It's a dirty job...but somebody's got to do it!

This is really, just too horrific not to share. and since plenty of you will be checking in today to see if the blog goes pink or blue, I'll share a little story to pass the time!

If you have a weak stomach, do not continue reading. Honestly. I post these warnings and you people don't believe me. like the disclaimer about posts being long...y'all read them and then come to me and say "that was long!" I warned you. Just like I'm warning you now. This is gross.

I read on some blog somewhere last year (nice and specific, huh?), about a contest that was going on for the dirtiest moments in motherhood. Dirtiest as in grossest. I read the top ten of the contest. A couple of them-eh-yucky, but not that off the wall. A couple of them had me feeling genuinely sorry for whoever had to deal with whatever gross thing it was. I think I had one of my grossest mothering moments last night.

This is your last warning.

After 6 kids, we've done countless gross things. I've been peed on, pooped on, puked on, snotted on, bled on, sometimes all in the same day. What can I say, it comes with the territory. So last night when Malia came wandering in shortly after midnight telling me she threw up, I went into auto-mode, going with her to the bathroom, getting her pukey pj's off and helping her into the shower while trying not to make the bathroom too gross. I ask her, reluctantly, if she happened to puke on her way upstairs. Thankfully the answer was no. Phew! I did not want to be scrubbing vomit off of the stairs that are currently not carpeted. Or off the carpet that is laying across the floor in most of the basement. Or off the concrete floor in the hallway downstairs that is not covered. Thank you Malia for not spreading the joy on your way up. She reassured me that it was all on her bed. And as I was making my way downstairs I heard "mom-I think Dallin is still sleeping in my bed." Apparently sometime in the night he decided he didn't want to sleep in his bed and wandered into his. Ok. Dallin was indeed still in Malia's bed. Laying on her pillow. In a pile of puke. Gag reflex experience #1. I pull him out of the puke and try to maneuver him off the bed and into my arms to carry him to the shower w/out dripping puke all over Alaina's bed, the floor, or myself. Gag reflex kicks in again. AFter getting Malia out of the shower, and getting Dallin in, I haul my exhausted pregnant hiney back downstairs (seriously-I do not want to see what the third trimester brings me this time!) and proceed to strip Malia's bed. I notice that she got some on the rails of her bed next to the wall, so I wipe as best possible with a pukey sheet and pillow and drag it all upstairs. Laundry in the middle of the night was not on my list, so I just piled it all on the laundry room floor to wait for Monday morning. Cause really, what better way to start the week than with bedding drenched in vomit? I proceed back to the bathroom to pull Dallin out of the shower (after I finish scrubbing throw up out of his hair) upon which he begins screaming because he does not want to get out. Fun. While trying to calm him down I realize that I didn't get him new pajamas. I then go digging through the basket of clean laundry stuffed behind the couch (you know, it's hiding from the view of the front door), trying to find him pj's. I end up with Cars pants and a soccer shirt. Whatever. It is clothing, it will cover him. No one will care what he wakes up wearing. I finally get Dallin dressed at which point Malia informs me that she needs to get back in the shower because she still has vomit behind and in her ear. Thank you for that visual. Enter the gag reflex.

By this time Aaron has been woken up by all the commotion (though thankfully Lincoln and Jacob stayed peacefully asleep across the hall), and comes in to see what in the world is going on in the bathroom in the middle of the night. Poor guy. I tried not to wake him as he gets up at 4am everyday. But hey-since he was up I put him on Dallin duty, which consisted of trying to get him to stop screaming (yes, he was still going), and back into his own bed. He insisted on Malia's bed, which obviously was not an option. Somehow Dad succeeded in getting him in bed. How, I don't know, and frankly I don't care. Malia, finally CLEAN, got out of the shower to inform me that she still needed clean pajamas. Back to the laundry hamper for round two. See-this is why I procrastinate folding laundry, it saved me two trips downstairs to their closests! Dug through and miracle of miracles found matching top and bottom for miss fashion conscious (but oddly, only when it comes to pajamas. go figure.), and got her dressed, pulled out some towels and made her a bed on the bathroom floor. Finally. Done. I then haul myself back to bed and proceed to crash.

But hey-on the bright side, last night was the first night in over a week when I did not wake up hungry in the middle of the night! And there was no more puking after that, and no sick tummies today at all! Thank Goodness!!!

I did assign Malia the task of getting her bedding into the washer today. She's old enough to help clean up her own puke! Little did I know she kept it wrapped up tightly and just shoved the bundle in the washer. Fun times when I took that out to transfer it to the dryer. (GAG!) I ended up scraping off everything that had not only not washed out, but compounded itself even more as it made it's way through a wash cycle all stuffed up together. She hadn't even taken the pillow case off of her pillow. I actually had to leave the room mid-cleanup this time. Dallin spent the next little while trying to figure out why I was making funny faces and bending over. It was gagging evolved to full on heaving. Thankfully I hadn't eaten for a bit.

Lest you think the joy had ended with the laundry, the real highlight of this whole situation came this evening as we were tucking the girls into bed. I had asked Malia this morning to make sure that we got it all cleaned up off of her bed. She said I had gotten it all the night before. Fast forward to bedtime. I find that while the wall just next to the head of her bed is indeed clean, her bed rails are covered, as is the rest of the wall down to the floor, the edge of Alaina's sheet and pillowcase, Alaina's bedrail, and the carpet below the corner of the bed are all plastered in dried puke. We then spent the next 20 minutes cleaning it off. I say we because I am a mean mother and I made both Malia and Alaina help me clean it up. Aaron was a trooper and let me out of the vomit corner and cleaned up the carpet himself after we moved the beds out.

One day I will look back and this and laugh, right? Right???

P.S. I warned you.