The night before last was a rough one. You woke Daddy and I up out of a nice, satisfying, deep sleep crying and moaning in the middle of the night. After rushing in to see what was the matter you said, “I have to go to the bathroom” – an act you are perfectly capable of performing solo at this point.
I took you. You peed. You went back to bed.
You woke us up no less then five more times between 2:30 and 4:30 am. “I can’t sleep”, “Will you sleep next to me?”, “Can I sleep in your bed?”, “Will you read me a story?”, “I’m thirsty”…on and on and on. Finally Daddy went in and at the risk of waking up your brother shouted, “Go! To! Sleep! We need to sleep, so stop this! Now!” Good, I thought. She knows we’re serious.
About 20 minutes later I heard someone shuffling around. Instinct got me up out of bed…again. There you were, halfway to your bedroom door, throwing up more than you’d eaten all day. Crap.
We were up at least twice more with vomit after that. I felt like an absolute heel for cursing you in my head earlier in the night. In the future, however, I think a little heads up would be in order. Instead of waking us up every 30 minutes for random requests and creating cranky parents, perhaps throw in a “my tummy hurts.” Lead with that, actually. It will at the very least get you a bucket next to the bed and probably some sympathy to boot.
P.S. – I’m glad you are feeling better!