frazzled.

Baby A is still sick. He was up at 1:00 a.m. screaming. He went back down eventually after drugs and some milk. Then, his brother was up at 4:00 a.m. crying and yelling for "mama." I'm not sure what's going on with him. It's the second night in a row that he's gotten up around then. Last night, it was hard to get him back down and J ended up sleeping with him in the guest bedroom after both of us had tried to get him back down. Then, baby A woke up again at 6:00 a.m., feverish and crying. And Daniel woke up at about 6:30 whining. I was ready to put my ear plugs in, turn Baby Einstein on repeat play, and hook up a vodka IV at around 7:00 this morning.

It's now 3:00 and we are making it thanks to Baby Einstein, motrin & Tylenol. I'm taking baby A back to the pediatrician in a few minutes. I always worry about being one of those moms who takes their kid into the doctor for every little thing. I think Daniel is sick with the same thing, but since he's bigger and we've been through this with him before (and he doesn't seem to have the high fever), I just gave him some Tylen*ol cold medicine. But this is Baby A's first real illness and it's kind of scary when the little guys have a fever of 103.2. So, whatever.

I should probably wait one more day to take Andrew back in just to see if things clear up on their own, but it doesn't seem like he's getting any better, plus with two sick kids and lack of sleep, I'm not feeling very patient. It's funny how another part of your brain takes over when your kids are sick. I can tell myself all day long that baby A is fine, but when his fever goes up, any remnants of my rational self are out the window.