Bucket List Miami Weekend...

Happy Glorious Spring Weather Week! After the dreary cold of winter (I'm SO sure I have Seasonal Affective Disorder) I have finally begun to hear the birds chirping and actually visualize the grass peeking from under the melting snow. Several weeks ago, still in the depths of abysmal winter, Matt's brother Ben and his fiance Sofi mentioned that they had been wanting to have the girls over for the weekend to their new house. In no scenario in the history of the world would we decline this lovely offer, so we decided on a weekend. 

What should we do? Where should we go? We mulled over a few ideas ranging from bar-hopping in a neighboring city to actually hiding out at home and binge-watching Netflix with no child interruptions. Nothing was really making us super excited... my priority is always to fit a nap in but that couldn't be ALL we could do. When you have a child-free weekend placed in your lap, you want to make it a good one. March in this area can range from a blizzard to mid-seventies... and all we were craving was warmth. Enter: time to check off a bucket list item! The plan: head to the airport with essentially nothing, and fly somewhere then and there. 

I am a conflicted personality... think, equal parts planner yet fly by the seat of my pants type of girl. I love to go with the flow but structure can be heavenly. Pulling out a calendar to plan can actually give me hives, but checking things off my to-do list is a total rush (I actually make the task of doing laundry into four separate items. And I will also write something down that I already did just so I can cross it off). I love nice, expensive things but I always find the deal or sale to maximize my spending. I will go to the ends of the dark web to find a free shipping promo code. So this bucket list weekend was both challenging and exhilarating. 

Our requirements for the weekend were simple: 
1. Warmth.
2. A beach or pool to lie around all day.

3. Anything that allowed us to move as little as possible (aka, we needed our beverages served to us by said-beach/pool).
4. A nap.

Simple, right? 

In my bag was the following: a bathing suit, a cover-up, a dress, a pair of flip-flips, shorts and a tank top. I also brought minimal makeup and toiletries, my kindle, phone charger and undergarments. Oh and I did bring a hat, which may it rest in peace, because I somehow lost it. 

The only stuff I looked up prior to departure day was basically how to even go about it and the best sites to book last minute travel. Our original goal had been to show up at the airport and essentially go to the Southwest desk to find a flight. Considering this may make us appear like terrorists, particularly with our lack of luggage, we decided to book it on the drive in. I found an app called Skyscanner that allows you to search for the cheapest flights to everywhere leaving from your area. After trying to absorb the initial shock of how expensive flights are last-minute, we were able to find a non-stop Southwest flight at 11:45am to Fort Lauderdale. Within the time it took me to pull up the Southwest website to book it, the 11:45am had disappeared. Ugh. The 2:15pm it was, no big deal (the current time was 9:30am). Our thought was... we are together hanging out, we can eat and drink, who cares. We arrive at the airport, check-in and get settled in at a bar. Although we were flying to the Fort Lauderdale airport, both Matt and I have spent time there in the past. Since we wanted somewhere new, we figured Miami was perfect. After perusing hotels on my phone and not really getting anywhere, we decided to gamble yet again. The Priceline "Name your own price" is something we used once before when going to Vegas and we ended up with the MGM Grand. With such a positive past experience, why not do it again? Our goal was either oceanfront with drink service on the beach or if not oceanfront, just have a rockin' pool. With our meager requirements, we rolled the dice... and lost. Hotel Croydon is what we were assigned. At first glance it has great reviews and looks like an adorable boutique hotel a block away from the beach. At second glance, you will find the picture of a lackluster pool that just minutes before I had vetoed staying there because of it. 

Womp womp. I mean, it is teeny, shady, and inches away from the road. No thanks. 

Trying to stay positive, we (finally) headed to our gate. After boarding the completely full flight and getting settled in our seats, we get the dreaded announcement... hydraulic issues with the plane. A mechanic was on his way to check it out and we were supposed to "sit tight." After I had kids, I became an incredibly nervous flyer. Like near panic mode on take-off, alcohol-required, texts being sent off to family to take care of my beautiful girls who I am leaving motherless since this tin box surely won't make it kind of thing. I REALLY don't need to hear about potential issues and "fixing" them. Fortunately, (yet unfortunately), the plane could not be fixed so back to the gate it was. We end up being sent over to another gate where they have to read off passengers one-by-one and check IDs since they had taken our boarding passes already. Eek. A cluster, you could say. So we finally set off and land two hours later than planned, and Ubered our way to our hotel for a final arrival time of 7:45pm. 

