Well, that perfect good night's sleep didn't happen exactly. (And before you consider go on reading: This is 100% rambling. Stumbling words, not-at-all-edited thoughts from a working from home mom, single parenting at the moment, and having evil viruses around the house.)
About last night: First, I couldn't sleep right away, my thoughts just wouldn't shut up, and then, when I finally was sound asleep, my 4-year-old woke me up, wanting to move into my bed. Well, we got all his "things" (Stuffed tiger, stuffed lion, stuffed dog, blankets, sippy cup of water etc.), and he went back to breathing peacefully, nestled close by me. I had to go to the bathroom, and then, I had a hard time sleeping again, until finally I was in Dream Land. Not for long, though, because my 8-year-old suddenly stood by my bed murmuring that she just had a bad dream. Needed some comforting before being able to calm down. This happened once more, and then, suddenly, I realized my alarm clock would go off in ten minutes. It was time to get up for the day, and I hadn't really slept much at all...
My 8-year-old still had a fever, so I kept her home for the 2nd day in a row, something that has never happened (because of sickness, that is, we have taken her out of school a lot because of traveling...) since she started school 2 1/2 years ago. I intended on keeping her in bed most of the day, so that I could get some work done. Well, she switched back and forth between her bed, where she read books, and the livingroom coach, watching Toy Story II and Animal Planet.
My 12-year-old impressed me. After fiishing breakfast really quick, he sat down for half an hour preparing for an English test, then he practiced the piano for ten minutes, and left the house with plenty of margin to be at school on time. My 15-year-old left shortly after, she had a mid-term today, and was rather stressed out because of it. Then, there was the big Calm descending on my kitchen. My sick 8-year-old sat there, not talking, trying to eat a little. Then my 4-year-old showed up, sleepy, wanting to have breakfast too. I had my 2nd cup of coffee, and decided not to rush him to daycare. We would just take our time, and then walk to to the daycare center when he was ready.
Not. My eldest called. She had missed her bus, and now she was in serious trouble. I realized I had to drive, and in a few instants I was able to get dressed, making my son finish his breakfast, pack his bag and lay out clothes for him so that his big sister could help him get dressed while I got everything together and simultaneously called my daughter's school to inform them that she would be late and beg them to let her take her midterm anyway.
We made it ok, but I can't exactly say that there was a warm and fuzzy atmosphere in the car this morning. Then, arriving at the daycare center, I realized I had forgotten my son's bag at home...
In the end I was back home, checked on my sick child, made her drink some more juice, and got started on my work.
My 8-year-old is still sick, by the way, and I should really get to bed now. Good night.