Maybe even a little good old fashioned TMI (don’t say I didn’t warn you.. leave NOW if it makes you squirm..) but this weekend has been a doosy!
Peyton has been battling a cold that leaves her hoarse (but it’s kinda cute) with a chafed nose-area, and me with a box of Kleenex as my newest appendage.
Every five minutes or so, I am needed to wipe the boogers that are “falling out” of her poor nose. I usually get to dab at tears (with a different Kleenex of course) that spill over her sick and tired little eyes onto those cheeks that are usually adorned with crusted streaky boogers that didn’t get wiped by the Kleenex in time. She cries because (well let’s just state the obvious here) she is tired and feels crappy!
All of this fun does not end at bedtime, oh no. It, like the tears and boogers on the cheeks, spill over into the nocturnal hours.
Poor Peyton isn’t the only one (besides me) who has been experiencing sleep disturbances. The older two have been plagued by bad dreams these past few nights. I am plagued by their waking me up, asking me what they should do. The answer is always the same..
(Pray that I can make it through the next day sleep deprived.)
(No, not really for that reason.)
That is just the best way to bring peace to your mind.
(A lesson I recently re-learned.)
I have personally been enjoying the throbbing, aching, sometimes stabbing pain of ovulation (warned you..). If you have not fully experienced this phenomena, just take my word for the uncomfortableness of the whole situation. It is a pain like nothing else.
I begged Merrill to take it away from me last night. He agreed to, until he knew just what that meant. I think my wagging eyebrows and grin gave me away.
(And I almost had him!!)
Merrill tried to convince me that he was experiencing a similar pain, “sympathy pains” I believe he called them.
I quickly corrected him.
“You could not EVER feel this. You have no ovaries, (helloooo Captain obvious!) and if you did feel this, you would beg ME to impregnate YOU.”
So, since I am currently out of Ibuprofen, I have been drinking children’s Ibuprofen like it is my life-source.
The only thing that is possibly more exciting than that would be Peyton, by my bedside for the second time last night, me, trying to wake up more fully, only to be jolted awake by the sound of urine, splashing into my carpet.
Good times ensued.
She thought morning for the both of us had arrived at 7:30 am.
I will not disclose just how many times I was woken in the night, or by whom.
Thank heavens it is a three day weekend.
Pee Ess: I am not whining, merely finding the humor in this series of events that are my life at the moment. I laughed pretty hard while proof-reading, until my ovaries begged me to stop, and I obliged.