So... it's been a good three months since I've posted. A lot has happened, and there are literally a hundred sweet things I wish I could have captured to forever remember. What can I say, life happens.

We just had Thanksgiving, it was wonderful. Quiet, only one meal for us to eat (as opposed to the sometimes three we have to attend in one day), and lots of fun, quality family time. It's supposed to start snowing in a few hours, and into the night. With a five and a three-year-old, it's magical.

We put the Christmas tree up this afternoon. Full on decorating will have to wait until the Hubs gets home, but the kids and I had fun putting it up while listening to Christmas music. Baby girl found two big stockings, a hat, and a door decoration, put them all on (door decoration used as a purse), and stated, "Look, I'm all covered with Christmas!"

JP helped me assemble the tree and make sure it was "sturdy," one of his favorite words, and was so proud that he got to stand on the stairs and put on the star. Just as he did, L. spontaneously sang, "God is Jesus, God is Jesus, thank you for our Christmas tree, thank you for our Christmas tree, Amen, Amen."

I know I keep using this work, but again, magical.

Life is good, God is good!

An Addition to "Why I'm always cleaning and yet it's always a mess..."

First there's the normal stuff -

Baby Girl loves to rearrange my bookcase every chance she gets:




I guess this is normal, too, for a house with little imps -

Little Man and Baby Girl removed all the clean clothes I had neatly placed over the side of the pack n' play and dumped them on the floor. Then they moved the pn'p here and there, finally settling by the bed. The Husband later found the clothes (clean, remember!) on the floor and unceremoniously heaped them on the bed. Yes, they will have to be rewashed.

Then there's what seems like "over the top" -

You know those furry things that fall from the trees each spring? In our house we call them Woolly Worms or Twirlies. Regardless of what one calls them, I loathe them. Our dogs roll in the grass and come inside absolutely covered in them. To my dismay, this is a common sight on the couch, the bed, all over the rug, the floor, etc., in my house each spring. Shudder:

Hope you're having a good laugh, if you want more check out Part 1 and Part 2.

An addition to "Why I'm always cleaning and yet it's always a mess... "

Look what I found on my couch, just after The Husband said, "I hope he (Little Man) didn't get on the couch with his Cheeto hands."

Busy Bees

Whew, it's been busy around here, lately. I need to catch up on my blog, there are so many things I don't want to forget!

The kids have been keeping us on our toes, they are busier than ever! Baby Girl is walking a bit, but she still seems to prefer to crawl most of the time. She's climbing on all the furniture, the stairs, up Little Man's step stools, pretty much everything she can get to. She and Little Man have a new game, they like to take all the toy bins and dump them in the den floor. Every single last one of them. It makes for some interesting clean up before bed.

Little Man has really blossomed over the past few weeks, he is more and more a big boy vs. a baby. How did it happen so fast?! He has an amazing memory, last night he read The Husband and I one of his bedtime stories, My Lucky Day, and remembered almost every word! It isn't a short book, either! The Husband and I were so proud! He also, and this is big, gave up his paci! He's only been using it during naptime and bedtime for the last year or so, but we've been unable to wean it away from him during sleepytime. I had read about the trick where you cut just the tip of the paci away, so that it loses suction, and decided to try it. Little Man noticed right away, of course, but he still wanted to use it. He asked, "what's wrong with paci?" I told him that he was getting to be a big boy, and his paci's were getting old, too, and that after a while they just break. Then I said, "when you're pacis break that means it's time to throw them away and not use pacis anymore." Little Man agreed! The next morning he threw them all in the trash and hasn't looked back! He is getting to be so big!

On another note, I've been making lots of cakes. A few friends and I threw a baby shower here at the house, and I made the petit fours, cake, and diaper cake. It was a lot of fun, but wow, also a lot of work!

I also made a cake for mom's office Christmas party. It was my first square cake, it surprised me how difficult corners are! There was definitely a "back" to this cake! I also ran out of red and green fondant, I would have liked to have had a few more decorative touches, but since it's impossible to match colors once they're made, I just left the cake as is.

I can't forget to mention the Christmas shopping! I shopped on Black Friday for the first time ever! I was planning on getting up and hitting the stores when they opened at 5:00, but Baby Girl was up half the night, so I didn't get out until 6:30. I didn't find any major deals, but I did manage to find several little ones. Every little bit helps, right!? Plus, it was a lot of fun, I think it will be a new tradition for me.

