So, the last couple days have been less than quiet around here. In case you think it’s always all peaches and roses in the Schwab household, think again.

It all started Saturday. We’ve been cleaning and getting ready for our boys’ grad party in a couple weeks. I was washing windows and there is this one window in the kitchen that we can’t ever get open to clean. I’ve wanted to replace it for… well… since we moved in. So I mentioned to Andrew that I’d love it if he fixed it or replaced it.

Before I knew it, he was driving to Lamperts for a new window. I didn’t really expect it to happen that minute, but, hey, I got my new window. I only had to ask for five years too!

I wasn’t feeling great that day and the heat was too much for me so I didn’t do much except clean up after him as he installed.

Sunday morning began with kids throwing up. That was less than fun. I felt worse too so we laid around the house watching movies most of the day.

So far, the two sick were hitting their buckets.

Enter two new sick kids at 2:30am…

When someone vomits on the floor of a 120 year old attic, well, let’s just say those floor boards don’t fit tightly together. Mopping in 1/8 inch cracks at 2:30 in the morning isn’t exactly what I’d call fun.

This morning we added a new kid to the mix. And if cleaning puke from the floor cracks wasn’t enough, enter the couch. (If anyone wants to fund a new TV room set, we’d accept) It’s been exciting, let me tell you.

Because I didn’t feel good this weekend the house went to pot. Every corner was piled, the laundry looked like the Eiffel Tower, and the bathrooms were gross, to say the least.

I started cleaning and running laundry through trying to catch up. As Elliot and I were finishing up the second bathroom there was a very loud crashing sound and screaming. I ran around the corner to see Maddie holding Lukas, who was crying.

“He fell down the stairs. Oh, and I threw up on the bathroom floor upstairs.”

At this point I kind of couldn’t believe it myself. But, you can’t make this stuff up. You really can’t.

I calmed the crying child with some cuddles, arnica, and water. Meanwhile I kept thinking of the bathroom. I’m not sure if I was a little delusional at this point or what, but I really thought it couldn’t be that bad. For some crazy reason I really thought maybe I needed to just wipe up a little miss or that maybe she had wiped it up already and I’d need to just check.

You’d think that by the time you have 11 children, you’d always expect the worst, but, no. No, I don’t.

I grabbed a washcloth from the downstairs bathroom… that I had just finished cleaning and headed upstairs. About four steps up the smell hit me.

About ten steps up I could see into the bathroom.

I stopped at the top and looked at the rag in my hand and just laughed. There’s no way that rag was going to do any good. Kind of like bringing a broom to a tornado path.

Enter half a roll of paper towels and a scalding hot mop bucket.

Oh, and if you think that went off without a hitch, think again. I filled the mop bucket with hot water and floor cleaner, or so I thought. As I tipped the bottle into the bucket I realized I had grabbed the oatmeal conditioning dog shampoo. No lie.

By the time the bathroom was cleaned… for the second time…all I could do was say “Jesus, be my strength.” I had none left.

And, if that climax wasn’t enough, I got a “why don’t you kick my dog while you’re here” moment to cap it all off.

As I went to dump the mop bucket out it tipped the wrong direction. Yep. You guessed it. Scalding hot puke water on the legs and feet. I mean, really?!

I’m going to go shower now. And hope for a better day tomorrow.