It Could Be a Lot Worse

I'm a little tired this morning. Shortly after I went to bed last night, Becca woke up screaming her head off. I went upstairs to check on her. When I picked her up she stopped crying instantly, but she was wide awake - I mean totally bug-eyed, looking all around, and generally acting like she'd just drank a Red Bull. I tried to nurse her, and she did nurse but with the same bug-eyed look, and all the while trying to shove her fingers up my nose. It took me about an hour to get her to finally go back to sleep.

This morning both she and Ben were up before 7. Ben I think woke up early to have extra time to convince me that he was still sick and needed to stay home a second day: "I have a fever! See? My forehead is so cold!" ("You're supposed to be hot when you have a fever." "Oh.") And, a little later: "Mommy I think I need to stay home today. I feel like I am going to throw up." (Five minutes later he was jumping off the couch with arms outspread in a vain attempt to fly like Superman, so I am pretty sure he'll live).

When I finally got them both packed off to day care and camp, I stopped for my morning coffee fix. I complained to the girl behind the counter (who knows both kids and asks about them regularly) about Becca's late night interlude and early morning awakening, hoping for some sympathy. "Yeah I know" she said, not sounding all that sympathetic. "I have five kids, and they were all running around at midnight last night, and I have to get up for work at four."

Suddenly I didn't feel all that sorry for myself anymore.