Enough Already

As I've already mentioned, Will had the stomach virus last week.  Five days of vomiting and diarrhea.  Then, on the first day that Will started to hold down some food, Liam got sick.  Today is Liam's fifth day and thankfully, he just (about a half-hour ago) kept down his first bottle since Friday evening of last week.  If you do the math, that's 10 consecutive days of blaaah.  The last few, especially, have been rough because Liam is not sleeping well at night.  Instead, he cat naps on-and-off, all day and all night.  Sleep, whine, cry, whine, sleep, whine, cry, whine, eat, vomit, whine, sleep, cry... 

This morning, I came downstairs with Liam at around 5 am.  He was fussy and couldn't sleep, so I made him a bottle of Pedialyte.  He calmed down a bit, but didn't fall back to sleep until around 6 am-- just in time for Will to come bounding down the stairs.  Will asked for fruit snacks and then television-- and I would've nodded my head 'yes' to just about anything to keep things quiet.  I kept motioning to Will to be quiet, pointing at Liam, who was lightly snoozing next to me.  "Mommy", Will whispered, "I want to sit there.  That's my spot."  (Of course, 'there' was where Liam lay sleeping.)  I tried to reason quietly with Will and felt my patience slipping away as he got louder and louder.  Finally, he jumped off the couch and flipped the television off as he loudly protested.  Liam's eyes bolted open as he gazed around the room.  I was so frustrated that, without saying a word, I tossed threw the remote to the floor.  The back of the remote flew off and the batteries scattered across the hardwood floor.  Liam started crying immediately and Will, watching from across the room, was the first to speak...

"GREAT!  Now look what you did-- you woke up Liam... and you're not supposed to throw things when you're angry."

You know you've had it when you look like the three-year-old and your three-year-old sounds like the adult.  I'm so ready for everyone to be healthy again and for a few good nights of sleep.  Hopefully, we're on the road to recovery.

Thanks to everyone for the comments and e-mails from the last few posts.  You guys are the best!

Bottoming Out

I have hit bottom.  I am writing this semi-publicly in an effort to inspire myself.  So here goes...

Last night, I got home from tutoring at about 9:15.  I found this plate of cookies on the counter.  Will and Bill had made them.  There were 24 cookies in the bag and there are 17 in this picture.  (The guys must have eaten 3, because I ate 4 before I took the picture.)  This morning... and yes, I'm serious... there was one,  just one pathetic cookie left on the plate.  Let's do the math people.  That's 21 cookies.  In all fairness, I think Bill ate a couple more once I got home.  But whether we're talking 17 or 18 or 19 cookies, this is really bad.  

For the past two weeks, I've tried to get on the wagon.  Egg whites and an English muffin for breakfast, turkey sandwich for lunch.... but then, around 2 pm or so, it all turns to crap.  Much of this is due to the fact that I'm exhausted and getting about four hours of sleep each night. But seriously, I've got to get a grip.  I'm 10 weeks post-baby and the pounds are no longer magically disappearing.

So now I'm going to do something really drastic.  I'm posting my weight... and will continue to post each week until I can get into my pre-baby jeans.  172.  (If this doesn't work, I'll start posting pictures... then you'll all be running scared.)  And now I'm off to make my egg whites and think of a way to explain the missing cookies to my three-year-old.