Last night was a rough night. Both kids wound up in our bed.
B has no ability to self-regulate her temperature. (It's related to her sensory system or something. She is either hot or cold and she can't seem to instinctually figure out how to change that. She often comes down in order for us to tell her that she should put on a blanket, or take off a blanket. "Mommy, I'm cold." "Go back upstairs and put your blanket on." "Okay." Sometimes, we have to tell her to wear less clothing. She just doesn't know how to deal with it.) B ends up in our bed a lot of nights... especially during the middle of summer and winter. She also is a very poor sleeper on top of that. I keep thinking she needs a white noise machine.
T had a bad stomachache.
Luckily, I fell asleep at around 2 am out on our couch. I say "luckily" because T started hurling his guts out about a half an hour later, and he hasn't really stopped much since then.
The husband tried to wake me up to help deal with this. I didn't answer any of his rather loud summons... and there was a lot of puke... everywhere. The husband thought I'd either taken a sleeping pill, or I was pretending to be asleep. In my defense, I wouldn't "pretend"... probably. I woke up as he was finishing stripping beds and after he'd already cleaned up both kids. (B apparently had puke in her hair because she'd been sleeping beside him.)
So, today is a sick day. T is very, very ill. He is puketastic. I can't believe how much puke can come out of one six year old. The house has been redecorated in vomit. Vile.
Still, I was glad that I'd missed out on the first wave of nasty.
T and I are watching "Monsters Vs. Aliens." The husband stayed home. B didn't get much sleep so she stayed home too.
Yay for one big happy family.