Since I'm up....

It's around 4:30 in the morning and I've been up since 1:30 and it doesn't look like I'm going to bed anytime soon so...

why not blog, right?

I woke up at 8:00 am on Saturday morning.  Adding a 5th person to our family makes schedules even tighter and we had to get out of the house in order to get to 10 am soccer.  Then it was 11 am soccer.  Then it was soccer pictures.  Then we had to feed the baby at the soccer field because he slept through all the games and his scheduled feeding time.  Then we had to change the blow-out post bottle diaper in the parking lot before we could head home.

Once home, the day got even busier than the previous three hours and we were pretty much swimming in a little bit of chaos and gassy baby for the rest of the afternoon.  I'm amazed my husband even got to the grocery store.

The evening was spent at my parents house - the boys and I hanging out and Ross going to Priesthood session of conference with my dad and brother.  When it was finally time to come home, Elliott decided that his stomach hurt.

"Do you need to poop or throw up?"

"It just hurts".

We drove home and he fell asleep before we were 5 minutes from my parents house.  You know where this is going, right?

Maybe the title of the post should be:  Why in the holy freakin' crap do kids get sick at night when it's dark and everyone is so tired?

We got all the boys to bed.  Ross and I finished our nightly rituals and routines and found ourselves climbing into bed around 11 pm and crashing immediately.

From 11 pm to 1 am, Wyatt woke up twice, one of the times Ross found him sitting on the floor by his bed, because he couldn't find his blankets.  At 1 am, I got up to check my blood sugar and spend some time with my "lactation station", my new nightly ritual.  Ross was with Elliott because he too had gotten up complaining that his tummy hurt.

As I was about to head upstairs I heard a scream for, "DAD!", and "Elliott, Nooooooo!" and then a sound that was, you know, that sound.  The sound of puke hitting the floor, not the toilet, from the body of a terrified 5 year old.  Dad got him to the sink before the next hurl and I ran back downstairs for some resolve (the carpet cleaning kind) and towels.

Since that time, around 2:00 am, that kid has puked 3 more times.  The baby has woken up.  I'm visiting my "lactation station" again, and everyone in this house, except Wyatt whose set to wake up in about an hour, ready for the day, is completely exhausted.

Remind me why I have kids again?

Oh yeah, they are cute and fun when they aren't puking at the top of the stairs.