It's hard to remember my day now that Tiven is gone, and Mads is sleeping peacefully. I do remember tons of spit-up (that child must have a digestive issue). I also remember warning Jeffrey that if he didn't get up right now, I was going to sludge his pillow with diarrhea poo while his head was still fucking on it. I remember removing Tiven's bink from Mads' mouth about 500 times, and accidentally elbowing her in the forehead while she was gunnin' for his bottle. At noon, there was peace:
About 13 minutes of it.
But now it's over. I plan to pass Babe off to Jeffrey, curl up on the couch with a couple saltines, and pass out by 6pm.
I will never baby-sit with the flu again. No way.