Birthday Party Bust

So, as you know from here, the little man turned one last week. And after much debate, I had decided to throw a party.

I sent out the evite (complete with corny poem). 22 adults and 8 kiddos were coming over. I planned the menu, bought the food, ordered the supplies for the party favors, had the house cleaned, had the lawn gussied up, welcomed the in-laws after an 11 plus hour drive from Chicago and may or may not have obsessively hunted down a pair of boots on ebay to wear to the party along with buying new skinny jeans, but I won't admit anything. (What, you thought the baby turning one was about him? No, no. It's about celebrating the fact that a year prior I pushed an 8 pound kid out of my you-know-what and lived to tell about it. Really, birthdays should be about the mother, not the kid. Also, it's about celebrating the milestone of making it as parents for a full year without royally screwing up. There's still plenty of time for that.)

So, Friday night before the party I was sitting on the couch decorating the sippy cup party favors when I suddenly stood up and proclaimed to the room, "I think I'm going to throw up."  Sure enough, I was suddenly hit with the stomach flu. It was ugly. Turned out my mom had it too after spending Thursday afternoon watching Lukas. He was the carrier. Damn daycare bug. First thing Saturday morning, I made the decision to call off the party planned for that afternoon. I figured no one else need to suffer through the hell that had been my Friday night. So in the end, the Lukas' first birthday party didn't happen.

Mr. Cob wanted to somewhat salvage the day, so we still had a mini party with his parents - I slept on and off in my sweat pants on the couch, Mr. Cob made the chili, Grandma Kae made the dip and Lukas thoroughly enjoyed his frosting cake. After turning himself green, Mr. Cob and I gave Lukas a bath before bed and all was going well, when suddenly Mr. Cob yelled "what IS that!?!". I look over and Lukas was holding a big turd in his hand. Yup, he pooped in the tub. Sigh. We cleaned him up, sanitized the tub and all his toys, put Lukas to bed and then I took a sleeping pill and tucked myself into bed. Three hours later I woke up to a noise coming through the monitor. I turned the video on and saw Lukas standing up in bed, not crying or really doing anything at all. So I drowsily walked downstairs, opened his door and instantly knew from the stench: he threw up. Green vomit was EVERYWHERE. Double sigh. So I spent the next hour cleaning and doing more laundry and then didn't sleep another wink fearful of Lukas throwing up in his sleep again. Sunday morning he was fine, and happy as a peach. I was exhausted. Thankfully Mr. Cob never got the flu (we practically quarantined him since he had a big jury trial in Federal court starting the following Monday that he was trying all by himself and could not afford to get sick), and the grandparents seemed to be out of the woods when they left Tuesday morning. Turns out they're weren't and the flu had a delayed response time. They both were sick by Tuesday evening.

So, yea, Lukas' first birthday didn't exactly turn out as planned.

Maybe next year....