L kept me up late last night "debating". He likes to debate. I hate it. Whatever I am discussing, it has my passionate support. I am equally passionate about the fact that he is a mean person if he is disagreeing with me. It's fun for everyone.

About 4 this morning, Hatchling started crying. When I dragged myself upstairs, after running into a wall pretty hard on the way, he said "Mommy, I like water." Because I will do anything to bring about more sleep at this hour of the day, I got him more water and retired to my bed.

Shortly after, more cries of distress wafted downstairs from Hatchling's room. When I got up there, he told me he was scared. I turned on the light, only to see large, totally undigested pieces of carrot (from last night's veggie lasagna) on his favorite blanket. I cleaned him up and crawled in bed with him, being the good mommy that I am. I finally got him to sleep, so I snuck back downstairs to my non-pukey bed, only to be immediately recalled by more retching.

Poor little tike. He's had mostly dry heaves since about 5. Poor little Slush, she's had 4 hours of sleep and had to be intimately close to vomit.

Life is pretty unfair.