I don't know why, but something woke me up at about 5:30 this morning. And, seeing as how I have a 45-year-old bladder (that's suffered the abuse through three pregnancies), whenever I am awake enough, well... a visit to the restroom is HIGH on the agenda!
I lay there for awhile, hoping the urge would pass. No such luck. So, I crept up out of bed, hoping not to wake my little one, who, due to some small miracle, had slept through the night. Poor thing -- she's been suffering through some TERRIBLE dreams, which wake her up in such a fright. I was thrilled when I looked at the clock and realized she'd slept through.
I was in the bathroom, washing up, when I heard this obnoxious, blood curdling scream coming from outside the door. It was loud enough to wake my oldest daughter, who was sleeping in her room on the second floor! I bolted out of the bathroom and met my little one in the little hallway that connects my kitchen, dining room, my bedroom and hers. She was crying her fool head off, screaming at the top of her lungs, and making a beeline towards me.
She practically jumped into my arms, and was shaking like a leaf. I held her tightly, rubbing her back and asking her what was wrong. She told me what I'd feared.... that she had a bad dream; monsters were chasing her.
Since we're still dealing with the remnants of Hurricane Kyle here on the East coast, and since it was still before 6 a.m., it was pitch black outside. I brought her into my room with me, and laid her down on the bed between my (still sleeping) husband and me. She clung to me, saying she wanted me to stay with her. I did until the alarm went off -- then I had to go wake up my son for school. This job is normally done by my husband (who's much more of a morning person than I, and doesn't mind waking up at 6:00 as much), but I figured, since I was now wide awake, that I would just go wake him, and leave my husband to snooze a bit longer.
My son wasn't feeling so great last night -- I think he caught the stomach crud I'd had earlier last week. He went to bed with a headache and an upset stomach -- and an old bowl, to put beside his bed (which was thankfully empty when I went to wake him up this morning!). After letting him wake up a bit, I asked him how he felt, and he said "a little bit better". But, after attempting to take a few bites of his morning cereal, he confessed that he still felt just as sick as he felt last night.
I ordered him back up to bed, and called the absence line at his school. Hopefully, he won't have too much homework to make up today. And, I hope even more that he won't be sick for his birthday (tomorrow). That would be the PITS.
I came back from the grocery store a little while ago, and he said he'd taken some Pepto Bismol, and had two pieces of dry toast, and his stomach was starting to feel a bit better. Hopefully, that's a good sign. I know the crap I had only lasted 48 hours. Let's hope the same is true of him.
Needless to say, I'm a tired Mama today. Miss S. is obviously a bit worn down today, too. Maybe, after I come back from picking R. up at school, I'll give S. a nice warm bath and (hopefully) get her to lie down with me. A little snooze might do us both some good.
Wish me luck.