First it's Jeffrey, who protests sleeping in his crib every night. He doesn't go down without a fight, but I suppose his own self perpetuated weariness does him in. For a little while.
11:51 PM. Jeffrey wakes up crying. I haven't been sleeping long enough not to care and let him climb out of the crib and come downstairs to climb into bed with us, so I head upstairs to set him straight. A hug, a few words, him crying in protest, and finally he lies back down. I stay a few minutes, rubbing his back, until I know I can safely leave without him.
1:13 AM. Somebody comes downstairs and into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. I get up to check, and eventually Joey emerges, teary-eyed, telling me he's sick and that his belly hurts. "Do you think you're hungry and need something to eat?" I ask him. "Yeah." I offer him a banana, because that's what monkeys like to eat, right? We head back upstairs and he has downed the banana in less than 4 minutes. His belly still hurts, but I assure him it will start to feel better. I'm silently cursing myself for not giving him the ice cream he asked for the night before, because he was misbehaving. I'll have to come up with some other form of punishment. They are tiny little things, my monkeys. Who am I to deprive them of food?
I lie with him for a while, but the longing to be in my own bed motivates me to get up and head back downstairs. His belly still hurts, but he asks if I will come back up in a few minutes to check on him. "Sure," I lie to him. "I'll come back up in a little bit." Not if I can help it. I cover Jeffrey with his covers before heading back to bed.
1:52 AM. I must have been sleeping pretty well, because I didn't hear Jeffrey make his way downstairs. I'm too tired to care. He gets to be the monkey in the middle.
2:25 AM. Joey is back downstairs. I guess I can't blame him since I never went back upstairs. He tells me his belly still hurts more. "Do you feel like you're going to be sick?" I ask him. "No." Okay, then perhaps he'd like to sleep in our bed. I move over and he climbs in. I know by now the night is shot and whatever sleep I get until daylight will be minimal, so why not indulge him?
3:32 AM. Hell, I don't know, I don't remember. Sometime later, when it is still too early to get up, Christopher appears at my bedside. His stomach hurts. Wait a minute, didn't I just go through this with somebody? "Are you hungry?" I ask him. He tells me he isn't, just that his stomach hurts and he feels like he's going to be sick.
I get a large bowl out of the cabinet and we head back upstairs. I give him instructions to use it if he needs to and tuck him back in. Perhaps I'll sleep better in Joey's bed without him, so I climb in. I think. It's all a blur. At any rate, it's a bust and I head back downstairs to my own bed.
5:22 AM. Christopher is back, still not feeling well. He wants to know if he can sleep with me. "Isn't it time for you to get up?" I ask G. We need the room on the bed.
Everybody gets situated in bed, although we are waking up now. Jeffrey keeps asking where daddy is and I keep telling him to go back to sleep. But it's no use. My mind wants me to sleep, but my body is waking up. The boys are fidgety. Joey is whining because Jeffrey is kicking him. I finally take Jeffrey and go into the living room. Jeffrey doesn't want to, but I am not in the mood to argue with him and if he wants to scream, so be it. I have had enough. He finally relents and lies down with me, or I should say, on me. Apparently his little body is waking up too and he isn't as eager as I am to try to go back to sleep. I let him poke and prod at my face until he pulls the blanket off me. I draw the line there. I'm tired and cold and yes, it's nearly the middle of May, but it has been rainy and damp for the last couple of days and we'll be damned if we are turning the heat back on in the house. I need that blanket. I tell Jeffrey to go away, that I'm sleeping and he whines and protests. I finally give up, head back to my own bed. I will still have to deal with his background noise, but at least I'll be more comfortable in my own bed.
I'm feeling a small sense of calmness, for at least gaining a little bit of rest, which is better than not
hing at this point. Next to me, Joey starts to vomit. He left the bowl I had given him upstairs, so he's vomiting on the floor. I jump up, grab another bowl and a towel to clean up. It is just dry heaves, and over quickly. I'm convinced he is hungry, and the same condition applies to Christopher. He heads upstairs, apparently realizing he'll sleep better in his own bed, too, and I climb back into bed, whose sheets I will launder today. By now, the whole house is up, and just to be sure I don't get any more rest, the phone rings. It is my neighbor across the street, asking if I'd watch the girls after school today, something had just come up last minute. After I insist that I would and it would not be a problem, despite the cold I was fighting, I hang up and lie there, eyes burning. It's no use. I won't get anymore sleep until day's end.
Christopher is back at my bedside. His stomach still hurts. I make him waffles and intermittently keep reminding Tommy to be quiet because Jeffrey was sleeping. Who could blame him? It had been a rough night for the poor little fellow. It's best to let him sleep while he can.
8:26 AM. Where's my coffee?
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