Christmas Eve Eve

Somehow it's Christmas Eve. 

And whatdaya know; I'm blogging. 

Obviously things are 'as good as they're gonna get' this year.

I actually did better than I thought I'd do by this point... given the circumstances.

It started on Christmas Eve Eve.  Yes, the night before Christmas Eve.  As I climbed into bed it was one of those ultimate tired/super comfy/ I can only grunt to communicate types of exhausted. 

That should have been my first clue.

I didn't mention Molly's been fighting a mean fever since Monday afternoon and therefore has been as thirsty as an Anderson girl in July. 

At 10:18 I woke to, "Moooommmm, mooooooooooom!"

As I reach the girls' room, "Water" was declared.  That meant I had to go back downstairs to fill a glass, then back upstairs to deliver the glass, then back downstairs to go back to bed.  However, once I reached Molly with the water glass, Maisie decided she was thirsty too.  It was temping to use the same glass, but I knew it wouldn't be in my best interest given the germs marinating in Molly's system.

Fast forward to 11:22.  "Mooooooommmmm, mooooooooom!"

I reach the girls room again to discover Molly lost her 'nigh-nigh'.  As I feel around her bed in the dark, I locate the nigh-nigh next to her pillow. 

Ugggg.

Fast forward to 12: 06.  "Moooooommmmmm, mooooooooom!"

Now she's pissed the bed.  It's somehow gone through the rubber pad under the mattress pad and soaked the mattress. 

Again, ugggggg!

I return the our bed which suddenly smells like fart and try to fall back to sleep under a tunnel of clean air beside the comforter.  

Fast forward to 3:40.  "Mooooooooooom, moooooooom! 

"What?"  I holler.

"I'm barfing".

"Mike, your turn."

Ross was puking.  Of course Ross felt the need to re-hash every moment of the ordeal; out loud.  Mike asked how he was feeling and he replied, "I just wasn't expecting to puke tonight!" Turns out his biggest concern during the actual puking process was keeping the puke pieces off his teeth. 

Mike returns to bed and continues to fart... 'something from the depths', as he described it with a giggle.  I'm tired and pissed as this is the 3rd or 4th time this night our bedroom has smelled like stale shit.  As he goes in and out of silent-laughing hysterical mode, he had the nerve if I was proud of him for not 'fluffing' the covers.

Finally morning arrives and Molly's dry heaving.  She finally pukes in a bucket which Kuda quickly becomes obsessed with.

Yep, it's Christmas...Christmas with kids. 

As trying as it is, I know Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without them. 

And therefore, I think I'll keep 'em.

May gratitude always fill your hearts,
Heidi