Exasperated

It's no wonder my blood pressure is high.
My kids are trying to kill me, I'm sure of this now.

Today I had to bring the dog to the vet to check his leg (looks infected, he's on antibiotics now) and of course, I had to bring the boys with me.

I anticipated that this would be a complete nightmare, but I had no idea.

Loading up the whole crew into the car went well. Unloading at the vet's office was also fine. However, as soon as the door shut behind us in the waiting room. All hell broke loose.
Sonny would NOT stop barking. And he's a beagle, so his bark is like half howl, half bark. All nightmare.
The boys were jumping up and down on the waiting room couches and pulling out pamphlets on heartworm prevention and canine weight control.

Sonny was tugging on the leash, pulling me away from the counter where I was attempting to give the nice woman my address and phone number. My brain was short circuiting. I was actually surprised that I remembered my cell phone number at all.

The only bright spot was that there was no other dog in the waiting room, so one less distraction.

Finally they call us back. And the gal tells me to follow her with Sonny back to the scale to weigh him.
But the boys couldn't come. So Benny started to cry hysterically. I had to hand Sonny's leash to the vet tech and return to my sobbing child.

When Sonny returned to the room, he continued his barking symphony. Would. Not. Stop.
While I was trying to tell the tech about his leg, how long it had seemed to be bothering him...bark bark bark.

There was a small seat in the corner of the room. The boys started fighting over it. Wrestling. On the ground. In the vet's office. Now they are covered in dog hair, Benny is screaming and swinging his tiny fists at Dylan while Dylan growls in Benny's face like a dinosaur.
Bark Bark Bark Bark!

"Does he have any other problems?" Bark bark bark!
Screaaaaaaaaaaam!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr"
"Nooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!"
"Any vomiting, diarrhea?"
BARK BARK BARK BARK!
Squeaaaaaaaaaal! "Grrrrr"
"Is he eating normally?"
Bark!
Scream!!! GRRRRRRRR!
BARK
"Drinking water? Sleeping well?"
BARK BARK

You get the picture.

By now my head was pounding. I was sweating. Lightning was flashing in my brain. I couldn't concentrate on anything.
BARK BARK BARK.

Then the tech tried to take Sonny's temperature. Rectally.
HA HAHAHAHAHA!

Yeah, that didn't happen.
I have never heard such a protest in my life.
He was having none of that. NONE. OF. THAT.

The tech gave up, thankfully.
Then she left me in my own personal hell, but not before saying "You need a vacation" as she slipped out the door.

You got that right toots.

As we waited for the vet to come in the barking, screaming, wrestling continued.
I thought about just running away, but figured they would find me. After all, the vet office just got my address. Surely they would return the children and the dog to me. So, that wouldn't work.

I tried to curl into myself and block out the cacophony, but their shrieking was so piercing and the barking was so sharp I couldn't ignore either.
It's been almost an hour and I swear I can still hear the noise echoing off the tile floors.

Finally the vet came in and I had to lift Sonny up on the table. That was SUPER FUN. I am now covered in dog hair, sweating, my head pounding, the kids screaming. FUN FUN FUN.

I am convinced that dog hair is the main ingredient in Krazy Glue. You can't get the shit off of you. Once it's on you, it's on you. I look like Teen Wolf. This is ridiculous.

Exam over. Antibiotics prescribed.
We are waiting to pay now in the lobby. The kids trying to open the exit door to the parking lot. The dog darting in and out of all the thankfully empty exam rooms. Another dog with no eyes, seriously, NO EYES, comes walking out from the back room banging into all the walls.

Sonny was intrigued by this, but the no eyed dog somehow managed to turn back around and bumping his head on every wall in the place went back where he came from.

One hundred and fifteen dollars later, we loaded back up into the car with some antibiotics for Sonny and a raging headache for me.

As we drove away Dylan begged me "Can I please watch Big Time Rush when we get home?"

"Honey, I don't care WHAT you do, as long as you do it QUIETLY."

My Children...Oh LORD Help Me

The children must have realized that they stand to inherit nothing from their parents and thus have decided to eliminate us now while they are still young and cute and have a fair chance at being adopted by a rich family.

Case in point: This afternoon.

The first sign that the day would go badly was when Dylan had an "accident" At least he was already in the bathroom and his father was able to get him into the shower and avoid a total poo crisis. Bob threw the offensive undergarments outside into the backyard so as not to disgustify the entire house.

