Isaiah’s getting over a stuffy nose and cold.  I woke up with a sore throat and slept the whole day.  Nick went to bed a half hour ago reporting, “Man, I just feel like crap.”

His descriptions are wondrously succinct.

So, 1-2-3 sickheads in the house.  And Isaiah is the healthiest one of us.  Not good.

We were in Russia over the weekend celebrating Thanksgiving and OSU football with Nick’s family and poor Isaiah was battling a cold.  We did our best, but the worst came Sunday night when he couldn’t sleep unless he was being held.  While I was severely sleep deprived myself and was having delusions of a good night’s rest, I still couldn’t help but think of how adorable the little Peach was in my arms.  He cried if he was even touching the mattress – he had to be completely held the whole time.

For the first time since he was a newborn, I laid on my back and let him sleep on my chest.  It wasn’t as comfortable as I remembered.  I guess ten pounds on your chest isn’t as bad as a 23 pounder digging his face into your lungs.  Poor little angel.

But it was Nick who gathered Isaiah up and held him for hours in the rocker so I could get a few hours of sleep.  I woke up sick.

Awesome.

And we’re up against deadlines.  Me for magazines and work.  Nick for school and work.  And somewhere in the middle of this, the domestic duties of laundry and dishes and sweeping and cleaning STILL need to get done.  Can you believe that these things don’t happen on their own. Like, it really *doesn’t* help when I stand in the middle of the kitchen and holler at the floors, “I JUST CLEANED YOU LAST WEEK.  HOW ARE YOU SO FILTHY?  CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELVES!”

PSST!  Let me tell you a secret: housework is never over.  You have to keep doing it yourself.

And in the middle of this craziness, I am eyeing our naked mantel and wondering when I’ll have the energy to find our Christmas decorations and hassle Nick for the 6 year in a row that he doesn’t have a decent stocking.  We can’t move through Advent, the season of hope and spiritual rejuvenation, without appropriately decorated mantels!  I mean, seriously, who are you kidding?

Tomorrow is December 1.

And I keep looking over my shoulder, wondering where October escaped to and how it did so quickly…