I had one of those funny mom moments on Tuesday that I possibly shouldn't share with you, but will anyway.

So I'm sitting on my bed with Dorien snuggled close, nursing him to sleep for his afternoon nap.  And I'm reading my book and enjoying this time of just being still and snuggling with my baby.

And then I hear this little voice calling me from the bathroom in the hallway..

"Mommy! I pooped! I'm done!! I need you!!!" This was August - and he needed some wiping help.

I cover Dorien's ears to keep from jolting him awake and reply, "August, is there any way you can do it yourself? Dorien is asleep and nursing!"

August replies, "NOO!! I'm done!!!" (in other words, come here and help me!)

Just then, I hear B from my bathroom: "Mommy! I pooped and I'm done!" (and she needs wiping help)

Are you kidding me? I said, "B, you're 5, almost 6. It's time you gained some confidence in this area! Do it yourself!"

B lapses into wails and moans and I can just picture her slumped over on the potty, hands dragging the floor in despair as she stubbornly refuses to do it herself.

This goes on for several minutes. There is no way I'm moving while Dorien is in that mostly asleep area, but not completely asleep. Because then he'll be UP up.

Meanwhile, I text Kyle and lament to him my plight. He's with me - get those kids to do it themselves! Yeah, in theory that is fantastic. Absolutely ideal.

Sigh. After giving both my children ample time to really develop a good solid "ring around the rump", I eventually extricate myself from my sleeping boy and go take care of business.  There are moments when I just really wish...I don't know...something!

If there is one thing of which I am absolutely certain, it is that when the crazy hits - it will not be at 10:30 in the morning, or 2 in the afternoon, or at some other reasonable hour. It will be between the extremely unreasonable hours of 2 and 4 am.

When my kids (and yours too) get sick, when their fevers shoot sky high, when they start hacking and can't stop and vomit all over you and your clean sheets, when their breathing gets labored, when you end up running to the ER, those things always rip you out of a deep sleep at 2 am, tear your night to shreds and leave you haggard, disgruntled and exhausted the next morning - delirious for a cup of strong hot coffee.

I'm not saying all those things happened last night, but some did.

I get that this is the beginning of sick season. And that having kids just exposes you to more gunk than the ordinary gunk exposure. What do you expect when your kids (Dorien) are gnawing on the handle bars of shopping carts? I am not yet that mom who slips in a complete seat cover to protect my children from all those nasty germs. For starters, that would just be one more thing to lug around. Ix-nay on at-thay.

So after a few weeks of juggling viruses with August, Brooklyn and myself, Dorien latches on firmly to a nasty  cold. Snot streaming down his face continually, beginnings of a wet cough where you just want to spit up that stuff for him! And yep, at 2 in the morning, I felt something amiss, sat upright in my bed and felt Dorien. He was burning up and breathing funny. I sprang out of bed, grabbed my trusty ear thermometer and it read 101.3. I ran to get Kyle from August's room (crazy nights usually begin with a wigging out kiddo) and had him sit with Dorien who was wracked with coughing spells while I popped in my contacts, brushed my teeth and threw on clothes. I was about 2 seconds from calling my dad to come over and sit with my other sleeping kids while we took Dorien to the ER.  His breathing was funny, very shallow and fast, although not wheezing or retracting. And his fever quickly climbed to 102.9. And we had no baby Motrin in the house. Criminy.

There is a moment in those moments at which a chill runs through your blood and you know - we gotta get to the ER. I was on the verge of that moment, but not QUITE there yet.  What I did was examine the tiny drops of infant Tylenol just out of reach from the dropper at the bottom of the bottle. I tried to pry the little plastic guard out with my teeth to access those last drops. I was unsuccessful.

So I sent Kyle to Kroger to get some baby Motrin, set up humidifiers and vaporizers, monitored his breathing, temp and prayed.  And I tried to sleep the rest of the night with my face right next to Dorien's and my hand on his belly to make sure it was still rising and falling with regularity.

And we made it. But I am exhausted this morning. I slept so lightly during the remaining morning hours that I might as well have been awake.

And I found it hilarious this morning that Dorien woke up right on schedule at 9:30 like nothing had happened. And I was so sleepy it HURT!

I also found it hilarious that the first words out of Brooklyn's mouth this morning when she moseyed down the hall into our bedroom was this:  "I decided which Barbie I want  for Christmas. The dolphin trainer Barbie." As of last evening at Target, it was a toss-up between Dolphin Trainer and Vet Barbie. Kyle and I tried to convince her that Computer Engineer Barbie was just as cool (I kid you not), but she's no dummy.

And just cause crazy lingers on in the morning, Kyle and I got a good 15 minutes of "stand-up" comedy from tormenting our daughter - telling her we'd already bought her Entomologist Barbie or Lion Trainer Barbie or Hippo Wrangler Barbie or Trash-Man Barbie...

It's also worth mentioning that the 2:30 am crowd at Kroger is a bizarre one, according to Kyle.  There were the mid-40's tattooed meth-addict looking men, the three people attempting a self-check out with a red, green and orange bell pepper...late night omelet perhaps? Just another dose of crazy.

Oh, and my best guess on Baby D? RSV.