While Dylan was in the tub, Benny decided that HE TOO needed to get into the tub, so he did. And promptly had an "accident" of his own.

On a normal day, this would be the horrifying end of it. But not today.

The bathroom cleaned up, I left to pick up Elizabeth.
She decided to be such a terrible brat and disobey me the whole walk home. When she was not disobeying, she was sobbing. It was a fun 20 minutes.

We arrived home and Benny was upstairs in bed wailing. He was NOT going to sleep. So we let him out of the crib and prayed he wouldn't be TOO terrible.

Oh, I forgot, while we were out, the dog found the poopy underwear and ATE THEM...

OK...dogs are SICK.

Anyway...

Bob started on the dishes and I went upstairs to put away laundry.

Soon thereafter I looked out the window to see the dog had snatched the grease catcher off the bottom of the BBQ and was EATING ALL THE GREASE!

I ran downstairs, took it away from him and went back upstairs...Surely that would be the end of this terrible day...Back to folding...

THAT major fun was interuppted by the sound of crashing glass....which ultimately turned OUT to be Benjamin finding and smashing the Christmas mugs that were intended to be gifts for my mother's officemates. BAD. VERY BAD.

Those got cleaned up and I ran out to replace them leaving the children with Bob.

Unbeknownst to Bob, while I was gone, the children began to throw chunks of mud onto the top of the shed.

When I got home, replacement mugs in hand, I found the children outside, covered in mud AND the shed, also covered in mud.

Holy Mary, MOTHER OF GOD!

Dylan and Elizabeth were sent inside to clean up and go straight to bed. It was like 3:45 in the afternoon.

Benny stayed outside to be hosed off as he was head to toe mud and sand and wretched evil.

After that it's just a blur of all the kids screaming and fighting and slapping at each other until finally we separated all of them and eventually put the nap skipping baby to bed for the night, at 5 pm.

I'm currently one whiskey sour into what better damn well be a more relaxed evening. BETTER DAMN WELL.

24 hours of crazy

Yesterday was a hard terrible day around here.
First of all, my dang washing machine decided to give up the ghost and die on me mid wash cycle. Let me tell you, hand-wringing out half washed clothes is F-U-N!
There were also TWO blankets in there, thank God they were small! The are hanging from the rafters of my back porch, making my house look oh so classy.
Can you imagine if I was washing a comforter or sheets at the time of the meltdown. Egad. Terrible.

After that I went online and found out that there had been a shooting at the local WalMart in the parking lot, which is so scary because I practically LIVE at that WalMart, sadly.
One person was killed, another gravely injured AND the shooter is unidentified and still on the loose.
Very, very scary.

I had a billion errands to run yesterday and drove by WalMart at least three times and each time it was scary. Yellow crime scene tape, emergency vehicles ALL over the place....a big crowd of police, fire, paramedics, witnesses...
So scary.
Even though I'm sure it would be like lightning striking twice for something to go down like that again there, I'm now totally hesitant to even GO to that WalMart! But it's not like I have a choice...eventually, I'm going to have to go back...

During all my errands, Dylan was TERRIBLE. And I was all shell-shocked and feeling weird to begin with. I sort of let him go off and be a bit crazy even though I totally wanted to put a leash on him.
He was so bad that by the time we finished everything and went to pick up Elizabeth from school I was completely fed up. As we left the school I told him that he was misbehaving so much that he was going to have to go on time out at home.

"You need to go to your room alone and have quiet time."

"No mom! Nooooo!"

"Yes, Dylan. Trust me, it's for your own protection."

"I can't like quiet time!"

Duh.
He ended up falling asleep in the car anyway, so it wasn't an issue when we eventually got home.

THIS morning we all had to wake up and scramble to get ready because the older kids had dentist appointments. This was Dylan's first time. I had previously told the doctor that he MIGHT be a problem patient as he is well, you know, himself.

Imagine my total surprise when he was a PERFECT patient for the gal cleaning his teeth. Maybe it was because she was cute. Dylan opened wide, he let the vacuum tube near his face (which is a BIG thing, he's terrified of vacuums) and he did so well during the x-rays that they got a whole series instead of just the two or three they were expecting out of him.

Yay! I was so proud. But Dylan's moment in the sun was short lived. After the dentist we went to the "Dinosaur Park" as Elizabeth calls it. We met up with some friends we haven't seen in awhile. Well, I've seen their mom but the kids haven't gotten together. Bunch of sickies and bad weather!

