For our anniversary, I gave husband a letter. The Dude threw up on him. I think he liked my present better.
This was after WonderGirl was down for the last few days with the puking, so we were prepared. Extra sheets on the bed for easier middle-of-the-night changing, an extra set of pajamas and blankets by the door, and we decided to take shifts sleeping on the futon in his room to catch the puking before he became a hopeless mess.
Husband took a successful shift until 3am (bless him!!) and then I tried. But I was lucky enough to have gotten the bug too, so I laid there wound up like a cat ready to pounce every time I heard a sneeze or an "uuuunnngghhh," trying to ignore the fact that my stomach actually sounded like someone was boiling a pot of water in my abdomen.
Around 4 something he got up and said he was done and was ready to wake up. Nuh-uh. So he tried another approach, a snuggle? Well, that at least would keep him quiet so the other household members sleep so I gave in, but it wasn't long before he was asking for water. And when I tried to leave him there and just get him some, he cried, so I got to heave his enormous carcass to the kitchen. THEN we got back in his room and he moaned sadly "I no want water, I want sauce." Applesauce. Really. At 4 in the morning?
Me: No sweetie, just drink some water.
Dude: NO WATER.
Me: SSSHHHHHHHHHH!! Just have a drink of water!
Dude: No, *crying* water yucky I want sauce may I please sauce??
Me: No, have water.
Me: SHHHHH water!
Me: SHHHHHHHHH WATER!
*Poor husband woke up to the yelling but I sent him back to bed. This conversation continues for another few minutes and then...*
Me: Just have some water.
Dude: *suddenly insanely cheerful* Alright! Okay! Water! sipsipsip yay water! Are you happy?
Me: ...uuunngggg... yes...
Dude: Sing Elmo's Song! May I please have cookie?
Somehow I managed to get up and get WG to school. Late, but that's no different than normal. We got home and I turned Sesame Street on, poured myself a bowl of cereal, and headed back to bed. But the Dude heard the sound of food packaging and came running, so I took pity on him and poured him a bowl, expecting him to take it back to the TV, but he carefully carried it to the table, crawled into his chair and said "May I please milk?" Ug, and those eyes. You've never seen a sweeter sight. I sat down at the table, poured his milk and he said "May I please have prayer?" and folded his arms. OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. I wanted to hate him for stealing all my sleep, but instead I sat there charmed to pieces and had breakfast with him while he yammered on about Elmo and cookies.
It was so blasted sweet, I HAD to get my camera, and at first sight of the camera he fled the scene. The expression you see on his face is the this-is-my-cue-to-skeedadle face.
I honestly don't know how I'm going to make it through the next few weeks. It would sure be nice to get a full night's sleep seeing as the rest of life is a big blurry mess, but given how everything else is going, I'm doubtful.
I'm going to go eat a cookie.