I went to bed when Ian did last night around 9pm. I didn't feel so hot and was already mentally planning for how I would deal with my work obligations the next day. "If I set up the server and make and outline, maybe I can get Stephanie to give my presentation for me tomorrow afternoon. Or maybe if I go to bed now, I'll have the strength to rally for 45 minutes via Webex." As I curled up under the blankets I thought, "as least if I feel this bad tomorrow I won't have to pack Ian's lunch. Rich can do that."

Fast forward a few hours to Rich coming to bed saying he didn't feel so hot. I was super asleep so I think my reaction was along the lines of "uh huh, yeahzzzzz". But at 2:30am he reiterated that he was indeed about to die. We got up and got him into the shower, hoping the hot water would help. I asked him if he wanted a giant glass of water and he said, "yeah, that sounds good."

Just then, Ian piped up from the bed, "I want water too!" Sigh. Yeah, I'll get you water too. "I wanna come!" Fine, I'll carry all 32.5 pounds of you downstairs to the kitchen at 3am for water. "I want juice." Fine. "I want Lightning McQueen cup." Fine.

By the time I carted all 32.5lb of him plus a giant glass of water plus a Lightning McQueen novelty cup of apple juice, I was definitely feeling weary. But we dug out the heating pad for Rich and he drank his water and Ian drank his juice and somehow we all managed to get back to sleep.

7am rolled around and Rich was certainly not going anywhere. So since I no longer felt at Death's door but perhaps just in Death's zip code, I dragged myself out of bed, packed Ian's diapers since Rich was too sick, dressed our son, dressed myself and ignored the state of my hair in favor of a ponytail. And I packed Ian's lunch afterall.

Since Rich still felt bad after our presentations this afternoon, he went home to sleep. So I picked up Ian after work and took him for dinner and out to play and then packed his lunch for tomorrow and set out his clothes for picture day and started his diapers in the wash (which won't be ready for the dryer until 11:30 tonight by my estimate). Ian was "good as gold" (as my mother says) the whole time, so that was a relief, but it's still tiring.

And there's still work stuff I have to do. This. This is one of the reasons I haven't been blogging lately.

I do feel bad for Rich because he is pretty sick and feels worse than I do. But there was a part of me that wanted to stomp my feet and say "No fair! I was sick first! Quit hogging all the sick!"

But I'll just go start the diapers on their second cycle and tuck my husband in on the couch before I finally get a shower to improve the situation with my hair.