Magic Vomit-Away Cleaners!

I am quite aware that the next thing I was supposed to post was the Guinness crock pot brisket. I'm totally gonna get to that. But we've been sick.

This family doesn't get colds. Oh no! Not a simple little case of the sniffles. When we get sick, we do it in an epic way. We get the plague. Bear, for instance, rarely gets a head cold. But she HAS had an intestinal parasite, mono (which caused hepatitis and jaundice), and has a tendency toward recurrent staph and MRSA. TMI? Sorry.

We have, as a family of five, had a horrendous vomiting virus. This comes immediately after both the older kids had a recent bout with strep. Roo came through that unscathed (and, honestly hasn't had more than a runny nose in her almost-eight months) but she caught this one in a big way.

I thought it was her new food of beans, which Wes totally thanked me for when he changed her diaper, but, no. Wes and I, as a couple, spent quality time together hanging out with the porcelain god, being truly sexy to one another. As a side note, it will be a LONG TIME before we eat Swiss steak again. The next morning, true to fashion, I spent no time alone in the bathroom, with my personal cheerleader, Monkey, right along side me as I was on all fours in the bathroom floor.

"Mommy? You doing?"
"I'm sick."
"You throw up?"
"Yes."
HEAVE
"Good JOB, Mommy!!"
HEAVE
"Good JOB!"
HEAVE
"Good JOB, Mommy!"
...continue in similar vein...

So, I was the idiot who got better when everyone else got sick. Wes has managed to conjure up an infected toe and knee, so he was useless. Therefore, I was one to be vomited upon, spit upon, peed upon... I truly believe that the difference between moms and other humans is the natural reaction to cup your hands and hold them in front of a child vomiting...or not. I do. FML.

Regardless, my carpet has absorbed a ridiculous amount of vomit in the past few days. Add that to the fact that our neurotic cat, Adso, has decided that the kids' bathroom is her own carpeted litter box, and it became necessary to CLEAN OUR CARPETS.

That was today's task. So my carpet cleaner came with a detergent, but I've found that most carpet detergents leave behind a film which actually ATTRACTS dirt. I guess, if you're a Dirt Devil CEO, that's a good thing. I'm not. I'm a mom. A rather lazy mom who despises the smell of cat piss, vomit, and the act of carpet cleaning. So I began my Pinterest search for a magic carpet cleaner machine solution that would solve all my problems. I got nada.

Bitches, I came up with my own.

The solution reservoir on my Dirt Devil holds *about* a gallon (??). So I used 2 cups of vinegar, 3/4 cup of peroxide, and a few drops of lavender essential oil (in a grapeseed carrier). I filled up the rest with hot (reeeeally hot) water. Before I began, I sprinkled the carpet with baking soda. I know baking soda is the miracle cure, but I didn't really want to make a science experiment volcano in the machine's reservoir.

That shit is awesome. I shall now commence to slap myself a high five. It's like liking your own Facebook status....

So after two hours of meticulous carpet cleaning, I could still, with my bloodhound nose (my kids will NEVER be able to smoke pot and get away with it) smell cat pee. I hate that damn hairless cat. I rue the day I rescued her.

So I had to make a carpet freshener. And, of course, I had to wait til the carpet was dry to apply it. That gave me time to play, AHEM, search diligently for a carpet freshener recipe on Pinterest. Good deal.

I mixed a cup of baking soda with the recommended 20 drops .... I lie. I overdo everything. I used more like thirty drops of lavender essential oil, which I happen to have on hand from News-Muz, and spent the next thirty minutes whisking the shit out of it. Poured that mess in a Parmesan cheese container and sprinkled it generously about the kids' bathroom.

Vacuum. Amen.

Omg.

Magic. Lavender. Awesomeness.

Again....

You're welcome.

Mucus Monsters Roam the Halls

All three of my kids have been fighting off colds for weeks. I've tried homeopathic remedies and the like, but Monkey finally succumbed to all the mucus that had inundated his head. He started running a fever and I didn't give him anything for it because it wasn't that high and I figure the body is fighting something, better let it do its job.

Let me just say: he is sooooo sweet when he's sick. This is a red-headed three-year-old who is running at full-throttle 12 hours a day. So it was nice for him to just want to snugs and cuddle with mommy. But I ended up taking him to the doctor.

Is this not the most pitiful picture you have EVER seen??

I'd just like to know who made the rule that if kids are deathly ill at home, they will be just fine and dandy when they get to the doctor? I always look like that worry-wart mother that takes her kids in if they sneeze once. By the time we get there, he is playing and talking and not running a fever at all. I have been assured that it's not just my kids who do this.

But he was legitimately sick. Sinus and double ear infection. Gross. He had so much mucus in his head that it was literally coming out his eyes. Yeah. So they put him on antibiotics (I try to avoid them, but, man, when they are needed, by God, they are needed).

 So Monkey is on his way to recovery. Go team!

Naturally, I get sick. It had been coming on all week, but the cough turned into a lung shutdown. Gasping for breath is not high on my list of things to do while being clobbered by children. And when a 35 pound three-year-old wants to be held constantly, it starts to take its toll. By Friday night Monkey was feeling better and I had almost lost my voice. So while he is jumping off the coffee table over and over (and over and over and over...) I'm laying on the couch nursing Roo, so I can't get up, and I can't even make myself heard because my voice is almost gone.

stop, pleeeease *cough cough* stoooop

I have adorable brochitis. They said it's acute, but I think adorable sounds better. Apparently it was almost pneumonia. Sigh. Sometimes you just can't fight off the germs, no matter how hard you try. On the plus side, Monkey is back to his old self.

By the next morning...

Well, almost.

Crying for daddy. Can't win em all.