Last night was rough. To put it mildly, it SUCKED.
Cooper is sick. Sniffly, congested, can't breath, SICK. But last night we added another element to the mix. Uncontrollable crying and withering around. I knew he was hurting but I was having a hard time figuring out where and what (if anything) I could do about it. We tried tylenol. We tried a bottle. We tried a flashlight...(which sounds weird but Craig has this flashlight and is just Cooper size and when it's dark sometimes you can hand it to Coop and he flails it around and watches the light and chews on the end...). Anyway we tried all that we knew to try. Craig walked around with him. I cradled him. NOTHING. WAS. WORKING.
He would take his bottle for like 30 seconds and then stop and start to cry again. I thought maybe he was having trouble with the milk (because of all the freakin congestion) so we tried pedialyte. He would still only eat for like half a minute.
I had him propped in my lap on a pillow and all of a sudden IT ALL CAME UP. Like possibly everything he had ever eaten in his whole life, possibly everything anyone had ever eaten in their whole life...since the beginning of time...all PROJECTILE VOMIT style. We were soaked and covered and so was the bed.
I changed and changed the Coop, who had miraculously stopped screaming and was down to a whimper. Poor little baby, I knew he must be miserable. Anyway so we relocated to the couch and I tried just holding him against me which was actually working so me and him propped against the couch to try and get some much needed sleep. (By this time it was 3:00 am).
Craig comes and flops on the other couch, apple in hand...I'm like, "what are you doing, are you not going back to bed?" He was like "no, pretty much I have to get up in three hours I'll just stay up!" (See when I get delirious I get funny when Craig gets delirious he gets cranky and unreasonable).
So me and Coop are sitting there trying to sleep while Craig sits 3 feet away and munches on an apple...have you ever heard anyone eat an apple at 3:00 in the morning? Pretty much the most annoying sound ever...it's dead silence then CRUUUUNNNNCH...chew chew chew...CRUUUUNNNNCH...chew chew chew.
I cannot describe to you the absolute torture this caused my ears. It was worse than nails on a blackboard, it was worse than nails on jeans (bec!) and I'm pretty sure it was worse than if fifteen cows had been in my house, all mooing, all dying.
Finally the apple was gone. Then *then* he decided to go back into the bedroom...finally I think we'll get some rest. Now I'm trying not to move at all because I don't want to risk waking him up and starting this whole process over again.
Mercy cat jumps up on the coffee table and swipes the bag of cat treats that are lying there. CRAP! Now if a normal cat encountered a bag of treats it wouldn't be that bad. They might bat it around a little, play with it for a few seconds but then they would loose interest because, well they're a cat and a cat has the attention span of like, 2.8 seconds. But not Mercy cat, she is like a freakin ninja...with tools. She grabs the bag with her teeth and carries it to the floor. All the while I'm whispering "mercy...mercy...no...NO..." She ignores me and proceeds to use her teeth and front paws to rip into the bag...an effective, albeit SLOW, TORTUROUS way to open them. So I keep hearing *crinkle* rip rip rip *crinkle* rip rip rip until I almost entitled this post "the one where the cat gets the boot".
Then the crying starts again. AUGHGHTHTHGHGH. I try a nifty little hold called the collick carry that my brilliant mom showed me. This calmed him and as long as I had pressure on his tummy he was fine. The minute I layed him down he screamed but if I was holding him pressing on his tummy he seemed okay. So this is what we did. We pressed and we whimpered and we slept.
Poor little guy, I hope and pray that he feels better today. (Craig and my mom have him at the doctor right now).
And as for Craig and Mercy, no more cat treats and SO HELP ME IF I EVER BUY ANOTHER APPLE AGAIN.