Foiled!

Dan is in England this week. This is the first time he has left me for a long time with both kids and it hasn't sent me into an immediate hyperventilating panic, wondering how many hours it would be before I called my mom begging for her to drive up and help me. Because the kids are getting older, and easier!

Our weekend went great - by Sunday night I was exhausted but proud of myself for keeping up with laundry/dishes/meals/bath/bed/trash cans/holy-moly-there-is-a-lot-of-chores. But we were doing it! And everyone was happy, including mama!

I should have known it was too good to be true.

Last night in the middle of the night Elliott woke up having vomited all over himself and his bedding. YUCK. He went through the stages of recovery while I changed his clothes, washed his face, and changed his bedding:

1. Crying because he threw up and felt miserable
2. Yelling because I turned the light on and took off all his clothes
3. Screaming because I wouldn't pick him up while I was changing his crib bedding
4. Complete distraction at the sight of his favorite book - Good Night, Moon! I LOVE Good Night, Moon! Can we read it now?
5. Nursing and rocking back to sleep
6. Sleep

7. REPEAT.

Okay, Daddy, come home already!