Exhausted and hungry, we went to the hotel bar for the remaining minutes of their free (!!) happy hour and to get something to eat. Now I'm not sure if we were so pasty white that people thought we were ghosts and couldn't see us, but I have never had such a hard time getting the attention of a bartender in my life. The conversation with the two other patrons present must have been riveting. But seriously, I was a bartender once upon a time. It took 15 solid minutes and asking three other random workers to even get a menu. 

Frustrated, tired, and feeling like this may have been way more effort than it was worth, we headed up to our room (two double beds, of course) to collapse... and ended up laughing hysterically watching youtube videos of those hidden camera pranks from the Ellen show. When you are with your favorite person, watching paint dry can be fun. 


Thankfully the next two days took a serious upswing after we managed to latch onto beach service from the Marriott. 

One suggestion I give you all is that you should always ask how much your buckets of Corona are because they may turn out to be $8.00 per Corona and you have spent a small fortune before you know it. You're welcome. 

We also managed to just blend in with the Marriott guests and found an unlatched gate to get into the pool and hot tub area. Now if you know me, you will be epically shocked by these actions. I am a 100% rule follower. I wish I wasn't, but I just can't help the feeling of panic and fear when I know I'm not supposed to be doing something. Miami Steph took over and I marched right in without a second glance. 

Maybe since we are platinum Marriott rewards members (possibly due to my expensive taste) I figured we would be a-okay. In the Marriott hot tub is where we found out why every flight in the world was booked... that little thing known as college spring break. Maybe since I was never allowed to go on one, my mind just didn't even register. My most favorite moment occurred in that hot tub with those crazy young college kids. We were all sitting around and they turned to us and asked, "So what college are you guys down here from?" I very nearly spit out my drink. I know we don't look super old, but we most definitely don't look super young either. 

 They all seemed utterly shocked that we were from the College of No Kids Bucket List Weekend. It basically made my life. 

So other than the beach and the pool, we really didn't do much of anything. On Saturday night we contemplated going out to dinner but realized we didn't have appropriate footwear for the kind of dinner we wanted. We attempted room service which somehow our lovely hotel didn't offer despite the fact that it is on their website (I had words with the guy on the phone because he didn't believe me that it blatently said-so on their page... and you can tell how heated I really was by the sheer fact I picked up the phone. As a person who has a phobia of ordering carry-out, that is a really big deal). So Matt had to go down to the hotel restaurant and bring food up to our room. We then proceeded to watch some crime show that we always seem to find whenever we are out of town together. The big takeaway from this particular episode is if you are trying to hire someone to kill your husband, you probably shouldn't write the entire plan down on paper (misspellings included). 


Sunday flights back were quite limited... most left at 6am (not an option). I did find one non-stop at 8:35pm with Spirit Airlines. If you haven't heard of it, I recommend that you go back to that wonderful place of ignorance and never speak of it again. If you have heard of it, you may be able to commiserate with us on a truly bizarre, did these flight attendants fail out of everything else, why is my chair metal and my tray smaller than Matt's hand. 

This is a **small** Fiji bottle and it barely fit. I mean, what?

So if you have any desire to do what we did, or something along those lines, I have a few tips for you.


-Be aware when it is the time for college spring breaks, and don't go then. While the ones we met were lovely, in general they also created a little problem called "totally booked or ridiculously expensive flights and hotels." 

-Decide prior which route you are going to go... either really, truly don't care where you are staying and the amenities it offers OR be willing to pony up to make sure you get what you want/expect. 

-Have low expectations and know that even those can be lowered (yes, I'm talking no room service. I'm never getting over it). 

-Wear far more sunscreen than you can ever possibly imagine and reapply every 17 seconds if you going from pasty white to the Florida sun. I'm telling you, I had to wear leggings on Monday because everything.just.hurt... and I am one who typically tans easily. 

-Remember that everything, both good and bad, is a memory you are creating. 



So many people seem shocked (and think we are kinda crazy) about how much stuff Matt and I do together. We have unfortunately been both given a unique vantage point of marriage: We both lost our fathers while we were still teenagers and have watched our mothers weather the devastating reality of life without their soulmates. So many things are planned for the future, but what if you don't get the opportunity to have that future? You don't think it could ever happen to you until it does. We are acutely aware of tragedy and that there are no guarantees in life. With that experience and knowledge, I'd like to say we try to live in a way that reflects that. There's no better time than the present for SO much more than you could imagine. 

