Dinner Time Woes

I am lucky enough to have four fantastic eaters.  My Italian friend told me that in her country we would be welcome at any table because my kids eat and enjoy whatever is put in front of them with obvious relish.  So when they haven't eaten regularly for a week, I know something is up.  If you have been keeping up on the blog, you know that we are fighting (and kind of loosing the battle) with various illnesses.  At first I didn't think anything of it; no one likes to eat when they are sick.  However, when they eat three chocolate chip cookies and then tell me they cannot eat any dinner because they don't feel good I raise my eyebrows.  That was last night.....
Today at lunch I gave them exactly what they asked for last night for dinner.  Toast.  I made our boy (the only one who ate the BBQ chicken pizza without complaint) whatever he wanted--macaroni and cheese.  Needless to say fits started all over the dining room.  Fists were thrown in the air and slammed down on legs in "can you see I am mad at you?" style.  Finally, when their toast was eaten and they asked for the macaroni and cheese, they got a "Are you really sure you want that?  I don't want you to feel sick."  After protests of innocence each girl fessed up.  Both were just fine last night and just didn't want dinner and promised to eat whatever was set before them for dinner tonight in exchange for the cherished macaroni and cheese.  They were each given macaroni and cheese--and a cookie.  We shall see if they hold up to their claims of health come dinner time.

Up All Night

I don't know about you, but when I have to get up at 5 AM every morning (that's right, my kids are early risers) I need to go to bed by 10 PM.  No late news for me, and we tivo Craig Ferguson.  So imagine my surprise being woken up at 11:30 PM by my bed shaking like a San Fransico earthquake.  My husband's coughs have no break, poor man, until 1 AM.  At 2 AM my six-year-old comes down stairs, "Mom, my stomach hurts." So we go upstairs to take a look.  The whole upstairs is lit up like a Christmas tree because my four-year-old has thrown up in bed.  Send the six-year-old to bed, clean up the four-year-old and run to the store for emergency gatorade.  Set the four-year-old up and six-year-old comes out with two-year-old in hand.  He is coughing so hard his "tummy hurts."  Send six-year-old back to bed; rock two-year-old and put him back to bed.  Tell six-year-old to eat a couple of crackers because goodness knows that I am too hungry to sleep and tell her to go back to sleep.  Check on the four-year-old, she is sleeping--it is 3:15 AM.  Lay down and hear ten-month-old coughing in her sleep.  Sigh and close my eyes.  3:45 AM six-year-old, "Mom, I threw up."  Clean bathroom, change pajamas, and wait for it to come again.  Start reading (by the way, I have a cold and have lost my voice) a chapter out of Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle <amazing book for kids about first-fourth grade>.  Set up a bed on the floor for six-year-old and put her to bed; it is 4:30 AM.  Lay down, close my eyes, alarm goes off at 5 AM.  Get up, take shower, check on everyone.......
Ask Husband to Stay Home and I Take a Nap.