Why I'm always cleaning and yet it's always a mess.

First off, let's state the obvious:

1 husband, 2 small children, 2 dogs - enough said.

Now for the rest:

I've just finished scrubbing the kitchen spotless and Little Man wants a snack. He requests yogurt. Ok. Yogurt dispensed. Yogurt spilled on counter. Yogurt mistaken for finger paint.

I wash walls. With the above mentioned beings living in this house, it has to be done on occasion. Here is one reason why: Little Man was caught with his hands in his dirty, just-worked-in-the-yard shoes, "walking" them up the wall.

That's all I have for now, these incidences both happened yesterday, but I'm sure I'll have more very soon.

Domestic bliss... Where?!?!

There's no domestic bliss here today....I'm actually writing this tongue-in-cheek, but how do you convey that with the written word?

Anyway, today a few laughable things happened. I washed a load of the kids' clothes last night, and today, when I went to pull them out of the dryer, I was surprised to find Baby Girl's white tights in the load. I had set them aside to hand wash, or wash separately, whichever I felt more like doing at the time, but I guess they were accidentally mixed in with the rest of the clothes. It wouldn't have been a big deal except that I also had bibs in the wash. You know, bibs with Velcro. The bib Velcro and Baby Girl's thin tights didn't like each other too much. The tights looked like they had been mauled and had to be thrown away. Who knew? There's probably many little things about raising a Baby Girl that I've yet to learn.

Also today, I was mixing the fondant for Baby Girl's birthday cake, her party is this Saturday. This is the cake I've been practicing for, you know the whole reason I learned how to use fondant in the first place. Every cake so far has been in preparation for this cake. Ok, so I'm sounding a bit dramatic, but this is what I'm thinking to myself. So, I'm almost halfway through the process, and suddenly my sifter breaks. Completely breaks, I can't even really knock the sugar through by hitting the side of the sifter with my hand. So I have to make the fondant without sifted sugar. Inside, my OCD is screaming at me, "What if it's messed up? What if it's lumpy? It's supposed to be sifted!!!" I had to have a talk with myself, "Self, it's ok. It's just sugar, and it's just a cake. Seriously, calm down!" It worked, I have to say I've been doing pretty well with the OCD these past few years. (Thank goodness for that, says The Husband!)

In addition to today, a few other mishaps happened earlier this week. A few days ago, I was digging around in my trunk, and suddenly came upon a mysterious plastic grocery bag. "Uh oh," I thought, "what food did I leave in my trunk, and how bad is it going to smell?" Fortunately it wasn't food, but unfortunately it was even worse. Diapers. Cloth diapers to be exact. They were probably left in my trunk for about ten days or so. That's ten days too many, my friends. So I washed an "emergency load" of diapers and stripped the diapers, which means you do an extra, extra thorough wash with a different kind of soap. You only strip your diapers about once a month or so. (At least that's what I do.) So now I've just stripped my diapers. A day or two goes by and I wash another load of diapers. When I pull them out of the dryer I am greeted with a surprise (yes, another one!). This time it's a dryer sheet. Oh no!!! Why is that so bad, you ask? Well, fabric softener, including dryer sheets, leave a residue on the diapers, which keeps the diapers from absorbing liquid, which is what diapers are meant to do. So my diapers now leak. Great. How do you fix this, you ask? Strip your diapers, which I just did two days ago. Aarrrggg!

Somehow, I find all these mishaps to be a bit funny, which is so out of character for me. Having children has taught me a lot, and changed me for the better (I think, oh I hope!). Before kids, I probably would have freaked out at all of these incidents. Now, it's easy to just shrug it off and laugh.

Life is good!

Unusually Productive

Things have been going really smoothly around here lately. Maybe it's our reward for the past several weeks when we seemed to have constant chaos for weeks on end.

Little Man and Baby Girl are getting along and even enjoying playing together a bit.

The Husband has returned to a more regular work schedule.

We've all been well lately, what a huge relief!!

I've gotten to tackle a few projects, which has cleared some of the visual (and mental) clutter around here. Thank goodness!

For instance, I have ALL my pictures from 2007 in an album. Yes, in an album. With captions and cute little stickers, almost like a scrapbook. This took about three weeks. Now I'm organizing pictures for 2008. Baby Girl was born in 2008, so we have about... 1,000 pictures. Not kidding a bit. I have most of them printed, and in a crude order, like Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall. It's a great start, and after 2008 I'll tackle '04, '05, '06, and '09. Small steps, small steps.

