A series of unfortunate events. Also known as "Thursday Morning"

I woke up abnormally late at 8 am (thanks melatonin!) in a panic because it was eerily silent...and as I made my way in a haze to my daughters room to summon her for school - I was almost killed by a smell that can only be described as dead animal/aged vomit.

I could hear my boys downstairs doing their normal morning "hunger games" routine which involves literal attempts at killing each other and also consuming as much garbage food as humanly possible. (SUCH a good idea to have two boys only 18 months apart!!! Thanks a ton mini pill - you totally useless chemical of lies!!!)

Anyway - I called out to Brigitte to hurry and get up for school and as I opened her door a whiff of unbelievable grossness almost took my head clean off. She sat up, yawned, stretched. Batted her beautiful eyelashes. Totally unaware that she was literally the yolk of a rotten egg. I immediately covered my mouth and nose with my scarf (why, yes, I DO wake up and put a scarf on it - doesn't everybody? Isn't that how we "get dressed" in order to drop kids off at school???!) and yelled at her to hurry up and get her clothes and go downstairs. She says to me "why mom?" And I say to her - BRIGITTE! Cant you smell that HIDEOUS smell??? She proceeds look around quizzically and with a baffled expression says, "what smell?" I nearly died of disbelief. This is after all, my child that literally sniffs her way through life. Its how she interprets her world - through smell. I told her to just never mind and hurry up and get ready for school!

As Brigitte joined the fun downstairs I began my search for the mysterious smell - which is a terrifying task in my daughters room. She's a bit of a magpie and collects all sorts of "treasures" and stashes them in the weirdest of places. Balls of string wound around her dresser knobs, shiny baubles in old cans, wrappers and tags tied around the necks of her stuffed animals are her favorites. Its like ye old curiosity shop in there. I forgot to mention that Brigi has a certain clothing phobia - as in she won't wear ANYTHING. My daughter - my ONLY daughter to dress up and bedazzle...wont allow me to brush her hair or buy her denim. Its a travesty of epic proportions. So her room is literally a land mine of clothing rejects. Stretch pants "that weren't long enough" inside out strewn here and there. Sweaters that are "too choking" wadded up in the corner. Little pairs of undies sprinkled about the room like confetti because she deemed them "too distracting". Its hilarious and also infuriating.

Ten minutes in and I cannot find the source of the terrible smell. And then - I do the unthinkable, and lift her bedspread. Voila. A crusty old rotten sippy cup with moldy chocolate milk spilling out of it. (I can literally hear moms around the world gagging right now. This smell is familiar to you. We can all agree - rotten milk smell is otherworldly in its grossness!) It is somehow on her sheets. Its on her headboard. Its on her pillow. In one swift motion I rolled basically her entire mattress into a ball and using my pure barre arms I carried that load of moldy blankets straight to the laundry room. I did pause briefly at the garage door, strongly considering throwing it away instead of washing it. Because thats the kind of lazy mother I am. But I powered through the urge and tossed it in the laundry room and quickly shut the door behind me. Ill deal with it later today. Which is also the kind of lazy mother I am. It was barely 8:15 am, and I had fist fights to breakup and wild hair to detangle.

As we continue along the morning routine I keep smelling the smell. Its not until I mustered the courage to tackle my daughters tangle of rats nest bedhead that I figure out why. Her hair had absorbed the barf smell! I guess technically she did spend the night rolling around smothering her head in the milk pillow...so that makes sense. It is right about at this time that the doorbell also rang - signaling the neighborhood kids ready to walk to school. Crap. There is literally no time to shower! I assess the situation and vote for a quick hair wash.

I quickly tell the kids to go on ahead, while simultaneously dragging Brigitte over to the kitchen sink which is piled a mile high with yesterdays mound of filthy dishes. (my frequent cooking fiascos -Another post for another day). I bend her little head in between a mixing bowl caked with crusted roll dough and a glass baking dish smeared with last night's artichoke dip - and proceed to hose her head down with my barely there spray nozzle that is TOTALLY useless. In case you think I am exaggerating, here is a quick snapshot of my kitchen:

It is at about this time that I realize I only have a teeny tiny bit of dish soap left in the very bottom of the bottle - and it would take an olympic amount of hitting the bottom in order to get out roughly a teaspoon of soap. I go to plan B which is to sift through whatever mysterious bottles of soap are hiding in the dark recesses of my kitchen sink cupboard. After deciding against antibacterial 409, glass cleaner, and lysol wipes...I settle on these little gems:

Thats right my friends. Your eyes are not deceiving you. I did in fact scrub down my baby girl's barf hair.....with dog shampoo and conditioner.

IT WAS DESPERATE TIMES!!!! Please don't call CPS.

After a quick blow dry and braiding session, we were loaded up in the car heading to school. With 3 minutes to spare I might add. I gave my little animal a kiss and sent her almond scented head on her way!

I don't know about you, but I call that a success story. Love this crazy girl of mine. (She gets the crazy from me. Obviously.)