It just never fails.

My friends-Your probably all tired of seeing my gmail chat, my facebook status and my blogs be consumed with 'I'm sick' commentary. But, I'm sick. I was sick two weeks ago, passed it on to Sean and it's made full circle back to me again. I'm ginormously thankful that it has yet to hit Alex & Ian (please hold as I try to find some real wood to 'knock' in this here cubicle of mine).

Last night, we decided to call it an early night. Sean went to bed at 8. After some extra snuggles from Alex on the couch and a few stories, I called it quits at 8:40. For the first time in weeks, I was appreciative of the shorter days in that I didn't have to go to bed in the daylight. Expecting a long, full 8 hours of slumber that would leave me energized and ready for today, instead I got this:


9 pm: lights out, dead to the world, asleep.

11 pm: Alex wakes in a crazy cry fit. It was either a nightmare, a loss of her piggy, or a blanket had twisted around her body I couldn't tell.

11:30 pm: Alex finally settles back to sleep. I return to my bed and lose consciousness once again.

11:39 pm: Ian wakes. I believe by the way he was contorting his body when I peeked in on him, his arm had fallen asleep and we all know how that can hurt.

11:45 pm: A bink, a musical pull toy pull settles Ian back in and I return to bed.

12:01 am: I wake in a panic after dreaming I found an excederin migraine pill on the floor of the upstairs hall. Since I do this frequently? And am full of rational thoughts in the middle of the night, I wander into the hall to check. Nothing.

2:20 am: Ian stirs again. I wake, stare longingly at the baby monitor pleading with the red lines to please please please go away. They do. And I'm out again.

3:39 am: Cries from Alex's room again. I find her writhing in her bed soaked head to toe. She's wet the bed. For the first time in 3 months since no more pull-ups. Why tonight? Why me? I pull off her sheets, change her jammies and count the minutes until my alarm will go off. 1 hr, 20 minutes. I change the alarm from 5am to 5:10. As if it matters.

4:15 am: Ian wakes. He cries he cries he cries. Every 3rd day or so, he gets thirsty this time of day. Sean responds. Thank God. He goes and makes a bottle. I wait the 3 minutes it takes for Ian to guzzle his milk, fingers crossed that he'll fall back asleep. He doesn't. 55 minutes and counting til this night from hell will end and I'm charging in to gather my son and pull him into bed with me. It's dire straights, and drastic measures. It's my last and most desperate option but it's my only hope. He turns on his side, and snuggles into the best spoon ever.

4:30 am: My arm's asleep, and Ian's sound asleep. I take him back to his bed and voila! He's back down. I change the alarm to 5:30. 30 minutes is enough time to get up, ready and to work 20 miles away. Right? Another rational 'wee hours of the morning' thought.

5:30 am: Alarm sounds. Sean hits snooze.

5:42 am: Alarm sounds. Sean hits snooze.

5:54 am: Alarm sounds. Sean hits snooze. I apologize and beg for one more.

6:06 am: Alarm sounds. Sean hits snooze. "Next one I promise", I mutter.

6:18 am: Alarm sounds. I throw the covers back and stomp into the bathroom. I'm 18 minutes late to work.