I went to sleep feeling sick and hoping I’d feel better in the morning and at 3 AM my daughter woke me up to say she wanted to sleep with me, which was when I discovered that my oldest was already in bed with me and my husband was in our oldest’s bed. I told my daughter to get in bed with my husband, in our son’s bed, and instead my husband woke up and got in my daughter’s bed with her while I went to take some more cold medicine because I could tell that it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad night.
As I returned to my bed I tossed and turned but my sinus headache was keeping me awake so I decided to go sleep on the couch to elevate my head, leaving my son alone in our queen size bed, but once in the living room I realized that I wasn’t able to fall back asleep and I turned on the latest episode of House that had been recorded on my DVR.
Around 5:30 AM I had finally dozed off on the couch when our 2-year-old son started screaming bloody murder because his sippy cup was out of milk and as many times as we’ve told him to peacefully alert us to the lack of liquid refreshment to soothe him back to dreamland he still insists on shrieking at the top of his lungs until one of us, usually my husband, enters his room where we are then greeted by closed eyes and a raised hand and the words, “More Milk.”
A half hour later I had once again fallen asleep on the living room sofa when I realized that yet again there was a child crying for attention, this time being the youngest one who is only sated by a type of milk that my husband cannot provide him and so I found myself propped up in the living room, baby on my lap, sinuses raging and the end of the House episode flashing before my eyes.
It was at this moment I realized I was going to have a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
My husband’s alarm went off at 6:45 AM. The sounds of shower turning on and morning school preparations woke me on the couch. I crawled into my prewarmed bed hoping for a few more hours rest, only to hear the baby crying once again for Mama milk. Josh brought the baby to our bed and I prayed that we could both fall back asleep, until I felt the familiar wiggle of toddler legs climbing my comforter and a cheerful, “Hi Momma!”
Head still foggy from nighttime cold medicine, stomach aching from post-nasal drip, I stumbled my way out to the living room where morning cartoons were overly cheerful and why does every light need to be on? I was having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
Breakfast was made, baby was calmed, children were zoned out on “educational” programming.
Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad.
I was wrong. There came fevers and chills as I dressed to leave the house, they continued as I carried the baby, who suddenly weighed 50 lbs, coaxing the toddler to come down the stairs and praying my 4-year-old did not run in front of cars, strapping and buckling and driving and picking up and unbuckling and back up the stairs.
Returned home I made chicken nuggets for all because that’s all mommy has the strength for and talked to my mom because we all want our mommy when we’re sick and then put the kids down for a nap, and not. one. slept. Because it was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
That’s what it was, because by 3:30 PM all were awake and screaming and fighting and husband was still two hours from home and I didn’t know how much more I could take. I’ll pray for you mommy from my precious daughter was appreciated but all mommy wanted was a break.
Finally husband was home, and despite his hard day I got my break and breakfast for dinner and giggles on the bed with all four little squirming bodies and A says A-A-A-A-A-A-Alligator all the way to Y says Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Yellowtail because he hasn’t learned Z yet.
It turned out to be a pretty good day.