Stayed up and did something I haven’t done for such a long time … watched a growed up persons DVD with the Grumpy One!
We had popcorn and wine and snuggled up on the couch, only having to tell Monkey Boy three times to go back to bed and that he wasn’t watching Inglourious Basterds with us. Nor was he having any of our popcorn.
By the time we had the movie on, it was quite late when it finished. Godzilla, still not well by bedtime, had climbed into our bed to sleep (something about a parents bed that provides comfort to sick kids, even when said parents aren’t in it) so Grumpy went and slept in his bed.
I actually think this is more to do with the waking hour of Chippie – it is an unwritten law that the person sleeping closest has to get up. Or if Grumpy is in bed with me, I kick him and make him get up. If Grumpy sleeps in the kids’ room, I have to get up to kick him.
So, there it was, Godzilla in the big bed with me, and Grumpy in Godzilla’s bed, beside Monkey Boy … who came in at 4am, whimpering and complaining of not feeling well, very hot and telling me he had vomited. Unsure why he was unable to inform his father, sleeping in the next bed, of this, and possibly due to severe lack of sleep and fatigue, I let him climb into bed with me.
An hour or so later, I hear Chippie crying, but use the severe lack of sleep and extreme fatigue excuse, and let Grumpy hop up and deal with it. Besides, I was trapped in what now appeared to be a sauna, with two feverish boys lying almost on top of me.
I drifted back into a fitful sleep, only to be woken not long after by a soccer ball to the head. Chippie had got out from wherever he had been, and, having free reign of the house, got bored and entertained himsef with a soccer ball and my face.
Fatigue, for me, kicked in around lunchtime, two older boys listless and hot, toddler hyped up and climbing on the dining table, and Grumpy totally unable to understand why I was tired; having slept through the vomiting 9 year old and the soccer ball throwing toddler.