Making Good Changes...

Ahhhh blogging. Such a strange phenomenon. So many obnoxious, self-important people who think their measly words have an impact. One of the reasons I never wanted to start a blog was because I didn't want to be a cliche... yet another stay-at-home mommy blogger who thinks her kids are cute and funny. Total vom. 

During my relative absence over the last year, I have come to realize something quite interesting about myself. An epiphany of sorts. Yet another quirk that my dear hubby has to deal with. In my quest to free up time and not put pressure on myself to post weekly, by not forcing myself to sit down and take stock in the last week and really comprehend the crazy that had occurred, I realized that I have been doing a disservice to myself. Without me really ever knowing it, this blog was my therapy. And everyone can always use a little therapy. It was the time I took for myself. It allowed me to go to the depths and rant, or focus on projects I was really excited about. It forced me to take note of things I so easily brushed aside, I listened more than I normally would. In my silly introspection as I wrote, it gave me so much more PERspective than I realized. When you see something written out and are willing to post it to the world (or like 3 readers), it just makes you view it in a different light. A totally ridiculously, insane day when everything in the world seems to go wrong and you end up locking yourself in the closet with wine seems like a stupid little comical hump in the scheme of things. It can be entertainment to others, make them feel just a little bit more normal and not so bad about their life because I am a bigger hot mess. It made me really "remember the crazy" which was my original goal of this blog from day one. And honestly, I just really missed writing. 

So. In trying to be a better wife and mother, I think I actually became a worse one (reason for guilt #23408243098). I know what I need to stay sane, and I haven't been doing it. As a mom, you always tend to eliminate your own needs first... but when you really look at it, that is just more detrimental to the whole family. A friend posted this the other day and it hit home: 

It isn't a mom's nature to do that. It is always give give give, who needs me, how can I help, who do I need to take care of right now. And sometimes you don't even know what to put in your own cup to even be able to pour into anyone else's. Before I get too deep into analogies, basically... to even figure out what recharges you is an eternal work in progress. It feels selfish and unnecessary, when it should actually be a total priority. 

I cannot begin to describe how grateful I am for a husband who, in the midst of the crazy ups and downs of married life with three young kids, is willing to listen to me and actually make an effort to make changes to help me and make our life better together. We are almost 10 years in and it is a process, so don't think we are magical. It really does take constant communication and essentially spelling out things that I need. For example... I detest making school lunches with so much of my soul I am unable to articulate. Until this school year, I think Matt has made one or two lunches for the girls in the last six years. Despite my best efforts of the girls making their own lunches, it doesn't always work out. But oh wait, I never asked Matt to help with lunches. When I actually, finally communicated this to him, guess who is the all-star lunch maker extraordinaire? This cutie: 

In the last few months Matt and I have also tried to make OTHER changes to simplify and help our craziness. When I quit working, I stopped the monthly/occasional cleaning service because in my head I thought, "I mean I'm home. This is part of my job. I should be able to keep up." 

HAHAHHAHAhahahahHAHAHhHHAhahahHAAAAAAAA. 

Hahahahah HAHAAAAAHHahahahahhaha 

Idiocy at its best. Keeping my house clean is basically an impossible task. Plus, I hate cleaning. I don't want to live my life running around behind my children cleaning up their messes all.day.long. I mean I do that anyways, but I don't want to be stressed about knowing I have to get to a grimy tub in the midst of that. We finally officially committed to an every other week cleaning service. This, hands down, has changed my life. If you can make it work by downgrading your cable to 973 channels instead of 991, do it. Please. You can come over and watch Bravo with me in my clean house. And don't give me the excuse of, "I would be too stressed running around cleaning up before they came." My friends, if I can maintain over the course of two weeks, ANYONE can. Obviously my house will look like it imploded within a number of hours after it gets cleaned. The difference is, I can whip it back in shape in no time. It has also allowed me to have the time (and motivation) to do things I have been putting off for forever, like reorganizing my cups cabinet. (I wish I had a before and after, but just ask my sister and she will regale you with the insanity that it was). I realize that this is often thought of as a luxury and a non-essential expense, but I will tell you that if you can cut something else out to make it work, you will truly not regret it. But make sure you get actually good cleaners... no one needs someone vacuuming around a toy. 

