Let Me Count The Ways...

My husband loves me. And it's gonna take a while to build up to it, so I give you permission to skip to the end IF you promise to go back and read it later. I've got my eye on you.

So, he loves me.
I know, it should be obvious. He married me, I bore him a son to mess with and teach all his weird ways to torment me and my family with, yadda yadda yadda.
But the past 24 hours have just been amazing to me.
We woke up early and started cleaning the house together before the gas and electric company's representative came over to make sure our a/c was functioning in top condition for summer (to save money, woot!). We were doing really well, and Tigger wasn't being too much in the way, until he was. And I was exhausted and couldn't bend anymore. And our dishwasher was proving to not actually be cleaning anything. 
So I did my best with Tigger (who was our reason for the earliness of our rising. 515am is NOT OK!), trying to keep him entertained and out of the way while still remaining actively helpful in a cleaning capacity (unsuccessfully) and watching Pooh try not to lose it as Tigger tromped through and played in his dirt pile.
Oh Dude came and went, and Tigger and I napped for two hours (yikes!). It was glorious, and the standard length of his morning nap. Pooh had washed dishes, swept the living room, replaced our couch back against the wall (we have a very long living room, so when we watch a movie, we pull it waaaaay up closer to the tv), put away all Tigger's toys, hung up and taken down laundry.
Then we ran to the store to get diapers (because we kept forgetting we were out) and dishwasher cleaner ("maybe it's just gunky, and not actually a piece of junk?") and grabbed lunch while we were out because we completely missed lunch because, let's be honest here. Yeah.
Then my visiting teacher and her son came over - as previously arranged - to help clean/watch my kid so we could clean. This is something Pooh had asked me to cancel and I honestly kept forgetting to do. Turned out to be very helpful (I thought) since he got to talk scouting to people involved but not resistant to him and help an aspiring Eagle figure out what and how to get his stuff done.
So we got even more stuff done, like 3-4 loads of laundry folded and dishes washed, kitchen swept and mopped, and the whole time Pooh was down-right pleasant for going through something he'd been asking me to cancel. 
And before you say something like "why on earth would he be upset about people helping clean?", it's one thing to have family help clean and asking you where everything goes, and another to have someone who is a virtual stranger to you doing the same. I get it. I'm just beyond caring that someone else is cleaning my space. It needs doing and I can't do it, so I'm cool.
Anywho, so the day progressed and I honestly can't remember what else we did (scary!), but we went to bed a bit on the late side, like, closer to 11 than I like to, and I struggled for the next 2 hours with being hot and feeling like little bugs were landing on me. Not biting. Just landing. It was driving me batty!
So I just gave up at 130 and surfed the interwebs until 5 when I crawled back into bed completely exhausted but not even remotely falling asleep (curse you, pregnancy! Stop making my body and my brain team up to thwart my sleep; it's RUDE!) Eventually I must have because Pooh brings in Tigger and I look at the clock and it's 645. They go to the living room, and the next thing I know it's an hour later and Pooh made me soft-boiled eggs and english muffin!!!
He brings them to me in bed and announces he's taking Tigger and going to JoAnn's to get fabric for scout neckerchiefs, so I should just relax and enjoy my breakfast. In bed.
Er go, he loves me.