What a night.
First, Ali decided she needed, not one, not two, but three bottles last night. Sigh. Then as I made my way downstairs to make a bottle, my ears heard a TV blaring the Pink Panter. As I went to check it out.....it happened... the stench no mother wants to smell at 3:44am. The smell of puke. That's right, my first born, the apple of my eye, had gotten up tried to make it to the bathroom, but took the looooooooong way and puked all over the living room floor. And there he was, happy as can be watching the Pink Panther, which I am sure the neighbors could also hear. I should have known this would happen. You see, the boys spent sometime with their grandparents yesterday, and Nanoo, in particular, feeds them like kings instead of princes, and more often than not, one ends up puking after visiting. Anyhow, when questioned why he didn't go through his room to the bathroom. (Because being the best parents in the world, once he fell asleep on the couch, we weren't going to wake him in fear of him staying up for round 2) he innocently said, "I couldn't go that way, I would have woke-ed Pawka up." So I make a bottle, but didn't add the formula since I was groggy, and I thought my charming husband would check, and called Sam to get it and give it to Ali so she wouldn't scream the whole time I cleaned up. Finally after getting everything cleaned up and Landon back settled, I trek back upstairs to get back bed and I see Ali is still eating...but wait.... it looks empty, so I pick up the bottle, and Sam didn't add formula. Yep, we are great parents. I see she has 3 ounces left and add one and a halfish scoops, and she chugs it down. Ahhhh, sleepy time. Not for long. *BEEP BEEP BEEP* Sam's alarm went off. After I said a few choice words in my half asleep daze, he left for work, and I went back to sleep, sort of, for another hour or two. I am tired. Tired. Tired. It is going to be a long day. *sigh*
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