Oh and I will do anything and everything (including sitting in my car down the street) to avoid being in the house while they clean. I am so not important enough to watch other humans wash my dirt. 

Another thing we have done is tried to make dinnertime simpler. I actually enjoy the act of cooking (with a glass of wine of course), but it is the planning that I utterly fail at. I have started doing Hello Fresh and get usually two meals a week delivered to my doorstep in glorious, packaged boxes with everything I need in them. 

A few examples of the inside of the box: 

    

You can choose 2-5 meals a week for two or four people (I get two meals for a family of four and we have more than enough food... and my girls are most definitely eaters). There is a veggie box option as well! Everything I have made has been actually good, fresh ingredients, and most importantly, all in one box that I don't have to plan. 

If you are so inclined to try it, you can use my code for $40 off your first box (full disclosure, I get $20 off if you use my code but that doesn't matter to me, I just want to put the idea of these meal delivery things in your head because it is seriously amazeballs. I've heard Blue Apron is good too). My code is WBW4XF and you can try it one week and never do it again, but I love having the option. You choose your meals Wednesdays by midnight for the following week. For me, the comfort of knowing what I am making for dinner (and no last second store trip with children-- eek) is awkwardly blissful. 


So. I'm not here to tell you that a cleaner, meal delivery service and a husband who makes school lunches are the end-all, be-all problem solvers of your life. That is what helped me go in the right direction (and I started playing tennis which I'm now obsessed with, but I'm beginning to sound very spoiled and bratty and should just stop while I'm ahead). But as I said, I realized this blog was very important to me too, even if I get zero readers and the $7.00 I make a month from ads disappears. What I want to change about it is essentially the format. While I'm sure I will still have plenty of lengthy, introspective posts with lots of pictures, I also am giving myself the freedom to post whatever the heck I want, whenever I want, no matter how trivial it may be. I don't know why I limited it before... maybe I always wanted everything to be "good enough" to post. Clearly that didn't work long-term, so maybe this will. Thank you for being my therapy and if you made it this far in this novel of a post, I really do appreciate it. Thank you for supporting me in the past and I hope you come along for my current ride. 

Happy Wednesday! 

90's music and failing at life...

Discovering late 90's/early 00's hit music radio has changed my life. No, seriously. I never processed how much happier I could be while cleaning, folding laundry, doing all the tedious tasks I hate-- when jamming to N*Sync, Britney, Destiny's Child and all the other songs that were my high school years. It takes me back to a simpler time... a time when my worries consisted of homework, dive practice and the next day's outfit. A time when food magically appeared in the pantry and fridge. A time when my schedule was mine and mine alone. A time when I didn't truly understand the meaning of stress and responsibility. A time when I listened to music that didn't have the name "Disney" or "Kidz Bop" involved. 

I miss that time. I would never change my current life, but there are definitely moments I wish I wasn't SO in charge of SO many things--- three small humans being my main schtick. 

Last season on Grey's Anatomy (yes, I still watch it), there was an episode where Meredith was supposed to go visit her husband for the weekend. Instead, she missed her flight, got a hotel room and did absolutely nothing, by herself. Her excuse was she just didn't want to be anything to anyone for a minute... not anyone's doctor, mother, wife, friend. But the problem is that life keeps spinning, even if we want to hide for a minute. 

I have said many times that I often don't feel mature enough to be a parent. The pressure (I put on myself) to give them the magical, carefree, wonderful childhood I want for them can induce panic/guilt/depression/endless adjectives. I vent to Matt quite frequently that I just feel like I'm failing in every aspect. Yes, I do have a perfectionist personality which is a challenge. Pre-motherhood, I went through life pretty much succeeding at anything I put my mind to. These days? The house always seems like a disaster despite feeling like I clean ALL the time. Laundry and dishes are my nemesis. Trying to make a quality dinner during arsenic hour is near impossible. I should take it back a step further... having planned and purchased all of the ingredients to make a quality dinner often times seems near impossible. Working out? HAH. How about giving my wonderful husband the time and energy he deserves? Being a good friend, daughter? Comical attempts. I find myself thinking, "Why do I even try?" My mom used to say the phrase, "Jack of all trades. Master of none." Basically it means that if you are going to do a lot of crap, you are only going to be mediocre at them all. That is REALLY hard for the perfectionist in me. 