I've also been practicing my cake decorating. Here is a picture of a cake I made for my mom's birthday this week.




She absolutely loved it and felt so special, what a great feeling!

I also tried to make Petit Fours today, I'm hoping to make these for a baby shower I'm throwing next month.

My petit four-making needs some help, these did not turn out the way I had hoped. I did, however, learn a lot from my mistakes and I think I'll have it next time. And they tasted sooo good.

A few cute tidbits about the kids:

When I have several errands to run, or drive the long drive out to my mother-in-law's house, Baby Girl usually falls asleep. This is just too much temptation for Little Man, who then tries to wake her up by repeatedly yelling "HUH" at her. So the other day it was Little Man who fell asleep, and Baby Girl who stayed awake. She was looking over at big brother, and chatting to him a bit. I guess she realized he was asleep, because all of the sudden I hear a "HUH, HUH!" No, it wasn't Little Man, it was Baby Girl, giving payback to brother. She did wake him up, too! Little Man's response, "Mommy, Baby Sister is keeping me awake!"

Little Man's speech continues to crack me up. One of his favorite words right now is "something," only he says "someping." Sometimes it's just too much!

Tonight, as I was organizing the kids' closet with their fall clothes, Baby Girl got into the Aquaphor bottle. She smeared globs of it all over her face, her mouth, her hands, and hair. Oh yeah, and Little Man's bedspread. To top it off, she was MAD when I took it away, she loved it's squishy texture. I was worried about her swallowing all that thick, greasy lotion, but a call to Poison Control calmed my nerves. Tonight, she has the most velvety skin a baby ever had.

Happy Monday!

We've stayed inside today, for it's been raining off and on. Just like it has been for the past week...

Anyway, Baby Girl's first birthday is fast approaching, so I tried my hand at something I've always wanted to do.

I was really happy with the results! Now don't get me wrong, my technique definitely needs tweaking, but I thought it was great for my first attempt. I need to work on the consistency of the fondant, it was a bit heavy and greasy, but who am I kidding, the whole family will enjoy the practice. :)

Other musings from today: Things I don't like hearing from my three-year old include, "Gross, Baby Sister, you have poo poo on your shirt. Where'd that poo poo come from, Baby Sister?" Thankfully, the "poo poo" turned out to be a rogue crumb from the above chocolate cake that was on Baby Sister's face, and not poo poo for real. I was about to be disgusted.

That's all for today, Happy Monday!

The Husband thinks I'm crazy

And he may be right...

I have my quirks, I admit. I have a touch of OCD, and I don't say that lightly, it's true. I was reading a post by a blogger who was documenting the construction process of her new home, and she wrote about how a few things were really bugging her, in an OCD kind of way. I nearly choked on my coffee when I read the statement, "I like 90 degree angles." I thought, "Girl, I know what you mean!" There are a few things in my house, which we built, that drive me nuts when I think about them. Like my blogger friend, they, too, have to do with angles. To use her words about misaligned angles,

"They make me ache."

What an accurate description! I had never articulated it that way, but that's exactly how it feels. In my house, I have problems with our fireplace as well as with our pantry. The trim work on the fireplace is most definitely NOT at a right angle. The decorative fluted posts that come down on each side - crooked. I don't think anyone else has ever noticed. I sure did. Our fireplace is the focal point of the one great big room we have downstairs, and it's crooked. Not a lot, but enough that every time I notice it, which is every few days, is does make me ache a little inside.

Seriously.

Our pantry, too, is crooked. It's built out a bit, one side of the pantry boxes out the fridge and the other is a little wall that sticks out about three feet. This one seriously gives me the heebie geebies when I notice it. I mean I know there's a tool out there whose sole purpose is to make sure you are building at a right angle! Use it!

Now on to the other reason my husband thinks I crazy. I have fears. I think they stem from the same OCD-thing, but they are a bit different. For a long time, I kept most of these fears under a lid. Until I had children, that is. Nothing like motherhood to bring OCD out into overdrive! Ok, now onto the latest reason why The Husband thinks I'm crazy. Little Man and Baby Girl share a room, and it's upstairs. It's a good size room, but it has to hold a twin bed, a crib, a dresser, a bookcase, a glider, and an ottoman. Oh yeah, and toys. So, there aren't a lot of options for ways to arrange the room. So in order to make the room inviting and functional, we ended up pushing Little Man's bed against an outside wall - a wall with two windows. The head of his bed was against one of the windows. Not ideal, but our windows have great sturdy locks that his little hands can't open, so I didn't worry, and for his comfort we put pillows against the window, so it seemed to be fine...

