back to bed, as he wailed every half hour when Tate would attempt to put him in his crib.
I felt desperate for sleep and hearing Carson carrying on made me feel panicked.
“Tomorrow is going to be a HORRIBLE day! I won’t be able to do it alone! How will I ever manage to prepare meals and care for TWO children, one of which is DESPERATELY sick???!!! I’ll be so exhausted, I won’t even be able to get out of bed. Oh PLEASE just let me sleep!”
At 3 AM, I felt bad for Tate because (PANIC!) he had to WORK tomorrow and he’d hardly gotten any sleep. I went upstairs to relieve him of his duties. He didn’t hesitate to let me take over (DAMMIT!), and quickly left me with the coughing, barrel rolling child in our spare bed.
“I’m NEVER going to get any sleeeeeeep! Woe is me!” My mind raced with the thoughts of the terrible day that awaited.
Carson thrashed and kicked and coughed and tossed and turned for what seemed like HOURS. FINALLY I fell into a oft interrupted sleep as I was repeatedly awakened by jabs to my ribs and back. The desperate feelings and panic also kept me awake as laid there worrying.
The morning light invaded it’s way through the blinds too early this morning, but found a bright and cheerful Carson.
“Get UP, Mommy! Carson doesn’t feel shit!”
I assumed he meant he didn’t feel SICK.
All that panic and worry was for nothing. Sure I’m a little tired this morning, but really? Getting all worked up about the unbearable day that awaited? Slight overkill.
(I think Carson just has a cold, not Ella’s “cock sucky” or “hoof and mouth disease.”)
Oh and one more thing…I’m, uh, expecting a Canon 450D (Rebel XSi) in the mail any day now. REALLY. Moral to the story: Begging works! Details later.