Milk Puke

Wow, Yahoo! mail is really making me angry. About a month ago my husband's email was hacked into. Then two weeks ago mine was hacked. That was such a mess because I completely forgot all of my Facebook contacts had been added to my Email list. So about 400+ people received spam email from me. And you know that even though I posted on Facebook that Yes, my email was hacked so if you receive an email from me don't open, blahblahblah. I still had people posting on my wall " Hey, I got a really weird email from you...." UGH.
Then last night I tried to log in to check out some houses my husband sent to me, and it's telling me that I don't have the correct password to enter. Um, I just checked my mail an hour ago, how did it change? And instead of going to easy way and just putting in my recovery email, I decided to do the 2 questions. What city were you born in and what was the make of your first car. Aced the first one, the second one wouldn't take my friggin answer.
So yeah, locked out of my account for 12 hours. This morning I just put in my recovery email and I was set. I think I am changing my email account though.

The awesome thing about having more than one child, and by awesome I mean horrible, is that when one of your kids is sick at night and is up until 5 am throwing up....the other kid is up at the butt crack of dawn and ready to rule the world. Meanwhile, you're face down in your pillow asking God why he's punishing you when you waved that lady through the stop sign yesterday even though it was clearly your turn. Even if my husband had been home, and not in Seattle, I probably would have only woken him up twice to help me though the night. Beans was pretty sick. At 11 o'clock on the dot he woke up gagging. And it wasn't just puke...it was Milk throw up. Which is the absolute worse. I started gagging immediately, and at the same time Beans is still heaving. It sounded like we were having a contest to see who could gag the most.
WORST.SMELL.EVER.

I don't even know why I bothered changing his bed so many times. By the end of the night, he was so tired that he would dry heave and fall asleep. Then dry heave again and go right back to bed. He ended up in shorts, a t-shirt and no blankets under him. I just couldn't keep going up and down the steps with dirty/clean laundry. He was fine. Both of the boys refuse to sleep with blankets. Like their father, they are ovens. They sweat profusely, even without blankies.

I'm glad we are done with house showings because I am doing nothing today.