Sleep, interrupted

Well, I do have a teething nine-month-old; my sleep is interrupted pretty frequently. The most recent interruption, however, was more dramatic than usual.

A while back, Boy Wonder woke up in the middle of the night with an attack of croup. Early this morning, it was Baby Boone's turn. I woke at 3:00 to the sounds of a greatly distressed infant, screaming his little heart out and coughing like a little barking seal in between screams. To add to the indignity, he was soaking wet. He was mightily upset when I put him down to go secure a fresh diaper and some dry pajamas, but calmed down a bit once he was warm, dry, and fed. A breathalyzer* treatment was given, and the cough returned to being a normal cough instead of a croupy one. I took him back to our bed, since it was 3:35 and I couldn't muster the energy to go change the wet sheets in his crib. He was briefly quite energetic, wanting to pat Daddy's face and babble at me in a whisper, but was soon lulled back to sleep.

Yawn.

*Sane people call these nebulizer treatments: asthma medication is put into a little plastic thingie and then converted to a fine mist that small children can inhale easily. However, one day when Boy Wonder was small and wheezy, my dad said, "Will he need a breathalyzer treatment while he's at our house? Wait, I mean a...." Too much NYPD Blue, perhaps? But lo, the name stuck, so my kids get breathalyzer treatments.