I just realized how long it's been since I last posted (my how time just flies by when you have kids) and I do apologize for my absence. Having a sick little one tends to make the days meld together and before you know it, it's been almost two weeks since you spent anytime connecting with people.
So, in an attempt to rectify that, and to get a bunch of stuff out of my little red notebook and onto the interweb, I am trying (somewhat successfully) to finish up some posts and get them ready for you, oh wonderful readers.
As some of you may already know, Little P has had bronchitis, which has essentially lead us to being somewhat housebound for about 10 days or so. Partly because she's been sick (and I didn't want to spread it around) and partly because sick baby usually equals sleepless nights for Momma, so I haven't been my usual social butterfly self (actually, if I'm brutally honest, it's because I had a hard enough time dragging myself out to get the mail, let alone going out and being social).
It's funny - I know when I'm sick, the house tends to be the last of my priorities (laundry piles up, the floors go unswept and unmopped, and if we didn't have a dishwasher I shudder to think how many dishes would go unwashed). But who knew that when your little one is sick for an extended period of time, the same thing happens? I spent most of my days soothing Little P (and trying, sometimes successfully, but most times not, to get her to take her medicine), rocking her to sleep, trying to get her to eat and drink and just keeping her entertained and happy. By the end of each day, I was physically and mentally beaten up - I'd be in bed by 8pm (which is even early for me), only to be awake again around 2am because Little P was crying. I'd give her something to drink, change her diaper and then rock her to sleep, before dragging myself back to bed.
It all came to a head the other day, when after a particularly long day (and not a very long nap) Little P went down okay for the night, I crawled into to bed and promptly passed out and M sat up for a little while to keep an eye on Little P and to give me a chance to sleep. At 2am, I heard her stirring, and then she yelled 'Little P's turn!', scaring the crap out of me. I run into her room, and she's lying down whimpering (I figure she had a bad dream), but she's still asleep. I go to leave the room and she says 'Mommy?' Bugger. I go over and pick her up, in the vain attempt to be able to soothe her enough so she will go back to sleep. Not a chance. She wants something to drink - but insists on being held while drinking it. Slowly starts to go back to sleep, I attempt to transfer back into her crib, feel like I'm successful, step back and then she goes 'Mommy!'. *sigh* It's gonna be one of those nights.
So, from 2am till 5am, she's in my arms - any attempt by me to get her into her crib results in her doing a death grip on my arms and saying 'no, no'. At 5am she's wide awake and ready to play. At that point I knew it was a lost cause, so I filled up the coffee pot and prepared for it to be a really long day.
Four cups of coffee later and we are off to the park, hoping to get her to wear herself out, and for me to be somewhat social. She does surprising well, playing with the other kids and keeping herself entertained. I on the other hand, feel like the walking dead, even after that amount of caffeine is in my system (I feel that after the second cup, it's kind of a reflex action - no more coffee is going to help). We last till around 11am, when I can tell she's staring to hit meltdown mode, so home we go (hoping that she'll fall asleep in the car - no such luck). Around 1pm she's still not ready to nap, but I'm fading fast, so I get her some milk, put her in her crib and tell her 'Nap time'. She appears to go down without a fight, I go into our bedroom, only to have her start crying. 'I'll let her cry it out' says I. Yup - not gonna happen. After five minutes, I cave, go in, pick her up and straight away she starts to become 'floppy baby'. Okay, this might be easier than I thought. I rock her for a little while, go to put her in her crib and I hear 'Mommy rock.' Okay, in the rocker we go, she starts to really drift off - and so do I. I awake about 10 minutes later with a sore neck, but a passed out little one. Success! Put her in her crib, crawl into my bed and promptly pass out for a solid two hours.
I know it's going to take her a little while to get back into the swing of things, and I have no doubt that she's going to want to be rocked to sleep for a couple more days, but I feel that the worst of it is over. My floors have been swept and mopped, I'm actually pretty up to date with the laundry and I have even managed to knock out a couple of crafts. Here's hoping that we will be back into the swing of things soon and that life will return to normal (or as normal as it gets around here).
Till next time, well, you know the drill. I'm too tired to be witty.