Friday morning my son decided he did not want to eat his bowl of Fruity Pebbles(sans milk) or his Fizzix yogurt. Okay, okay I say, you will not get any popcorn at the movie! At the movie theater, dear son did in fact get his very buttered, very salted popcorn AND a very salty pretzel. He was not hungry for lunch after the movie, obviously! As an afternoon snack I could not convince him to eat an apple. Instead he ate half a bag of BBQ chips! At dinner, he was not hungry . . . again, so obvious, how could I not figure this out? Would you be hungry after all that crap?

Around 7 PM he finally ate some chicken fingers, baked. I tucked him in bed at 9 PM and he was sleeping soundly at 9:05 PM. At 10:30 PM my beautiful son was by my side at the computer . . . asking for water and telling me his tummy hurt. I took him to the bathroom and we sat for about 5 minutes. Nothing! I gave him a bit of Tylenol and some Tummy Aches. He tooted and felt so much better. (Phew I think, maybe I will get some sleep tonight) Back to my bed he goes.

I went to bed around 11:30 PM and at midnight I heard his panting . . . this is the key sound . . . I point to the bathroom and he is off running. We are up and down and in and out for a couple of hours. At 2:30 AM, my husband vacated our room in a huff and went to son's empty bed. (lucky bastard)

Around 3 AM, after I have not had ANY SLEEP YET . . . and after changing my son's pajamas for the third time AND after listening to my son puke and dry heave for the past three hours all the while trying to help my son WHO is shouting at me and slapping at me . . . I was getting a bit irritated! I brought dear son his pillow and a blanket and told him to stay there. I went back to bed (oh yes I did and you would too). I only lasted about 10 minutes before he came running to me, heavy panting and all. I hop back out of my nice warm bed, put my robe on again and trot to the toilet to assist dear son again while he pukes his guts and/or brains out. This time is the worst as he drank a ton a water since the last time. He stands up shouting at me that he can't breathe . . . I am trying to help him and gently tell him that he is breathing and to calm down . . . poor kid! I get him all cleaned up and washed and brushed again. Tuck him back into my bed with a wet cloth on his head and HOPE beyond all hopes that he will finally pass out cold for the remainder of the morning. BECAUSE IT IS NOW 4 AM!!!!!!!

Amazingly enough baby girl has been slumbering away soundly in between my son and I through all of this. I thought I might wake at my usual 7 AM . . . my daughter is my personal alarm clock. She comes in and taps on my eyelids and whispers to me every morning "can I play on the computer". Instead I woke at 8:55 AM!! Holy Smokes! I don't think I have slept this late in, well, frankly, I can't even remember it has been that long.

I stumbled downstairs and my husband asks me, "were you up all night with him?" and I replied, "well, isn't that why you left?" and he started to laugh and I then said, "Why Am I The Only One Ever On Vomit Duty?"

Rinse

Repeat on Sat night . . . but not as bad.