“But I’m not tired Mummy” he says, as he snuggles into my lap and tucks his head under my chin. His fingers twine through my hair as he breathes a contented sigh. “I’m weally weally not bery tired”.
I’ve been trying to convince him to have a small sleep. We were up until 3.30am together, with Isaac vomiting every ten minutes to begin with, before easing to every 25 minutes. By the end of it, we were both exhausted. He fell asleep between vomits and I watched him carefully, to make sure he didn’t choke. He only tried to once.
By 3.30, I took us both to my bed, as Nathan prepared to sleep on the couch. With buckets and towels at the ready, I prepared for waking every half an hour, but his body had had enough and he fell asleep deeply enough to stop the retching.
***
It was 10.30pm and I was just falling asleep when I heard Isaac start to cry, before that distinctive cough that heralds a child about to throw up. I was up and moving before I realised it, in his bedroom just as he started to throw up.
Pulling him out of his bed, I rubbed his back while he threw up on our feet.
This is parenting, I thought.
This is the reality. I could have told the story about a sick child and the snuggling this morning, but instead I’m telling you that vomit on your feet when you’d rather be sleeping is what parenting has in store for us all.
***
At 7am Isaac’s eyes flew open and I cursed his body clock that would wake him up (wake us up) so early after such a rotten night. I got him a drink of water and turned on cartoons, before stroking his back and falling back asleep.
20 minutes later Amy was in the bedroom with us as well, bright eyed and bushy tailed. Figuratively of course, I was too busy hiding my head under a pillow to check the actual bushiness of her tail.
I debated sending her to school, before deciding that it was too much work. Not to mention a risky endeavour – if she’s going to catch this bug, I want her safely with us where we can keep an eye on her, rather than vomiting all over the front row of the classroom, like a friend of mine did in year 1.
We stayed in bed for as long as possible, but sleeping in is a whole different ball game when you’ve got two children in bed with you, kicking each other and crying.
***
It was not a pleasant night, but you don’t sign up for parenting without expecting to be thrown up on at some point.
And as Isaac tucked himself under my chin for a snuggle this morning, I decided that it’s the bad bits that make you appreciate the good.
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