The one subject that I would truly like to be a master of is, of course, my girls. But that is impossible, which is so very hard to accept. There are many, many moments when I think to myself-- Wow, am I utterly screwing up my kids? Am I creating monsters who will be incompetent members of society? What if what I'm doing right now is something they will spend countless hours rehashing in therapy? 

This past weekend we took all three girls to the Redskins game... and we won!!! Miracles happen. We actually all had a great time. 

Gooooo Redskins! 

A little parking lot football. You can see how far Liv threw it. 

In these pictures, we look like an adorable, loving family. Which we are... except when we're not. Not when everyone is whining and fighting and complaining and crying and interrupting and tattle-taling and hitting and shrieking "MOMMYYYYY" 20439834098 times a day. 

So. Despite the fact that I know that I will never fully master these three nuggets, I am quite determined to never give up trying. Some days are better. Some days are truly quite awful... on those days, while I don't disappear to a hotel room for a weekend, I do run off to Home Goods and T.J. Maxx by myself if at all possible to get my sanity back. It isn't a cure-all but it does help. Or at least it gives me enough energy to go home and start all over again the next day. What also helps is the hilariousness that this picture is (even though, shocker, it made a massive mess): 

Happy Thursday! 

Times are changing...

Times are changing. I always knew it was going to happen. You just never really process that it IS happening. 

I have left behind the era of diapers, bottles, nap schedules, massive carseats and cribs. 

I have entered the world of managing activity schedules, carpools, homework, sleepovers, and the PTA. 

I am of the opinion that the stage you are in with your kids never really gets easier, per se. The difficulties just change. Am I thrilled that I don't have to pack a diaper bag with an endless supply of snacks and multiple outfits in case of a poop explosion? Of course. Do I think comforting my daughter when a friend is mean at school, or becoming basically an Uber driver is a walk in the park? Obviously not. Am I utterly terrified of teenage years? No question. Despite my new, current stage of life, the ends of my days haven't really changed... utterly exhausted and quite often with a glass of wine. 

We had a fantastic, busy summer. Between swim team, family vacations, a few camps and lots of pool time, my girls got tanner and blonder than ever. Here are a few of my fav moments: 

Despite all the fun of summer, August always brings out the cravings of structure and organization in me. I have discussed in past posts my awkward obsession with the feeling of a new school year (and my hoarder-like pen collection). To me, even more than New Year's, it really represents a fresh start. With Summer going into 2nd grade, Layla starting Kindergarten and Livi in preschool three days a week, I started freaking out about the potential for morning chaos. Summer has one speed, and one speed only: that of a snail. A snail who gets sidetracked by ANYTHING that comes her way. Layla is not a snail, but she is my late sleeper who is no peach when she doesn't want to get up. Then I have Olivia who, on a daily basis, comes up with something she just doesn't know how to do anymore by herself. "Mommy, I just forget how to put underpanties on." 

Needless to say, I was concerned. I didn't want every morning to be running around, yelling, complaining, where-are-my-shoes chaos. I implemented a few things that (for these first few weeks) have actually worked gloriously. Like I kind of can't believe it. They do require upkeep on my part, but that is 100 schmillion percent worth it to have the decent mornings we have had. 

1. They pick out all of our outfits for the week on Sunday. I check the weather, they choose things, and I make adjustments on the really terrible outfits (no Layla, a purple tutu does not mean you need a purple shirt). It takes 10 minutes and saves me EPIC amounts of time and stress in the mornings. We drape them on hangers next to cute little day of the week labels I made (and laminated... obvi). 

2. They pack their own lunches. No, I don't care that they are only almost four, five, and seven years old. They are all perfectly capable of making a sandwich. They know the categories to fill: 
-drink 
-sandwich/main
-fruit/veggie
-dairy item (yogurt, string cheese, etc) 
-snack (goldfish, Pirate's booty, etc)
I try to prepackage the snacks and fruit/veggies in baggies so they just grab them but I haven't even done that 100% and it has been fine. AND no more coming home from school and complaining that I forgot that one of them doesn't like the Apple-Banana Fruit Squishems. And now they use it as a bargaining chip with each other... which is a risky move. 

