Well, it's really just me and Devin, but I'm counting us both twice. Poor us...
We got some cold that's going around their new school. New germs, new illnesses, I guess.
A few minutes before bedtime, Devin said, "I want to go to bed." He repeated his request to Daddy (on my command, because I thought it was so cute.) Dad liked it so much, he insisted on holding our warm little one. 10 minutes later, Devin said it again, "I want to go to bed." He was really ready. He was asleep within a few minutes of being tucked in.
Being tucked into his own bed didn't last too long, though. Daddy brought him to bed with us last night because he didn't like the way his breathing sounded. I made sure I knew where to find the nebulizer and the albuterol, but we didn't need it. He sounded bad, but his bronchial tubes weren't constricted. (A mother knows when her child's bronchial tubes are swollen.)
I thought he was sleeping just fine. I was having trouble sleeping myself, and I didn't notice him tossing or turning. A few hours after we brought him to our bed, I heard a loud thump. I assumed it was probably Socks, but when Dad looked around, I decided I had better check on Trevor. It could have been a kidnapper, after all.
When I discovered nothing out of the ordinary and Trevor asleep soundly in his bed and not on the floor, I returned to bed. I mentioned to Dad that I thought the loud bump was probably Socks. Daddy said, "me, too." Then little Devin who had been sleeping pretty well for a sicky croaked out, "me, too." 2 o'clock in the morning, and Sicky Devin can't sleep because of the cat.
Poor Sickies, all.