Until one day I thought of earthquakes. I thought, "what if we have an earthquake, the window breaks, and due to the shaking Little Man rolls right off the bed, out the window, and falls onto the concrete below?!" A valid concern, I thought, I mean we do live in a seismic zone. True we haven't had a major earthquake in over a hundred years or so, but they always say around here to be ready for "the big one", just in case. So I voice my concerns to The Husband, who first looks at me as if I'd literally just dropped all my marbles on the floor and was drooling on them. He doesn't say a thing. A few days later I voice my concerns again, I just want him to say, "Yeah, that could happen, but it won't. Don't worry about it." Snort, yeah right. He pretty much tells me he loves me, but I must be crazy if I'm worried about that. End of conversation. I can see we're going to get nowhere with this. So a few months go by and I can't let my fears go (OCD!). So today, I did something about it.

I rearranged the kids' room.

There was only one other way to do it and keep all the necessary furniture in the room. So I did it. It's functional and safe...not as cute as it used to be, but I love it anyway. It just feels right, if only because I won't think about earthquakes as I'm tucking Little Man in at night anymore. One less thing to worry about, right!

I can't wait to see what The Husband will say about this when he gets home.

A Bit of This, A Bit of That

Today was one of those hodge podge days, full of errands and a to-do list a mile long. It started out by me washing baseboards. Yep, it was at the top of my to-do list. Not my "I want to do" list, but my "must do" list. So I spent the better part of the morning, and part of the afternoon, washing the baseboards, the trim to the doors and windows, the doors themselves, and the walls in the high traffic areas (pretty much all our walls). Before kids, this was something that was done on a somewhat regular basis, every other month or so, and since there were no messy kids around, it was pretty easy. Since kids, well, um, it's been awhile. Funny, that when you need to clean more than ever, thanks to a toddler who is somehow able to smear food and put greasy hand prints everywhere, you have less time to actually do so. But now it's done and the house looks so much better. It had reached the point where it still looked and felt dirty even after I vacuumed, mopped, and dusted, but now, thankfully, it's CLEAN!

Also on the list today was cleaning the blinds. I HATE to clean blinds, it's so tedious. Today I kind of cheated, but it worked, because they look good. I sprayed the heck out of them with Pledge, wiped them down, flipped them over and did the other side. I even decided to hit the blinds in the master bedroom, which are covered by curtains, so they usually get skipped. I thought since they were covered up they wouldn't be dusty. Oh my, how wrong was I. I can't believe The Husband and I weren't perpetually sick from the thick layer of dust on them. And the curtains. I'll be honest, in the three years that they've been hanging I never, ever thought about cleaning them. I didn't grow up in a house where a lot of cleaning took place (sorry mom), so sometimes I just don't think to do some of the deep cleaning/spring cleaning stuff. The top of the curtains had a good 1/2 inch of dust on them, it was so gross. I thought I'd just wash them, but they are silk, and the tag on them said dry clean only. Well, forget that, I thought. I threw them in the dryer with a wet washcloth and a dryer sheet, turned it on air dry and let them tumble for a bit. They came out looking and smelling great, and thankfully still the right length.

Then it was off to run errands with Baby Girl. I had worked up a big thirst and we were out of diet coke. Water and iced tea just wasn't cuttin' it, I needed that carbonation to hit the back of my throat. We were also out of ice cream for The Husband, which is a big no-no in my house. The Husband eats ice cream every day, and sometimes gets a little cranky if he runs out. Yep a trip to the store was a must.

About that time Little Man came home from an outing with Grandma, so my little OCD cleaning spree had to stop. Poor thing was in a rare mood. He didn't get a nap during the day, Grandma tried but something would always distract him. After a few time outs and temper tantrums he ended up getting put to bed at 7:00, about and hour and a half earlier than usual. Still, he passed out almost immediately, sweet baby.

Tomorrow he goes to school, I think I'll tackle the windows!

{ I can't believe I just wrote a boring post about cleaning, I think I may need some excitment in my life ;) }

If you can't take the heat...