3. Lots of easy breakfast options... but whatever I give them, that is what they eat. No one kid wants a waffle, one wants cereal and one wants peanut butter toast. A frequent phrase in our house is, "You get what you get and you don't get upset." I made a bunch of breakfast burritos (large batch of scrambled eggs slightly loose and whatever else you want--cheese, bacon, sausage, salsa, whatever. Roll up in a flour tortilla, wrap in a paper towel and then plastic wrap. Store in a freezer bag. To reheat, unwrap plastic wrap and put in microwave 1-2 minutes or until warm), batches of pancakes, stocked up on waffles, english muffins, you name it. I also wrote a list of ideas for those mornings that I just can't think. 


So. Up to now, we got off to a good start. And an adorable one. 

Happy Thursday! 

The Depths, Mexico and a Striped Cast...

I have reemerged. I know, I can't believe it either. 

So I'm going to state the obvious... Life is clearly crazy. But it is crazy for everyone. I'm not that special. Last I posted (<--link) was when I was wallowing in the depths of despair prior to our family vacay in Mexico. I have since risen from said-ridiculous depths (for no real reason), but have had plenty of moments where I went right back to the same place. 

Yesterday, just yesterday, I shed actual tears. I will officially, 100 bagillion percent say this time and time again. I hate winter. 

The current phrase on the chalkboard in my family room. 

If I feel so strongly about it, you wonder why I still live in a place where it snows. Well because it doesn't always snow. I had far too many winters as a child (when I actually sort of enjoyed the crap) when it never.freaking.snowed. Not even a drop all winter. Now it happens. Now. NOW, when I have three small children of my own and it takes 47 minutes to bundle them up to go out and play for 11 minutes; when snow days deplete my very few, short, oh-so-precious hours each week that everyone is at school and I relish in my aloneness; when everyone rotates their sickness and someone always seems to be sleeping on top of me blowing snot rockets in my face; when I plan appointments around those few hours that I am supposed to be alone; when my pantry and fridge are just empty in general and everyone else buys out all of the eggs, milk and bread. Now. Now is when we get snow. 

But this is life. And it is now. 

To sum up two major events in the last few months... 

Livi broke her wrist. I always knew she would be the first of the three to break a bone. She is basically our human wrecking ball. I'm talking she will run straight into a wall, go flying, pop up without a complaint and keep on going. It is quite comical to watch (when I'm not concerned about constant brain damage). So a slide at a birthday party got the best of her. A full 24 hours later after she just stopped using her right arm entirely (mom of the year), I took her in to get an x-ray (she actually looked at me and smiled as the doctor was examining her... the child feels no pain). 

Lo and behold, it was fractured... a mere week and a half before our long-awaited trip to Mexico. There was no question in my mind to pay extra for the waterproof cast; that was just not something I was willing to deal with. She obviously requested pink and purple stripes and was strangely happy and didn't care at all about it. 

I somehow packed myself and everyone without TOO much stress, was able to find the neck pillows that the girls were dying for, got ridiculously sick the night before we left (I legit could not breathe), and we were off. 

To recap an utterly amazeballs trip, we drank, we ate, we swam, we held a parrot, I got felt up by a monkey, we swam with dolphins, we got serenaded by mariachi dudes, and we drank some more. A bed on the beach with glorious sheers fluttering in the wind is now the level at which I will grade all other beach trips. My Tommy Bahama chair in Ocean City may no longer cut it.

Our dolphin adventures. The one of just me is actually two dolphins pushing me from my feet under the water. Bucket list item-- totes checked off. 

We obviously had a good time. Then we had to come back to real life, which during this time of year genuinely can suck. Livi got her cast off, then back on again (it wasn't fully healed), then finally off. She had a rockin' tan.

Adding to my pure detest of coldness, in the weeks since our return we have broken our freezer, garbage disposal, garage door, AND we have a suspected pipe leak because our water bill is out of control. #adulthoodisoverrated #soisowningahome

So this week, the day after yet another snow day, when I was awakened hourly (just as I was drifting off from the last cleanup session) to help and comfort my daughter vomiting as intensely as her little body would allow, I cried. From exhaustion, from cabin fever, from sadness that I could do nothing to help her, from thinking about which child would be getting this sickness next and from the dread of repeating this night. And then I cleaned the bucket yet again, washed out her mouth, held her close and didn't sleep. Just like every other mom would do. 

Happy Wednesday :o)