Parenting, day 7... or, Sleep? Who needs sleep?

Important parenting tip: When you're sick with a cold, you mope a bit, beg your significant other to make you some chicken soup, and stay in bed. When your child is sick, They scream their freaking head off at the inconvenience of having to breathe through their mouth.

Pint Size is sick with a head cold. It wouldn't have been so bad had we realized this before we put him to bed last night... You see, I think he probably could have dealt with the whole "breathe through the mouth" thing, but having his nose clogged meant he couldn't drink out of his bottle easily, which meant he was not only sick, but hungry.

Yeah, at that point, I'd be screaming about it too. It was an ugly cycle. He'd cry, I'd get up and give him his bottle and sing to him a little (the kid loves my Barry Manilow medly... don't tell Silverfox.) Short Stuff would wake up from the noise, complaining that his brother is being bad, and demand to watch another cartoon of two, which would finally put him back to sleep. Pint Size would act content till I left the room, then chuck the bottle from his bunk, and start crying again cry again... I'd come in and get him his bottle, Short Stuff would wake up again, and the whole thing would go round and round like that. By the fifth time, I woke Silverfox.

"Pint Size won't sleep, and I've tried everything I know..." (admittedly not much... but there are only so many times I can sing 'Mandy'.) "I'd rather not be up all night playing fetch while he cries."

"Welcome to being a parent, Rob." She said, shuffling her way to the kids' room, "learn to love caffeine and B12."

I flopped into bed, exhausted, but could hear on the baby monitor that Silverfox wasn't having much more luck than I was. Finally, she brought him into our room so he wouldn't wake Short Stuff again.

Now, I have slept under some extreme circumstances... I've fallen asleep on the number 1 train, completely missing the turn at south ferry. I've nodded off in a stadium full of screaming fans rabid for Eric Clapton. I've slept through hurricanes, noreasters, nearby locomotives, and plane rides. None of them had anything on Pint Size's fit last night. Silverfox brought him to day care about an hour before I was supposed to wake up. I dozed off for ten minutes before Short Stuff came into my room complaining his room was too scary to turn on his video game, and he was also fairly certain it was almost time for school.

(Sigh)