Well, this post really has nothing to do with heat, or kitchens, or anything of the like.

It has to do with crime, specifically crime in my neighborhood.

Huh?

In the wee hours of the night a bunch of hooligans decided to go on a crime spree. At last count, and with only 2/3 of the street surveyed, 13 cars had been broken into. Violently. Our hooligans didn't just jimmy a lock, they busted out windows. The local glass repair shop actually sent representatives to canvas the street in search of victims of smash and grab. (Makes one wonder, maybe the glass repair shop needed some business -I'm just kidding, but it made us think!) And if you are wondering, yes, we one of those unfortunate families who woke up to a broken car window and subsequent repair bill (thanks Hooligans, we really needed that extra excitement this morning, not to mention the loss of $150 or so just so you could steal $2 in change). Sigh... I'm venting here because, well, my friends and family with either say or think the following: "That's what you get for living where you live." In a way, they're right, it is an urban neighborhood. However, it's just sad that to live in a great, wonderful community like this we also end up living with this kind of stuff. I am so thankful I can vent in the land of anonymity, because I don't really feel like defending the Ol' Hood and listing all of its virtues today, thank you very much. Whew, I feel better already, thanks to a little blogging and a Starbucks iced coffee (thank you Starbucks for sending me a coupon for a free coffee!). Now off to the usual excitement for the day - cleaning this house and wiping noses - after this morning I'll take it!

Mission Organization (and while we're at it What Not To Wear) where are you? I need you!

There are certain things I expected with motherhood, like lots of cuddles and hugs, bedtime stories, tantrums, an extra 5 (make that 20) pounds, but the complete and utter disintegration of the organization of my home I did not expect.

I used to pride myself on my organization and cleanliness. Sometimes I think God is using motherhood as a tool, you know "pride cometh before the fall" and all. Who says God doesn't have a sense of humor? Anyway... the past few years have been a blur of baby gear and toddler toys and little money or creative ideas on what to do with all these things. I try to keep up, but the kiddos and their stuff are beating the pants off me.

Yowser, this place is a mess.

One of those messes where even after you clean it's still somehow messy.

My mother-in-law came over unexpectedly the other day. Well, let me clarify, The Husband invited her over and forgot to tell me. Which really isn't a big deal, ya'll know how I love the mother-in-law. However, I had been way overscheduled this past week, and since I'm the only one [and I say this with a smile, ya'll ;)] who cleans this house, well, the house was messy. Not just messy, but dirty messy. So when I walk in the door and see Grandma (surprise!) I am truly embarrassed and mumble something like, "I'm so embarrassed, the house is a mess." To which she replies, "Oh, your house is not messy, it's just... cluttered."

Oh how I wanted to melt right into the floor and disappear.

Anybody Want a Cat?

Oh where oh where do I start?

I have this cat, and have had him for almost nine years. He's pretty cute, but don't let that fool ya. You could say he's a feral kitty, his momma and daddy were feral, and even though he's been handled and taken care of by humans since the moment he was born, there's still a little feral in him. I got him when I was a senior in college, and wanting a dog but having neither the time nor space for one, got a kitty instead. I named him Harrison, or Harry, the Cat. All the good pictures of him were taken before my first digital camera, but here's a so-so picture of him, he's still pretty cute.

Well, Harry wasn't the dream cat I was expecting. He didn't cuddle up in my lap and purr or rub up against my legs. He liked to play "hunt" and "chase." He bit and scratched. He really didn't mean for it to hurt, but it sometimes did. I stuck with him, just the same. I thought he was just being a kitten and would soon outgrow it. (yeah, snort)

When my husband and I got married, he had a wonderful, sweet, and perfect dog - Foster. He was an almost two year old mini schnauzer, and how I loved him. Foster and Harry got along well enough, and after awhile actually enjoyed chasing each other about. Well, The Husband and I loved Foster so much that we decided to adopt another mini schnauzer. We found this wonderful rescue group SchnauzerLoveRescue and found our new puppy - Miller. (yes, they are named after beer, thanks to The Husband). Here's a picture of Foster, then Miller.

Well, the new dog was an alpha male, and while he and Foster got along great, the two of them against Harry Cat were no match. Harry soon began to live in one of our upstairs bedrooms. He never came out. EVER. A few months of this and no one else wanted to go into that room, including us. To make matters worse every once in a while (more like once a day) the dogs would go upstairs to play and Harry would get scared and spray - yes spray- all over the upstairs. This was really gross, ya'll.