Dylan was great for about the first half hour. Then it was like someone flipped a switch in his brain and he was just "firsty! so firsty!" and wanted a "thoda!" and wanted to leave dinosaur park and go to the "grothery store"

He kept throwing himself face first into the sand and flailing around like a freak. And not a freak on a leash either, an unleashed freak.

It was only mildly annoying to me though since we were a) outdoors and the screams dissipated and b) noone else was really around. Christina (my friend) has two girls around the same age as my two olders, so she knew this was just a kid thing and not a reflection on my parenting skills as a whole, at least I THINK she did! ;)

Which is quite the opposite reaction I got from a old lady at Safeway just the day before. Dylan was hollering in the check out line. Not screaming, just being loud. And this lady waiting at the next checkstand WHIPPED around and glared at me as if to say with her beady old eyes "I can't believe you would take that THING into public!!"
And I hope she could read my mind because I was saying "Listen lady! Don't you think if I was ALLOWED to lock him in the trunk when I go shopping that I WOULD! But I can't it's totally not allowed at all!"

And THEN she would feel bad because her bitchy glare just made a nice regular mom think about possibly inprisoning her son in the trunk of a car just so SHE could have total silence at Safeway when she was picking up her Depends and Aqua Net. <=Total old lady cliches.

Anyway....getting back to the fits being thrown at the park...
We ended up leaving and driving back to Show Low to go to Safeway (remember, no WalMart for me) and get our groceries. With Dylan. I didn't lock him in the trunk at all. Though, man, did I regret it.

The kids MADE me get one of those STUPID carts with the car on the front. Of course, those carts don't hold as much groceries and impossible to manuever cleanly through the store. It doesn't help that they litter the aisles with all sorts of racks of products and hang things from every shelf and people apparently dead set to be jerkoffs leave their carts randomly in the canned vegetables aisle while they wander over to the in-store Starbucks and get a caramel macchiato and a biscotti for a few hours. At least that's what I ASSUME cart abandoners are doing.

Anyway...I'm pushing this big lumbering stupid looking, not enough grocery holding cart and the bread is getting all squished and the kids keep trying to jump in and out of the car and switch seats and kill each other and make me smack them in public.

Eventually I had to get down, stick my face into the car and very very quietly warn them against further misbehaving.
At which point I was already so over the shopping and so disoriented from having been wrangling kids instead of paying attention to what I was purchasing, I just went to the check out and paid for my stuff and we left.

Oh, no, wait. We couldn't leave without getting Scratchers!
"Mom! I neeeeeed scratchers"
Neither of their tickets were winners, by the way.
Then I had to go BACK to the check out to pay for the two donuts the kids ate that I forgot about and were PROBABLY the source of their insolence.

After I got the kids loaded into the car and all the groceries in I informed them that any further speaking to me or each other would be a very bad idea. A very bad idea.
And because my head spun around and steam came out of my ears and my voice was all distorted and Satanic they were quiet ALMOST until we got out of the parking lot.

Tales from the Playland...and other tales...

Dylan tried to have lunch with the kids at Elizabeth's school yesterday but they were having bean burritos and he almost had an aneurysm instead.
None of my kids are very keen on the Mexican food, least of all burritos. They can tolerate tortillas and might munch on a quesadilla, but they shun tacos, enchiladas and salsa. They don't even like my special secret recipe guacamole which I make fresh from scratch. They're strange.

After his rather unflattering display of temper, I thought it was best if Dylan left the classroom. So we went to McDonalds for lunch. Burritos are gross, but fried up nuggets of chicken are delicious.
Of course, we went to the McDonalds that has a Playland. And of course there were little jerkoff kids playing there with their jerkoff moms doing their very best to NOT supervise them at all.

McDonalds is promoting the new Madagascar movie right now, and you get a plastic animal toy with your Happy Meal. Dylan got a funny penguin. These jerkoff kids each got the zebra.
As Dylan went to join them in playing the bad kids were taking turns throwing their toys up the slide of the Playland. I cautioned Dylan that if he were to even CONSIDER throwing his toy, I'd take it away from him and we've leave McDonalds immediately.
He never even dared to dream of throwing that toy. These other kids though...

Every five minutes or so one of the jerkoff moms would snap to reality and realize that she had just been listening to five minutes of her jerkoff kid hucking a plastic toy up a plastic slide. Quite loud.

"Do not throw that toy!" the mom would yell...then go back to her very interesting conversation...which was actually not that interesting at all. Yes, I eavesdropped. Ben is not a great lunch companion. Not much to say that one.

