Oh It's a scene alright....

Hey everyone,
It is with mixed emotions I report that my family has a slight obsession with the CSI crime series. I think the fam members would all agree that we like CSI Vegas the most, although our reasons would vary if asked to explain the how's and why's. For me, as a total side note to any relevancy here at all, I love CSI Vegas because I have been forever been in love with Marg Helgenberger, I have loved her since she played the "female escort" on China Beach. I swear she has barely aged and her sexiness has deepened in some understated, yet very rich way. She's smokin' hot. But I digress....
My reason for referencing CSI at all is because I just changed my sheets. If you are faint of reality read no more.
It is not my usual sheet washing day, this is one of those other circumstances that fits loosely into the sickness category. Thankfully the liquid matter on my bed was not vomit this time, instead a glass of milk that accompanied a bowl of miniature vanilla wafers. (side note for a million years Kevin pronounced them vanilla waw-fers, just remembered that and laughed)
Typically the only person that gets to eat in my bed is me, it usually occurs under a pile of text books and is usually something very bad for me and solely for the purpose of sustaining lagging brain power. It is rare at best. However, my Mimzy was sick this week and set up camp in my bed (hence my now pounding head,cramped up stomach and propensity for continual sneezing YAY!)
Normally I would kick an eating kid to the curb of my bed, if not right out of my room, but a recovering sick kid with big please Mom eyes and a squeaky worn out please mom voice, leave me defenseless.
And so spilled milk I cry about and strip my damn bead and all it's princess and the pea linens.
As I ripped layers from the mattress, I was awe-struck by the myriad of stains. I said aloud "wow" and thought the CSI peeps would have to reconstruct a thousand or more scenarios here. They would be emptying bottles of their magic spray and running their little light wand thingys up and down endlessly. Ha, they would never get it all right.
It's funny how the stains of a mattress piece together stories of of it's owners life, especially that of a parent with as many kids as I have. The things that have happened on that bed....

Am I gross beyond measure for even thinking about this? Am I alone???
Before I proceed, let me make perfectly, crystal clear that I am a clean freak by nature. I am NOT one to "let things go" around my house, un-cleanliness freaks me out and I am habitually, forever freaking cleaning something... There is however, NOTHING that can be done about the mattress stains, trust me I have tried. Many a times the steam cleaner and it's attachment have worked ferociously trying to remove a remnant of some puking episode or bladder break. Although some spots leave me unable able to name their person of origin, my favorite, most recognizable, is one I made myself.
It is a faint stain, the shape of a pond of water. In actuality it was a pond of breast milk. It was my second night home after giving birth to Emma. Being a master breast feeder, I was well aware that the small amount of milk I was making was just "pre-milk" and that the Mother load was due to arrive any time. I woke up in the hormonal exodus sweats, completely soaking wet from hair line to soles of my feet.
As I came to and got my bearings, (where is the baby and is she breathing) I began to realize that the pool I was swimming in was more than just sweat. And with that, I became aware of a faucet like feeling rushing from two enormous, mountain like masses from my chest level. I was the fountain of Motherhood and if a pool around me had been built, I could have easily fed all the starving children of at least one third world country, if not two. I just now groped my own breasts remembering how they quadrupled in size, Thank You Jesus for table food.
There has been poop and barf, pee, feminine accidents, spilled drinks, a glass or two of red wine, chicken noodle soup, sweat, nail polish remover and I am sure DNA of other varieties....

If the CSI agents of New York, Miami and Vegas all converged in my bedroom, they still wouldn't have the resources or time to sort this all out. My mattress is a crime scene of life....