nobody does it quite like mama

Nothing puts a damper on your Christmas spirit than a good ol stomach bug.
It hit me yesterday afternoon, and we're still not sure if it was sickness or if I ate something bad. Does it matter? When you feel that awful (I was going to use another word, but it suddenly seemed extra inappropriate), you want whatever it is to just go away.

Fortunately, Brad had last night off of work. SUCH great timing. He was able to take over Noah duty, while I was busy being sick and trying to sleep. He would come in every now and then to see if I needed anything. I asked for water, just to make sure I didn't get dehydrated... obviously, he got busy. TWO HOURS later, he comes shuffling in with a big glass of water, apologizes, then leaves.

I would randomly wake up, hear what was going on outside our bedroom door, and check the time. I instinctively knew Noah hadn't gotten a bath. It was late, and he wasn't going to sleep. I felt terrible, because I just knew he was waiting for mommy to give him a bath and put him to bed. I explained to Brad that Noah wasn't going to go to bed until he had a bath. So around 11 last night, Noah was finally clean.
I made Brad sleep on the couch in our loft (we have an extra bed in our guest room, but he didn't feel like cleaning off all of the randomness... wrapping paper, gifts, decorations, etc). I just get so incredibly worried about him whenever I get sick. His immune system has a hard time fighting stuff off, and I was worried he'd catch it. And anything he catches tends to turn into a trip to the ER.

Brad filled me in on everything this morning. Noah didn't go to bed until almost 1:30am. And then woke up at 8:20 this morning. Yeah. You parents out there know that's not enough sleep, at all.
Noah was perfectly happy, but I think the whole ordeal really threw him for a loop. Plus, I heard Brad talking on the phone around that time, so I'm pretty sure Noah heard him too and woke up.
Needless to say, we all took a good 3+ hour nap today.

Around 11am, I finally emerged from the sick room.
Before I say anything, I need to preface with how incredibly awesome my husband is for completely taking over. He took care of me and Noah, and did so without a complaint. He's incredibly sweet, and he kept Noah alive for the night. That's all I ask. Just keep my baby alive until I'm well again. If you do that, it's been a success.
So I emerged from the room, took one good look around, and I'm honestly not sure what happened in this house. What in the world they did to cause such a disaster, I don't know. There were random plates with dried peas. Towels on the floor (turns out Noah spilled Brad's Cheerwine... hey, I'm just thankful I haven't seen a stain yet). Toys everywhere. Diapers. Everywhere. I went into Noah's bathroom... two diapers in the bathtub. Really?? Did he change Noah in the tub?? Twice?
Went downstairs. Clothes. Dishes. Eggshells on the stove.
It was enough to make my head spin.
I went back to bed.

Instead of freaking, I decided to take it as a compliment.
Because I'm somehow able to do it all. Dishes, laundry, bath time, bed time, play time, more dishes, more laundry, trash getting taken out, checking the mail, ordering gifts, writing Christmas letters, putting away toys, breakfast/lunch/dinner, beds made, bathrooms cleaned, floors vacuumed and mopped, and bed before midnight. In one night, my house fell apart (Lord help me if I have another boy next...). In a matter of 2-3 hours, I restored some kind of order to it. And got my Christmas cards all put together and one last gift purchased.
Yes, I know. Pin a rose on my nose. Moms (and dads) do it every day.
But it was nice to see I'm needed. I mean, I know I am, but I think seeing your entire home decaying before your very eyes after one night of neglect... yeah, big ego boost.

So right now, I'm attempting to get Noah to fall asleep. I can hear him tossing and turning and wishing I'd come get him. I might. I mean, this is a good 2 hours early compared to last night. But for now? I'm trying to get things back on track.