The Day Things Got Worse

Has anyone read the short story by one of the Yorgasens entitled "The Day things got Worse" I read that story many years ago pre any mother responsibilities, but occasionally I experience days or hours that resemble a page or two from that story. Today has been one of them...
Last night after Family night, I was headed to a girlfriend's house, three of us were to paint some projects for Christmas, that we figured we could only really finish after bed time. We got started around 9:20 p.m., and I got home around 1 a.m.
Well I finally fell into bed at 1:15 a.m. at which point I heard a crash---like maybe Big D falling out of bed. So I waited for a minute listening to any clues that may inform me who needed help. But no sound came. A couple minutes passed and I fought the urge to drift off to sleep and began wandering through the pitch black house. I entered Pop's room and could hardly focus on the bed, when I discover that indeed my 2 year old is not in bed. She had fallen out and was sitting in the middle of the room rather dazed, but happy. So I put her back into her bed and lay next to her for a few minutes.
Back to bed, Maybe 1:30.
4:30 a.m., you know how you wake with a start when little eyes are watching you in the dark. I don't know if I fully understand this phenomenon, but I know it's true. Little eyes staring at you are one of the most effective rousing methods. There's Pop, this time sans any clothing...she had gone to the potty and couldn't maneuver the bunny suit. She is coughing and sniffling (to go along with her slight fever of the last 2 days) and she tells me that she is going to get in bed with me. Uhhh....No, that does not work---then 3 people go without sleep. Sooooooooo, I help her get dressed, get her a drink twice and put her back to bed and lie down next to her on her twin size bed. She is coughing enough that I turn my back, so as to not invite every germ in, but silly me, I already have a cold, I get back up to grab tissues for my running nose. I spend the next 90 minutes or so in various positions of limbs and shoulder blades hanging off the bed, as Pop coughs and struggles to get some sleep.
Finally, I awake, it is still dark, I go back into the hall, but Mc is up and downstairs, and Dan is gone jogging, Yikes---I have 1 minute to pull on a bathrobe and take Mc a couple miles to her rendezvous point for car pool.
Coming back, I set other kids in motion, Big D still has a fever...so he's moves from bed to couch watching the morning events unfold. I lay back on my bed for 10 minutes (why?) Pop joins me again, and I finally close the chapter of last nights sleep. Short chapter though it may be--We are up!
As I descend the stairs I encourage progress for different children---"get dressed Bear, make your bed...." Then I help Pop get dressed in freshly laundered clothes that are folded, but not put away.
I notice Lissa's pants are too short---hmmm, when did that happen? So we go upstairs to hunt down hopefully longer pants, and we find drawers stuffed with too many clothes, several of which she has outgrown in the last 2 months. So---tidy a bit, re outfit, brush hair, help get out the door.
As I am hugging Lissa goodbye, I hear whimpering...I deduce it is Pop and call out to her. And she cries out miserably "I'm in here!" Uh oh---she's in the bathroom. Well, there is a trail of soiled clothing down the hall leading to the bathroom. Were those clean less than 4 minutes? That may be a record! She apparently didn't quite make it---and then she couldn't get her pants off, and remember she is not feeling so hot, so she did the logical 2 year old thing---and shook her legs violently trying to get those pants off---spreading YES---you guessed it---Poop EVERYWHERE! No joke, the walls, floor, bathtub, clothing, rugs, towels, quite simply everywhere.
Luckily all the kids who need to be out the door are, and I grab some cleanser, baby wipes and a trash bag and overhaul the bathroom. Pop is whimpering piteously, so I wipe her down first---ewww it's in her hair...I run the bath water, take out all the linens and begin scrubbing down the walls. Then she is really crying---and I ask here "What is wrong honey?" To which she replies "you took off your cozy." It took me a few minutes to realize that she was referring my my big ol white bathrobe---that really is very soft and she was hoping to cuddle me.
Sigh. Needless to say, after 40 minutes of disinfecting, I put on my "cozy" bathrobe and cuddled one sick little chick.