I am probably more sleep deprived now, at this moment, than I have been since I started this whole process of having kids. And that includes the night I went into labor at 11:30pm and was then up all night and most of the next morning actually HAVING a baby.

You see, Nicholas is sick. If you read my last post then you know this already, and you know Thursday night I was up cleaning puky sheets and such. I actually didn't even TRY to spend Friday night in my own bed - I decided to put Nathan in the crib, and to keep watch over them both from the rocking chair. I slept a bit, but mostly I was either nursing Nate or trying to sooth Nick. I ended up in bed with him, his hot hands pressed against my face.

Steve took the kids yesterday morning, so I got a couple of hours of sleep. Sleep so deep that I missed my parents leaving, the doorbell ringing, and when I woke up I felt as though it had been two minutes as opposed to two hours. But since Nick was sick and crying, and since I really did need to feed Nate, I got up.

And then there was last night. After wrestling with NIik to get him to swallow cough syrup and tucking him in, he pretty much passed out. I was excited. I could put Nate in the crib and sleep in my own wam bed...
Well...
Nate can sleep in the crib. And sometimes he does. Last night, for example, he did. But only while I was standing right over him.
That's right. I'd nurse him, he'd fall asleep, I would place him in his crib. He wouldn't move. I'd check on Nick, walk down the hall to my bedroom and crawl into the warm covers... and the screaming would begin. I would pull myself out of the bed, stagger back up the hall and hurdle the baby gate to the boys' room... and there Nate would be, in the crib, crying. Until I got within five feet. Then he would mysteriously fall still, asleep and calm.
This happened about fifty times last night.

Nick woke up at 4:30am, probably because we'd put him to bed at 5pm and also because Nate was screaming. I tried climbing into bed with him again, to clam him down and get a few more minutes. He agreed, but he did manage to get every single ball he owns into the bed with us, and he kept trying to bounce them off my head as I tried to sleep. He also poked my nose, pulled on my hair, and tried chewing my sweatshirt.

I finally gave up and turned on the light at 5:30. I am very, very tired. So tired I can't even remember what I've written or why this post is so long. But I'm posting it anyway.