I'm a bad person because I slept an extra hour this morning. Normally, I wake up at 6:10, lounge in bed for ten minutes a snuggle with whomever is around, then leave for school around 7 o'clock. This way, I can practice for a half hour or so before the start of the school day. Today? Nope. Woke up at 7, ate a quick breakfast and was at school at 7:50.
Granted, I did help out (about 3% of the work to prepare The Boy) with getting The Boy ready for treatment. Being more specific, I took his pajamas and diaper off and helped my wife put the disposable diaper on him. That was pretty much it. We do have this down to a science, though: she wakes, showers & stuff, which I watch The Boy, then she loads the car, we get him dressed, and they leave. Then I go back to sleep.
Last night was a struggle. It was one of those nights where he was NOT going to sleep in his bed. We tried, we really did: even together, reading him a book or two and giving him lots of snuggles, he still screamed and fussed and bolted for the door at every opportunity. Considering that he's in the middle of radiation and not feeling well, and considering that he had a major meltdown earlier in the evening due to a combination of radiation feeling-crappy, bleeding diaper rash, and teething, we decided that discretion was the better part of valor.
Why fight him? Why force him to stay in his room, crying and screaming and frantic? It's kind of cruel. The Boy has to deal with enough crap in his life. Who are we to force more upon him? We were both exhausted, so we went to bed at 9:00 with The Boy. Well, 9:30 - I played a half hour of Rock Band.
Today he had radiation and a pediatrician 18-month checkup. (Ha!) 33 inches long, 24 pounds. We knew that already, considering he gets weighed and measured twice per week or so. I'm hoping The Boy will nap with me this afternoon - I >really< need to sleep a bit before the rehearsal tonight.