Anyways - the surprise was not that he woke up in the middle of the night, or that I spent a lot of time rocking him back to sleep and feeling him want to sleep deeply in my arms. The surprise was that he woke up at 4:30am and began screaming about how he wanted some milk, or some juice or some ice cold water. He's already funny in his crib, hollering that he's "stuck" when he wants to get out, but it was especially funny and yet also horrible that he was so specific in his desire for "ice cold water." So after some swearing, I got up with him, and he had a pouch and sipped some ice water and then absolutely pounded an entire piece of peanut butter toast. So, feeling better. Ellie was up at 7 and also fully mended and ready for breakfast, so that's good. We still took it easy today - Tim insisted on only eating peanut butter sandwiches, lest he end up barfing, and the kids took three hour naps.
The good news is that despite the set backs of living in a vomitorirum, we really got a lot of work done around the house during the break. All of our Christmas decorations are packed away until next year, and the pine needles have been cleaned away. We're going to have to remove the broken cabinetry in our garage sometime soon, and so we've been going through and trying to declutter and clean out all of the nonsense that's stuffed in there. Tim took two carloads of crap to the ewaste recycling, I have a couple of bags of toys and clothes to donate (after putting five bags of stuff out before the holidays, mostly random homegoods from the garage) and yesterday I sold all of my CDs and DVDs to a random lady off of craiglist, since we live in a digital era. Plus Tim swept up the patio! And we washed and folded a million piles of laundry - I think every set of sheets hit the washer and dryer yesterday, plus a pile of towels, baby blankets and stuffed animals that got hit with the barf spray. And tomorrow, back to work for Tim and school for Ellie, and back to regular, wonderful life.