I did not sleep last night. Not even joking, or exaggerating. I have three-month old twins who eat twice a night. We don’t tandem nurse (tried it a couple of times; everyone hated it). Plus one twin has a stuffy nose requiring saline solution and nose frida-ing prior to each feeding (if you don’t know what that is don’t even talk to me).
The three-year-old is often the lower maintenance sibling at night, but not last night. What was a cold with a low grade temp turned in to a full-blown conjunctivitis with pus (i.e. snot coming out his eyes), blisters in the mouth, wailing, crying, sniffling disaster starting at about 11 pm.
After having to get up for about the third or fourth time in so many hours, I finally gave up and invited the three-year-old into our bed. That lasted about 45 minutes. As soon as he started doing cartwheels into my husband’s face, I picked him up and carried him back to his own room.
Finally, around 5 AM we figured out the right dosage of Tylenol mixed with Advil to knock him out for a couple of hours. Of course, the twins woke up to nurse again around that same time.
I like to remind my husband at times like these that this is all his fault because I only ever wanted one kid anyway. The fact that he still finds this a funny thing to say is probably the best sign that we’re going to make it through.