Nightmare in Brussels Part I.

Remember the days were I used to brag about Evans going to sleep at 7:30pm and sleeping until 10:00am?  About how I am always so well rested and can't understand how some Mom's always claim to be run down and worn out? (ok, well that last statement might be an exaggeration) I believe the glory days are over.  Or at least on an extended hiatus.  I always spend plenty of time worrying when we head to the States and then back again that the jet lag is going to ruin us.  Thankfully on the way there this vacation it was a piece of cake.  Coming home?  Not so much.  After night two of midnight play dates I decided it was time for the cry it out approach since we had been operating on European time for 48 hours.  I realize that this is controversial with some people but we have used it several times in the past and after the first night of hell, my fabulous sleeper typically returns.  To date, we are on night NINE, and still experiencing massive issues.  Evans is relentless.  The screaming can endure for an eternity.  The kind of screaming that provokes shaken baby syndrome, if you still had an infant.  To top off this catastrophe, we are in an apartment in Brussels for the next five nights. I'm pretty much staring at 5 nights together in a single bed with my two year old if I want anyone in our building to sleep.  Evans will instantly fall asleep if Deaner or I am holding him and sitting in the den.  As soon as we even begin to walk towards the back of the house he starts to freak out and point to the den.  Sigh.  Why did I agree to come on this business trip again?  Oh yeah, because if I hadn't, I'd be sitting at home alone for the next five nights listening to the crying.  I'm starting to lose faith and since Deaner announced earlier that "things were never going to be the same again" (a bit drastic I'd say) I think he is losing faith as well.

So, I wrote this post yesterday at the height of my stress and fear of no sleeping.  Evans took about 20 minutes to cry it out and fall asleep.  Miraculously, he slept all night.  I was so instantly relieved that I was lured into a false sense of security because shortly after Deaner put Evans in bed with us at 8am, he threw up on me.  Upon further inspection I have deduced that he threw up three other time in his pack n play as well.  Anyone who knows me knows how I feel about throw up.  And it isn't good.

We have pretty much spent the day doing this.  After our morning "episode" we haven't had anymore throwing up, thank God, but it is pretty clear Evans isn't feeling his best.  And yes, his feet are black.  Don't judge, this apartment has all hard wood floors and it's either get black feet or black socks.

At least Daddy was able to finish work up early and be home by 3:30p.  Now the real decision making starts.  To venture out or stay cooped up, that is the question.  Please pray for another smooth night AND zero morning barfing!