The kind of morning that should earn a mother medals

Today has been a very nice day, but at the beginning of it, I was quite sure that it was going to be a truly frightful Friday the 13th.
It started out with me going to bed entirely too late. Way, way, way too late - around 2 a.m. I used to be able to do that in the days of my youth. Uh... now... not so much.
It proceded with Annalivia waking up at 5:15 a.m. This, was, of course, entirely too early for her to wake up and she was traumatized. She stood in the hallway outside of her bedroom and yelped for me to come and get her some milk which her father had forgotten to put out for her on his way out the door. Since the parsonage is a ranch style house with the three bedrooms all situated within three feet of one another, this meant she was standing outside MY bedroom door yelling for me to help her get milk.
I got out of bed groggily, but quickly because Daniel had managed to sleep in his own bedroom in his own crib instead of the co-sleeper in our room for the entire evening. And since, as I mentioned, the ranch style parsonage has three bedrooms within three feet of each other, Annalivia standing and yelling outside her bedroom meant that not only was she also outside MY bedroom, but she was also outside Daniel's room.
So. I took her out to get milk in her sippy cup and found that all the sippy cups were in various stages of undress. Since my wrist is broken and casted, it has been up to Dennis to not only do laundry as per our premarital agreement, but also do dishes (my part of our premarital agreement) and since said ranch style parsonage does not have a dishwasher, this is a job of constant demand. He has also had to bathe the kids entirely himself and parent them into bed since I've been at Bible School all week. AND he's had to get up at 4 to be at work by 5:30 so that he can build up some extra hours to take care of me after my next surgery. Oh, and since it is Friday, he had to put out the trash and recycling. So, needless to say, the poor man was exhausted last night and went to bed without doing dishes and then was unable to do them in the morning.
All of which meant that I had to wash the sippy cup with one hand, which was excruciatingly slow for poor, sleep-deprived Annalivia. So she began weeping. Loudly.
When I produced the milk she was momentarily placated. Then I looked at the clock and figured out what time it was -- too darn early to be awake and told her she had to go back to bed. And because it was too darn early to be awake, she began weeping. Loudly.
I got her to sob quietly and we headed in to go to bed in my room. But she climbed in the bed a little too enthusiastically and bonked her head on the headboard and began weeping again. Loudly.
By this time Daniel was stirring so I had to get him out of the crib and bring him to bed and my momentary absence as I walked the 20 feet to Daniel's room to get him out of the crib was the final straw for Annalivia. She was inconsolable and in her grief, moved to my pillow and took my spot in the bed so when I came back in the room with her baby brother and found myself allotted about 10 inches of space in the king-sized bed, I asked her to scoot over. Which again broke her little heart.
So. By this time, Daniel was awake and crying. Annalivia was distraught and had managed to scoot over and give me about a foot of room. Then I laid down on the bed and her hand was under me and though I know she was not harmed, she was deeply disturbed and cried harder.
So there I lay between a weeping toddler pressed into my back and a crying infant in my arms. I sang to them both, got them calmed down and they both began to get sleepy.
Then the freezing cold sippy cup lodged itself into my back.
But I was SO tired and punky myself that I just let it stay there. And by the time we all woke up at 8:30, there was a big wet spot of milk in the bed. But we had slept and after a morning like today's, an excuse for clean sheets tonight is its own reward.