The Joys of Parenthood

My brother is still here visiting, and he swears he loves my kids. He also swears his conviction to NEVER have any of his own is a lot more... um... convicted?? He has yet to encounter a part of the parenting process that he'd like to do full time. The whining? He'll be glad to be rid of that when he leaves. The poopy diapers? Yeah. Need I say more about that? Then, there's the incredibly fun FUN we had last night.

The little ones are both complaining of earaches these days. I've got an appointment this afternoon to deal with that, but till then, the whine continues on. That's not the worst of it, though. Last night, little Lambchop #2 awoke and ended up being shifted over to Mommy and Daddy's bed. It happens. We're used to that. What we're not used to is the piercing scream a couple hours later (at 4 am, for those who are interested in the details) followed by a coughing fit so violent it induced vomiting. This is where it comes in handy that Mommy is still not fully organized. A couple weeks ago when Lambchop #1 had the flu, and the allergic reaction she had to Advil seemed to have caused her to lose her lunch, we brought a large metal bowl to the bedroom. There it has remained, all clean and shiny from disuse, taunting me to bring it back to its real home. Last night, though, coupled with my quick thinking, it saved us from having to completely change the sheets. The episode did, however, force me to get up and get a wet cloth to clean little Lambchop (Daddy kindly disposed of last night's dinner, because I just couldn't stomach that part).

Amidst all of this commotion, I heard a muffled groan from the futon in the livingroom. See, my brother cherishes his sleep. So, yeah, maybe parenting's not for him, afterall. Because last night's excitement definitely left me feeling like I was beaten in my sleep. No bruises, though, so I guess not.