Anyway. The kids would stop throwing the toys for about 2 seconds, then start again, and five minutes later...you get the point.
I was getting pretty freaking irritated. And I was getting a headache from the damn racket!

Then...I hear my son crying. OH HELL NO! It's on!
I go over there and Dylan is crying "No no! Don't hurt me! I'm just Dylan!"

And the little jerkoff kid has the zebra in his hand, arm cocked back, ready to throw it at my son's head. Again.
OH HELL TO THE NO!

I said "Hey! That's not very nice. You shouldn't be throwing your toys around."

As I brought Dylan back to the table one of the moms came over to her kid and said "That not nice, someone could get hurt."

Uh, someone DID get hurt you dumb idiot.
Of course, as soon as the mom walked away, the kids resumed throwing the toys. Little bastards.

I was about two minutes away from punching one of those kids or one of their moms, so we left McDonalds and headed back to Elizabeth's school.

I parked at the library and we walked around the block and up the hill to her school...this is because one of the girls in her class asked me yesterday morning if I had another baby in my belly.

Whah! I seriously wanted to cry.

Anyway...we picked up Elizabeth and were walking back to the car. I asked Dylan...

"How do you spell your name?"
"My name is Dylan! I'm Dylan!"
"Yeah, I know, but how do you spell Dylan?"

Dylan shouted "P-O-I-S!"

"No buddy. D-Y-L-A-N."
He repeated the letters after me.

"That spells Dylan. How do you spell Dylan?"

He shouted "P-O-I-S! P-O-I-S!!"

"Whatever."

What a day!

We had another awesome day yesterday...

I woke up at 8 am and all three kids were in the baby's crib. Don't ask. They weren't pinching him or laying on him, and it was cute enough. Though I did tell them that they PROBABLY shouldn't get into the crib with the baby anymore. And I didn't take a picture because I've found that encourages them to further misbehave...yeah, that's what does it, the photographic evidence of their prior bad acts.

After breakfast I did some work on the computer while the big kids played "Customer" out Elizabeth's bedroom window and the baby napped.
"Customer" works like this. Elizabeth stands inside her room and opens the window. She has no screen. It's lovely.
Dylan goes out onto the front deck and "stands in line" at the open window like a customer. Then he orders chicken nuggets and coffee. She hands him a toy from her room. He says thank you, she says have a nice day. Then they switch places.
It's quite funny.

That went on for a good hour. Ah to be so young and so easily entertained!

It's been cold here lately, high 40s during the day, so it took about an hour to find all the winter accoutrements for the kids' outfits and another half hour to find matching socks for everyone. Curse you runaway socks! Everyone is getting socks for Christmas, all the same size and all white. Then ALL the socks will match!

Finally we got into the car and headed to Elizabeth's school, late, as usual.
The boys fell asleep on the way so I ran inside without them to sign Elizabeth into class. It was like two minutes. They were fine. Don't panic.

I had a lunch "date" with some gals from my old job and some of their kids at the very exclusive and fancy McDonalds Playland. Oh yeah. I roll like that.

By the time we got there, Dylan had sweated so much sleeping in his winter coat that his hair was all wet and plastered to his head. Very nice look. He ate about 1.5 chicken nuggets, leaving the other 2.5 to be nibbled up by my pregnant friend Mandi. Preggo girls do NOT waste food.

We were at the playland for about an hour and a half burning off the pound of Hershey Kisses that Dylan stole from the candy bowl that morning running around and playing.
Then the boys and I were off to WalMart where I shopped like a lightning bolt, then waited in an interminable line. Sigh.
I had to beg the cashier lady to let me get my WIC items without my WIC folder. Anyone who has ever been on WIC knows what I mean. They are militant about that folder! Even though I had my ID and my WIC checks with MY name on them, she was like, "I'm not supposed to do this, I have to verify your signature."

I'm like DUDE, it's ME! How would I find WIC checks with my exact name on them and then steal them? It's improbable at best.

What I actually said was "Please please I need that milk and eggs! Oh please! I'll never tell!"

And she saw my pathetic begging and took pity.

After that I called my sister in law to check on my niece who had her tonsils out that morning. She was doing fine, eating yogurt.
I also texted my brother in law who had his OWN tonsils out that same morning. More on that later.

Then we went to have snack with Elizabeth's class. Here's where it gets, eh, interesting.

I'm standing there holding the baby while Dylan runs around and plays with the kids, totally normal. Then ONE of the kids in her class, the bad one who shall not be named, had some trouble making good choices right in front of my eyes.

