So tired but fulfilled

           It's only 8:45 on a Friday night, but seriously feels like it could be 1:00AM. We are two weeks into 2016 and I think we've had maybe 4 days of everyone being healthy. Nathan and Eliza have strep and ear infections, and Abigail and Aaron have stomach flu stuff going on with high fevers, and Olivia has a cough. Every night since last Saturday I've been woken up around midnight by a sick kid. My days have started at 1:00-2:00AM, and I'm so tired. Eliza is the worst little sick person ever. She was so miserable. It started Sunday, though she was kind of clingy and extra crazy a few days before that, and each day I thought, tomorrow will be better. But each day seemed to get worse. Just constant crying and misery. Or in the bathtub, which is definitely her happy place. The only moments my arms got a break was while she was in the bath. She probably took between 7-8 baths per day, every day this week. The antibiotics seem to be doing the trick and she's getting back to herself. Or so I pray. Nathan didn't really seem that sick at all, but he would randomly complain of an ear ache or sore throat, but it always coincided with not wanting to eat dinner, or go to school. So I had my suspicions. You can imagine my guilt when almost a week after he first complained, he was finally taken to the doctor and diagnosed with strep throat and a double ear infection. Poor guy! Though he has said he hopes that he stays sick forever so that he never has to go back to school. Mr. Social Butterfly, he is not. Meanwhile taking Eliza to the YMCA day care while I work out has been the only way she doesn't cry hysterically the entire 3 hours Nathan is at all school (though that only happened once, before I realized she was sick and not just being a cranky butt).
                Olivia is a much happier person when she has school. The last few days of winter break we were going crazy. But this week has been happier, though she missed two days for being sick.
                  Though despite this craziness I've somehow managed to stick to my goal of staying on top of laundry since my mom left (she helped catch me up, and I've just done 1-2 loads a day since she left). Yes that is only 1 week tomorrow, but this is probably a first for me in my entire marriage. I've also made my bed every day, and we've studied the scriptures as a family every night. The house has stayed semi-clean, like I wouldn't be completely mortified if someone came over, in fact we had our home inspection for foster care yesterday and I barely had to do anything to feel not embarrassed by the state it was in. So even though these are like bare minimum standards, I'm feeling pretty awesome. And by some miracle I've managed to stay healthy through all of it.
                      And Eliza's crying. Why won't these children just sleep?! I swear, when they're sick they sleep significantly less than normal. So frustrating.

How 2016 Began...

So I went to bed last night with the hopes that we had seen the last of Nathan's puking, and starting to think about goals for myself for the new year. Trying not to think too much on the year that had passed, and think about the future and all that. Visions of myself being in better shape, physically, spiritually, financially danced through my head as I started to doze off to sleep. Only to be awaken by the awful, heart stopping sound of a child puking. This time it's Eliza. I look at the clock, 11:48.  Happy New Year, looks like I'll be awake for midnight after all. Aaron and I get her cleaned up, and listen to the fireworks ringing in the new year. We kiss and laugh at the craziness. And then there's more puke, and more puke, and we spend most of the night cleaning puke from 1 and 4 year old. Eliza slept between Aaron and I, with a barricade of towels covering myself because I really hate puke. And at 7:00AM I'm awoken by a sharp fingernail scratching my eyelid and a little voice, "Good morning mama."
       And then I go check on the other puker where there's a fight going on over a blanket, and a cat being tortured. Settle fight, free the cat. Start breakfast. Then Olivia accidentally knocks over a giant, open bag of M&M's in the pantry. Clean M&M's, and switch out the vomit laundry from the middle of the night.
      And I realize the only goal I'm setting this year is to survive with my sanity in tact. Maybe keep the laughter we were able to find in the midst of sleep deprivation and vomit last night. I'll worry about waistlines and budgets next year, when maybe things are starting to settle down a bit. (HA!)