With all this spraying going on, I knew something had to give, but what could we do with Harry?
Well, then I became pregnant with Little Man and, as his nursery was going to be upstairs, I knew I had a LOT of cleaning to do, as well as figuring out what to do with Harry. After months of trying to find a home for him and exhausting all my options, I had to have a frank conversation with my vet. I told him I was at my wit's end, what else could I possibly do? His answer was simple, he said I should just put Harry in the backyard. He said even if he only lasted a year or two in the yard (we have raccoons and real feral cats in our neighborhood) that it was a year or two of life and at least he was given a chance. Made sense to me. So that's how Harry the Cat began his journey of living outside for the past three and a half years.

Well, sort of. And here's where we get to the point of this post (finally).

We have a dog door. For the dogs. After about two years of living outside Harry figured out how to use it (smart cat, I know). Now he's inside much of the time. I find him under the bed, snuggled in my closet, and yes, in his old room upstairs. The stinky part is, if he does manage to sneak upstairs, he stuck, because he's too scared to run past the dogs to get back downstairs. It's become a battle of wills around here. We humans don't really like him inside, and neither do the dogs. Harry, on the other hand, is determined to reassert his position as an inside cat. Today I was taking a shower, and noticed the bathroom door had been pushed open. This usually means one of the dogs has wandered in to see what I'm up to, but this time it was Harry. I saw him staring at me through the glass door of the shower. It was kind of cute. Once I got out of the shower one of the dogs did wander in, and Bam! chased Harry Cat back outside. Maybe one of these days we'll all learn to live in harmony, but I somehow doubt it.

So....anybody want a cat?

A Tale of Two Couches

So when I was single I bought this couch, a couch perfect for a single girl. And I loved it. It was beautiful, stylish, and best of all, comfy.

Did I mention that it is a solid color, khaki denim couch?

Or was a solid color, khaki denim couch.

I kept that couch immaculate, all while enjoying it, for two years. It didn't have a spot or stain on it, not one.

Enter The Husband, who a few years ago was just a serious boyfriend. Enter his love of eating meals while sitting on the couch, and eating chocolate ice cream while watching tv. He was careful for a while, but then he too, like the couch, got comfy.

Keeping that couch clean was a lost cause. After we were engaged, we built a new house together. It had a dog door, which is a great invention. The downside of a dog door, though, is what is also the upside of the dog door - that the dog can come and go as he pleases. Good 90% of the time. The rest of the time, not so good. Like when the dog finds some mud, or digs in the dirt, or there's an unexpected rain shower while me and The Husband are at work. So the couch gets a little dirty. One day while I was on a girls' trip, The Husband is sitting on the couch with his laptop doing a bit of work. He sits on a pen, one of those gel pens. The pressure of his little tushy pressing down on the tip of that pen was too much, and all the ink emptied out onto my beloved couch.

Did I also mention that this stylish, solid color khaki couch was dry clean only?

I know, I know, what was I thinking?

I was a very neat, very single girl when I bought it, remember?

Then enter our first baby. He had acid reflux. BAD. I'm talking projectile spit up, out of nowhere, no warning. Poor sweet baby. Poor couch.

Do you see where I'm going here?

We kept saying we were just going to buy another couch. But it always seemed like more important things came up. Like furniture for the nursery, a vacation, a home repair. It seemed like something always came up.

The couch is now eight years old, and has lived almost five years with The Husband and the dog door. It isn't as pretty, but it was holding it's own.

Until this week.

Little Man, who is almost three, was sitting on the couch with his chocky (chocolate) milk in a sippy cup, watching Noggin while his mom and dad were waiting for the coffee to kick in. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the unthinkable happens.

Little Man throws up. Chocolate milk. All. Over. The. Couch.

Gross.

Little Man is fine, it was just a fluke. We clean up the couch the best we can, and actually, you can't even see where the chocky milk throw up was.

You can, however, smell it.

Really gross.

I think the couch has finally met it's match. It's faced The Husband, the dogs, a toddler artist, and countless other things.

But it's no match for the chocky milk stuff. I have to accept it, my couch reeks.

Couch, your days are numbered. We'll have to start saving up for a new one.

Of course, we just paid a deposit on our vacation, and need to pay the balance soon.

Here we go again...