First he laid on a kid and kicked him in the armpit.
I said "Hey 'Bad Kid' I don't think he likes that, you need to get off of him" but I WANTED to say "What the hell is the matter with you!??"

Elizabeth's little friend told me "He's really really bad. Don't talk to him. Just ignore him. He's a bad kid. You shouldn't talk to him."
I thought it was sweet that she was trying to protect me from the little bastard. Actually, I think his parents ARE married. But that's neither here nor there.

After snack was finished, The Bad Kid walked up to Elizabeth and just pushed her down. For no reason. She spilled her cup of water all over and started to cry.
So I grabbed the kid by the shirt and tossed him out the window.

No.

I said. "Hey BAD KID! That is NOT NICE! She doesn't like to be pushed down."
And in response, he looked straight at me and arm barred another little girl right behind him. Just slammed his arm right into her throat.

Then the teacher grabbed him up by the shirt and threw him out the window.

No.

But she did grab him and make him sit in her lap while she held him.
What a little freak!

There's a parents meeting tonight and I think I'm going to have to say something about this kid. I mean, how much out of control violent behavior do all the other kids have to endure before someone gets this kid out of this class? Clearly he doesn't function well in the school environment.

I feel bad for his parents, but dang, this kid is a nuisance, a distraction and frankly a danger to the other children. I'm just not sure that there's much the school can do about it.
Do schools HAVE to let violent little bastards kids who have trouble making good choices stay in class?

I don't know.

So, after that we left and my sister in law called me to tell me that her brother (who I previously mentioned had just gotten his tonsils out) was not waking up from his anesthesia and was in the ICU at the hospital. Holy crap!

I called Bob and told him to go visit his brother.
He did and reported back that yes, he was still asleep (about five hours post surgery) but the doctors said that sometimes people with sleep apnea sleep for-freaking-ever after surgery. Hmm. Interesting fact.

After Bob got home I told him about the Bad Kid pushing Elizabeth down. He got a very serious look on his face and said "I'm gonna kick that kid!"
Instead of child abuse though, we agreed that we would have to speak to the teachers about this. I know they're exasperated with this kid too, so...it's not like they aren't aware.

Then I made dinner, a lovely recipe for Tomato-Apple Chicken which is delicious. Bob opened the pan and said "Are those apples?"
"Yes."
"Apples and chicken?"
"Oh SORRY! I'll just make frozen burritos and pizza from now on!" I said, totally NOT overreacting!

"I just won't eat the apples."
Then I pouted for about an hour. It was hard work.
Then I did my football picks (AMY!) then we all got ready for bed.

We got updates from my brother in law's wife from time to time last night, basically that he was still sleeping but doing fine. This morning at 7:30 he called here himself to say that he had finally woken up at 9 pm last night, about 10 hours after surgery, and was being discharged this morning. Phew!

He said he was feeling good, but yikes! That was a bit scary for us!
Hopefully today will be less exciting!

The juice is loose...

Ordinarily, I'd never ever take a picture** of the inside of my refrigerator.
For one, it's a sad mix of condiments, leftovers and WIC items. I love me my government cheese and milk.
For another, who takes pictures of the inside of their fridge?? This isn't "Cribs"
It's not all Cristal and Red Bull and Fiji Water in there.
Ok, there was one half empty Red Bull.

Tonight I made a special exception.

I was on the computer just a little while ago, when I heard a tiny voice say...

"Mom! There's an orange juice problem in the fridge! It's spilled!"

"Well grab a towel and wipe it up."

"It's too much! It's too much!" Elizabeth yelled.

Fully prepared to arrive at the scene of a vastly over-reported accident...I went into the kitchen, peeked into the fridge, and...

"OH MY LORD! Get towels, get every towel you can find!!!"

My darling son Dylan had knocked over an ENTIRE can of Donald Duck orange juice all over the fridge.
Starting at the top shelf, splashing over the inside of the door, drip drip dripping onto the shelves below and pooling ever so nicely in my veggie drawers.

Gah!

I hurriedly removed every single thing from my refrigerator.
Wow. How long has that been in there?



Elizabeth was my item sorter (counter or trash) and towel hander (hurry hurry!).
It took eight towels, two crochet washcloths and a pillowcase to sop up the OJ.

Sigh.

I am SO buying a fridge lock.

**PS the picture of the fridge was taken after I cleaned up about HALF of the OJ...Notice how it pools in the veggie drawer...

