What a week! I mean, if you can measure the difficulty of a girl's week, by the damage done to the carpet... you'd get a very good idea of the week that I've had.
Flooding and water damage? Real bad.
Smoke or fire damage? The worst.
Arterial Blood Splatter? Yikes.
But if you are talking about a generally lousy sort of week, I think that red sploshes of Tropical Punch Kool-aide down the hallway ought to register as a "well, CRAAAAP!" sort of lousy. Apparently I was not getting dressed and into the kitchen to fetch Pearl her sippy of "juice" fast enough. She felt she needed to speed things up by bringing me the pitcher. Two weeks ago, I might notta freaked so bad, but I had just spent $149.95 getting the upstairs carpet cleaned. The upside is, I'm thinking that some of the enzyme that the cleaning fella had used on the carpet was still in there, because the red drips were already looking a little faded by the time I got the spot remover out to spray on the mess. After a good scrub, you cannot even see the trail Pearl left.
You can still see the two palm sized brown stains on the floor near her bed from last Tuesday Night's Festivities of Barf. And this is not to be confused with Monday Night's, Wednesday's, Thursday's, or Friday's Festivities. Seriously. Fun parties all. Today is, I hope, the Finale of Festivities. Last night, Saturday night, was all about waking up multiple times, but not puking. That was new. I'm thinking new is good. Only this morning, Pearl seems to be going for the Toddler's Trifecta of Nasty... The three P's of Unfortunate Stench.
Having taken care of the first "P," a.k.a. puke, with great efficiency earlier on in the week ( and on and on and ON), she has decided that she is in charge of removing her diaper herself whenever things get uncomfortable, i.e. whenever she has a load. Unfortunately she still has a spectacular case of the runs. The second "P" is poo, and the basement carpet has now been christened.
And I suppose that I should be proud of the fact that notwithstanding all the vomiting and diarrhea that she has suffered for almost a full week, due to my superior hydrating techniques via the Pedialyte, she had it in her to take care of the third "P" while she was down there as well.
A curious side note to this particular party that our youngest has been having, she only ever vomited at night... and almost exclusively during the hours of midnight to five am. So every day we would think that she was on the mend... and every night, whups! No sleep for YOU!
One notable exception: after an exhausted (sleep-deprivation for a pregnant lady is extra un-fun) trip to the doctors office where the guy just told me "yeah... sucks to be you, watch for dehydration." It was beyond my ability to make lunch, so I took the girls to the Drive Thru at a C@rls Jr. to get some happy meals, I discovered that one of the last places you want a two year old to start barfing is while strapped into a car seat, jammed next to her sister, first thing after getting into the drive-thru lunch line after another car has just pulled in behind you. As bad as I feel for Pearl, I almost feel worse for Birdie who got it in her hair and all down her shirt.
You are not interested in what it takes to clean up and limp home after such and experience. Not if you are sane.
Please let this be the end.
As I have no pictures that anyone would want to see this week, I have included the birthday cakes of the Chaos Girls that got missed during my blogging break.