Not such a great day, yesterday.

First, Tobin had a terrible night.  I was optimistic, because he stayed in his crib longer than usual, but that night turned into a series of Power Hours broken up by 20-minute chunks of sleep.  Everyone was grumpy in the morning except Miles.

While Miles was off developing his little Montessori brain, Tobin crabbed and grumped and didn’t nap much.  He didn’t want me to put him down at all, so I held him and tried to get a few things done one-handed.  After we went to get Miles, Tobin’s grumpiness continued, but he was more or less content to play on the floor if he could see his big brother.  I took that opportunity to go put in a load of laundry.  I came back upstairs, and everything was fine until I remembered that I’d been soaking two pairs of Miles’s underwear.  He’s been having a hard time remembering to go to the bathroom when he only kind of has to go, as opposed to oh geez oh geez I have to go to the bathroom right now and oops I guess a little came out.

I really wanted to get those underpants into that load of laundry, so I double-checked that Tobin was okay, dumped out the poopy water, grabbed the poopy underpants, and raced downstairs.  On the trip down, I smacked my head into the part that hangs down over the stairs, which is usually taller than I am, but I guess my bounding leaps increased my height by just enough that I made significant contact.

Miles may or may not have learned a new word.  I didn’t follow up on that one.

I got the underwear into the laundry, came upstairs, and saw that Tobin had spit out his pacifier and had something in his mouth.  I looked down at my hands, which didn’t look dirty but were surely crawly with e-coli.  I looked at Tobin, who didn’t seem to be actually choking, so I hedged my bets and washed my hands really fast.  Fortunately, it was just a bit of carpet fuzz, and I got it out of Tobin’s mouth before anything terrible happened.

The rest of the afternoon went okay.  Tobin took a good nap, and I was still exhausted from the night before, so Miles got more computer time than usual, which he thought was pretty great.  We ordered pizza for dinner because I just couldn’t deal with cooking anything.

Then came bedtime.

I had gotten Tobin to sleep, and Denny and I were cuddling Miles in his bed.  We’d finished reading stories, and I turned off the light and was in the middle of telling one final bedtime story.  We were doing “family sandwich,” in which Denny and I are the bread and Miles is the baloney.  I was lying on my left side with Miles cuddled up behind me.

Out of nowhere, I heard a

UurrrrrrrrrghpSPLASH

and felt the warmth spread over my back.  I gave out an involuntary shriek, jumped out of bed and barely dodged another wave.

Miles’s entire bed and entire parentage were covered in vomit.  Miles started shrieking too (because throwing up is scary for a little kid), and Tobin woke up and started crying.  That upset Miles further, because he knows it’s bad news when the baby gets woken up, and he yelled, “Oh no, Tobin’s awake!”

Denny and I were trying to calm everyone down while removing puke-covered clothing from ourselves and Miles.  Denny took Miles into the bathroom for an emergency bath.  When he saw his pajama shirt in the mirror, he said, through sobs, “It’s RUINED.”  Denny tried to assure him that it wasn’t ruined, that it was just dirty and we’d wash it and it would be fine, but Miles wouldn’t drop the subject until Denny agreed that it was, in fact, ruined.

I went to get Tobin, tried briefly to reassure him, then gave up and put him  on the floor while I stripped Miles’s bed and got new sheets on it.  Denny worked on cleaning Miles up while I worked on getting Tobin back to sleep, then Denny put Miles back to bed.

Eventually we met in the hallway again, both of us half-naked because we hadn’t had a moment to put on clean clothes.  We must have said something to each other, though I don’t remember the words we exchanged.  I do remember looking at Denny and thinking, “Well, here we are.”

This morning when I went to wake Miles up for school, I said, “That was a crazy night we had last night, wasn’t it?”

He said, “What was crazy?”