I got home at 11:30 tonight and settled into my quiet routine of reading blogs and ruminating on the day. I was catching up on blogs alphabetically and somewhere between Peace Of My Mind and Running Into A Brick Wall, I heard Ari crying from her room. I rushed down the hallway to console her - a bad dream maybe? - and found her lying on her back, sobbing, with vomit running down her cheek. (I know.)
I scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom to clean her up. Almost two years old and feeling miserable, she looked up at me and trusted that I would help her feel better. By now, her mom was up and changing her bedsheets. Teamwork in parenting, it was after midnight and a baby was being bathed and sheets and blankets were being laundered. All was well, the baby was settled back in her bed and the parental units went back to where they needed to be - one back to sleep in preparation for the early morning alarm clock, the other back to the living room to wind down from a long work shift just concluded.
Ten minutes later, she was crying again and lying in a bed once more made a mess. We were back to our loving, caring duties and this time gave her some medicine for her upset stomach. With crossed fingers, we put her back to bed and hoped for the best.
Not even the medicine would stay down. And now, a few sessions later, I sit on the couch with my little girl by my side. Her brother is wide awake in his room thinking I don't hear him playing with his cars. She is wide awake and holding her babydoll. It's a restless night here at Chez Bez.
And tomorrow is going to be a long, sleepy day.