Violet, while showing slight improvement, is still quite sick (although still completely adorable).

By the time she woke up this morning (after a very fitful night of what we will REFER to as "sleep" on the couch with me), her poor little face was crusted in snot. And as she was feeling feverish, I decided to put her in the bathtub. She likes being in the bathtub and being sponged off while she isn't feeling well. She will actually start to fall asleep on her little bath cushion as the water trickles over her. But when I go to take her out? Absolute fury. From the time I lift her out of the water until I finally have her dressed and in my arms, she is TICKED OFF.

So naturally, as I laid her, wrapped in a towel, on the floor in the hallway to get dressed after her bath, life fell apart.

As I started drying Violet off, Caleb walked by and casually informed me that he had used my bathroom and that the toilet needed plunging. I did not see this, in and of itself, as any major issue. I have four sons. My plunger and I have a very close relationship. However, mere seconds later, when I heard a large volume of water splashing onto the floor, it moved up my priorities list.

One of the reasons that I tell my kids not to use my bathroom is that they have a talent for messing up that toilet. If you hold the handle down too long, the little plug in the tank won't go down and the water will just keep running. Normally, I figure this out either when I hear it, or when I notice that the entire house has approximately zero water pressure. Like so many other things in my life, it is annoying but not really a big deal. BUT, when you combine it with a clogged toilet...yeah. Water all over the floor.

I grabbed all of the towels in the room and threw them on the mess while reaching back behind the toilet to try and shut off the water valve. Then I pulled off my shirt because, ew, it was covered with toilet water and headed out to grab more towels. Once those were on the ground and that situation was somewhat under control, I went into the bedroom to put on a clean shirt.

That is when I discovered that Eli, who was sleeping in my room, had managed to spill his orange juice on my carpet. I sent Noah for more towels and told him to clean it up (what a good kid, he did it without a single complaint), put on my shirt, then went back to the naked baby in the hallway to finally finish dressing her.

Whew. And that was only five minutes of my day.

Eli is still really sick. He has been struggling with this illness worse than anyone else. He seemed like he was doing a lot better all yesterday morning. He was playing, walking around, and even helped his great-grandmother make sweet rolls. Then, he spike a major fever. I mean, BLAZING hot. I couldn't tell you how hot since I was much more interested in getting him in the tub and cooling him off than in taking the time to get a number. The fever came down pretty quickly and hasn't gone up that bad since then. Actually, I've only given him ibuprofen once today. But he hasn't gotten out of bed since that fever. He is just sleeping constantly. I can wake him up and get him to drink which, according to our local EMT's (consulted again by my mother), means I shouldn't worry and just let him sleep so his body can fight it. He even watched TV for a couple of hours this evening. But he still is barely eating. If he doesn't show some real improvement by tomorrow, I'll probably take him in to be checked out. I'm not one to run to the doctor for every sniffle, but three days of fevers and constant sleeping is wearing down my mommy nerves.

On the plus side, Wyatt, who started with the fever and yuckies two nights ago, has never gotten to the truly miserable stage. And Noah still hasn't ever gone past the runny nose and sneezing. I'm hopeful that they will avoid the misery that the younger three have gone through.

As I have taken care of my kids and done little else over the past few days, my goal has been to have them healthy in time for me to teach a class at church on Tuesday. A yoga class. I haven't done yoga since I broke my neck in a car crash in 2001. That's a long time, people. Which means I should have been preparing. And I haven't, obviously, since I've been taking care of sick kids for over a week now.

I'm getting a little nervous.

I'm also getting something else.

*Cough, sniffle, cough*