The carpet cleaning guy came to assess the situation with the stairs, and was basically like, "Yeah, I'll clean the carpet, but there is SO MUCH MILK in there that the carpet pad and probably the subfloor under that is entirely saturated. I can make it look better, but it will definitely smell terrible indefinitely. You're going to have to replace it." So, silver lining, he cleaned the rest of the basement carpet for free because he felt so bad about the stairs. But brown lining, the milk is starting to dry and our whole house is starting to smell of rotting milk, wet carpet, mold and synthetic cleaning chemicals. Yum.
And to top it all off, my morning sickness seems to be back in full swing, and the smell is just doing me in. I've had the windows open all day and it's still all I can smell.
So, to summarize: I have a virus AND scent-aggravated morning sickness. We are now on the hook for paying the hundreds-to-thousands of dollars to replace the carpet on the stairs (and possibly the whole family room - the watershed at the base of the stairs extends pretty far). And I'm finding out about myself that, when all is said and done, I'm not actually some hyper-spiritual, deeply positive, mature Christian woman, but rather a fickle girl-toddler in a great big body. So I'm growing grouchier by the minute about the state of things. Lest you think yesterday's post was static.
So, let's reminisce about the good times, shall we? The days before the Fateful Milk Spill? Okay, let's.
Last Friday, we wrapped up our second trimester of school, which felt fantastic. The kids would agree.
(And on a funny note, can you guess whose watercolors are whose? Opened on the same day, used with the same frequency, but clearly owned by two distinctly different kiddos.)
On Saturday, my parents came down to help us celebrate Finn's birthday in style. Ninja style.
Five year olds sleep hard. Cuddling their blankies and sucking their fingers. In case you were wondering, five year olds are the best nappers.
Todd's boss gave the boys these old military-issue hats of her husband's. The boys were thrilled (I mean, real-life, actually thrilled, not the kind of thrilled this picture would convey).
On Sunday, we missed church because Atticus had come down with some major hacking and snotting the night before. I was apparently coming down with it as well, since I couldn't keep my eyes open. We frequently take pregnancy photos on Sundays, since it's the one day of the week I can guarantee I'll get dressed and ready during daylight hours, but this Sunday found me looking slightly more typical. Todd did not hesitate to get a glowing pregnancy shot anyway.
I had planned to lay low this week, since I have planning and prep to do for our final trimester, plus portfolio organization to do of last term's work, so I don't get too far behind. But then I was sick, and Monday was spent miserable, and Tuesday was spent miserable and gearing up for Connection Group, and Wednesday was spent going to the Amish and cleaning up the stairs, and yesterday was spent lining up the carpet cleaner and scrambling to get something - anything - accomplished in homeschool planning and.... here we are. Friday again. Rocco is here to summarize how I feel at this point (and, honestly, how I dress at this point, too).
On the plus side, because I did that FB live chat on grocery shopping on Monday night, I actually got dressed and put on makeup, so I was able to redeem my pregnancy photo, despite the low lighting.