I think I've finally dug my way out of a month or so (okay, two) of neglecting my house. With the back to back parties in September, followed by Grant Season, culminating in two weeks of visiting my home to sleep and shower, it was pretty bad.
Friday I had a meeting in NC - that was short and sweet - resulting in my returning home mid-afternoon. Rather than rush back to the office for an hour or so - I opted to take some "leave" and spend the time in the quiet solitude of my house - sans kids, husband, or place to be.
It's amazing what one can accomplish in a short amount of time if determined to do so. In two hours I managed to get the entire downstairs (foyer, living room, dining room, Jack's bedroom, bathroom, laundry room, kitchen, and den) picked up (which was no small feat with the eruption of toys in the den,) swept, dusted, vacuumed, and scrubbed. I had a little bit of time left, so I actually had time to scrub the kids bath upstairs, sweep the stairs, wash/disinfect the bath toys that had become an odd color of pink, and make dinner.
Deonne so kindly agreed to pick up the kids from school so I had the extra time, and I promised a home cooked meal (we'd been eating out a lot this week due to lack of planning/over scheduling.) I made spaghetti - nothing fancy - but the kids favorite.
I should have known something was wrong when A didn't want to touch her dinner. The kid could eat pasta every meal for the rest of her life, she loves it so much. She said her tummy was full - she didn't want to eat much. I tried to get her to take a few more bites - but she refused, politely, but refused.
Okay, fine. We go about the rest of the evening.
Deonne takes the kids up for their bath, I clean up the kitchen, then prepare Jack's bottle, and am just finishing up feeding/burping him/getting him ready to put down when I hear Deonne exclaim
As I put Jack down I'm thinking, oh, she must have done something stupid - like colored on the wall, or - I don't know - cut her hair again.
What I found when I reached the top of the stairs was Anna - white as a ghost - sitting on the potty seat with her arms wrapped around herself with a frightened look on her face - James standing on the landing with a bewildered look on his face - and Deonne, standing at the threshold to Anna's door - staring at a large pile of undigested spaghetti. And marinara sauce. On our light cream colored carpet.
"Anna threw up."
"Really? I see that..."
I look at Anna who (with tears in her eyes) says "mommy, I didn't know I had to throw up - I tried to make it to the potty in time." Oh my poor baby.
Poor little thing ended up with a wicked tummy bug - that lasted through the night. Thankfully, crossing every appendage on my body - she didn't pass it to anyone else in our family.
She's still a bit droopy and down and out today - so she's home with mommy and missing day one of Spirit Week (wear your jammies to school day.) Hopefully she'll be back tomorrow.
Another fun weekend in the Long House.