... the idea of that cake has had me laughing for about 4 days, so I had to do it.
Saturday night, Ailsa went to bed (after vomiting her entire day's worth of food as well as two large men's) with a high fever. How high, I don't know, because I am not about to get an "accurate" read on a baby, if you know what I mean. I put the thermometer under her arm, and it registered 101, which means it was at least that. Woo. Tylenol, fluids, fluids, fluids.
And not much sleep for either of us, again.
Mother's Day morning was fine. My gift to myself was a full day of disposable diapers! Yaaaay! Vaughn requested toast, so we all had a nice breakfast, and Ailsa, though a little dopey (and sneezy and sleepy and grumpy), managed to put away half a piece of raisin toast as well as her cereal and banana. Well.
While she was "napping" (much like her "sleeping", it involves brief stretches of unconsciousness, with intervals of coughing followed by screaming in indignation and anger that she feels so lousy) (she gets that from her father), Vaughn and I went head to head a few times, with him ending up sobbing, "I want to be a good boy, Mommy." Rrrrr...he knows what to say, that's for sure.
We packed snacks, headed out to Walmart, and I noted that Ailsa, though still cute, now sort of looks like E.T. at the end of the movie, when he's all pale and sickly. It's those big eyes, or something. Anyhoo, I had decided that we'd have a nice lunch somewhere. The lineup at Cora's was crazy (this was at 12:30), so we headed to Swiss Chalet.
The kids were absolutely angelic, and Vaughn was true to his word. He ordered his lunch from the pictures on the kids' menu, and was a perfect gentleman. Well, except for the repeated attempts to drink his dip or eat it with a spoon. Anyhoo. Ailsa ate shared bits from my plate, and was wan, but cheerful. Despite having the best-behaved children in the whole chalet, I could tell that the waitstaff felt a bit sorry for me, especially when I ordered myself a glass of wine. Hey, it was after noon.
The rest of the day was pretty good; they played well together, my 20-minute nap was enjoyable (kaff), dinner wasn't bad (Ailsa wasn't really into my gourmet baked-chicken-with-salsa-and-cheese and steamed peppers, but ate her baked potato and a bunch of pineapple), and the cake was a hit with the Vaughnster. He even got to eat a flower!
Bathtime was as fun as always, with added bubbles for excitement. Ailsa was thrown into bed immediately, and was quiet for almost 20 minutes before the screaming re-started, leaving me with the dilemna: screaming child calms down when I put my hand on her, but then I can't fold laundry/do the dishes/take out the garbage/recycling/green bin/compost/eat more cake.
This has been a really rough week. After Thursday night's ER visit, and no more than a few hours of continuous sleep every night and a maximum of 20 minutes of a nap since, I'm totally falling apart. I'm tired. I'm cranky. I'm trying hard to be a good mom, but I really don't feel like it. I'm sick of the screaming and crying, the snot and vomit and poop, the constant battles with a two-year-old.
But Ailsa is still delightful and has a few new tricks (will post later) and Vaughn is incredible, when he's not being a stinker. He got a handful of skittles as his treat after lunch, and he held one up and told me it didn't have an "s" on it. WHAT THE...??? This afternoon, he took his rubber boots and tried to blow them up, just to make Ailsa laugh. They ARE really great kids, and just love each other, and me, so much, but I need a break.
Cake for breakfast? Yes please!