I can't stands no more!

Saturday night was fun.
I had some lovely pain and pressure, with a side of Braxton-Hicks.
When it wouldn't get better from laying down and drinking water, I went to the hospital's OB department to get checked out.
After a couple of hours hooked up to monitors in a room the size of my closet, they set me free after a shot of Toradol to relax me muss-kells and told me to take it easy.

Good advice.
However.
Have you met The Destructo Twins?



And their father, the leader of the Darkness Squad?
Their sole mission is to bring down chaos and mayhem upon my head.
In their arsenal of No-Good Tools they have such dastardly methods as Leave Garbage on Floor Everywhere, Eat Chips for Breakfast, Remove Every Book and Toy from Shelf Then Leave Room in Chaos Forevermore! Bwah ha ha!
Not to mention MY personal favorites, Dirty Dishes are Best Stashed Under My Bed and I Don't Even Remember When I Took One Bite of That Banana and Left it Under the Couch to Die.
Their father is also a master of All Bathroom Reading Materials are Best Stored in a Pile on the Floor and Why Shouldn't These Dirty Socks Mingle With the Clean Ones?

Gah!

No no. Relaxing is to invite the Devil himself in to play.
We can not do "relaxing"
Instead, I had four separate nervous breakdowns over the course of two days. Yay!
Efficiency!
I was indeed so crazed with insanity and overwhelmed with craposity that my mom was seriously considering coming out to my house just for the weekend to fold laundry and make me take a nap. No lie.
T'would be hard to do both though, since all the laundry is piled on my bed. But I digress...

After my fourth nervous breakdown last night, I washed a whole sink load of dishes and felt better and accomplished.
Of course, the Darkness Squad quickly assembled a dizzying array of plates, bowls, spoons and cups all in varying levels of filth to replace the dwindling pile I was working through. Love you guys!

It's really no surprise then that at midnight I woke up with stabbing, aching, ripping me in two pains in my lower back and belly.
I tried to go back to sleep, but HA! Pain would not yield to Exhaustion. Pain wins!
At 3:30 am I drove myself to the hospital, again, after three hours of pacing the floor, hoping for the pains to go away. False labor pains go AWAY when you walk around. The BOOKS say so.
Well, Pain does not yield to Books. Pain wins!
I got hooked up to some monitors. Told to drink a huge jug of water and left to writhe. Oh agony!
At least I got to play a game. It was called "Guess When You're Having a Contraction!"
I even got a little buzzer to push every time I thought I was having a contraction. I pushed the button seven times in 45 minutes. Remarkable!
My accuracy was not great, however, since I only had THREE contractions during that time. Boo.
My lovely parting gift...well, first, I didn't get to "part" AND I got 2 lovely liters of intravenous fluids AND a shot of terbutaline to kill the contractions.
It's not a trip to Hawaii, but it'll do.
I also got a fantastic invasive pelvic exam. Whoo ha, hoo ha! Cervix is remaining and I quote the nurse "high, thick and closed" kind of like Snoop Dogg's eyes. Boo yah!

I also apparently have a wonderful consolation prize of bladder infection which they attempted to blast away with some equally wonderful IV antibiotics. Bladder infection??!?! Who gets those!? I thought only swamp rats and homeless people and people who don't change out of their bathing suits fast enough after a swim. Eh, what do I know!

At around 8:30 am they discharged me and I came home on about 3 hours sleep to watch the children (tear apart the house) all day.
Yay!
It's not fair really. The other moms at the OB department get to take home a cute powdery baby after all that grief. All I got was a paper admonishing me to drink more fluids.
Bah.

I'm TIRED.
I swear, if Dylan tries to jump out the window today, I might just let him.

Chuck E Cheese is the Devil

At least it seems MY kids think so.
Elizabeth was DYING to go to Chuck E Cheese's so we broke down and took her today.
The kids reacted pretty much as I expected they would....totally freaked out by the animatronic Chuck E Cheese Band. Especially the duck, or chicken or whatever that broad is.
My other observations:
Whak A Mole is not pleasant background noise when you are dining.
Chuck E Cheese pizza gives me a tummy ache.
Coke Zero is good.
Kids are animals.
There are too many cell phones and laptops in this world.
Five tokens is plenty for a three year old.
There's a reason why they serve beer and wine at Chuck E Cheese...see Whak A Mole.


Also, did you know that when you go into a Chuck E Cheese they stamp your whole party with the same invisible number so you don't steal an extra kid on your way out? Very clever.