It was one of those nights. Holland was up in the middle of the night again, roaming the house. There was a half empty glass of milk downstairs and he woke me up to tell me he was wet. But he wasn't just wet, my bedroom floor was wet, too. In his half-asleep stupor, he had taken off the pull-up and laid back down on the floor to sleep. So we got him back in another pull-up and back into bed (with me so I could monitor his sleep). After my shower, I tried to wake him up for school. I turned on the tv, shook him gently and talked to him. Nothing. Ok. Not going to school today.
I was on the computer checking email when Romania came downstairs. He had on his bathrobe and something orange smeared down the sleeve. We went upstairs to investigate. Sure enough, he had thrown up on his bed in the middle of the night. Didn't even wake up. So, now I have a wet floor and a vomit filled comforter. So far this morning, I've played Uno, Sorry and done 3 loads of pukey laundry. Can the day be over yet, please?