Happy 5th Birthday, Pirate!

My big boy is five years old today! It feels like he's been here forever. Yesterday I was telling him the story of the day leading into the night we went into the hospital to have him, and I realized that day was the last day we only had one child. Princess was listening to the story and said she wishes we could go back to her being the only kid... Tough luck, sweetie!

On July 9, 2007, I had my last doctor's appointment. They doctor said I was due July 6, but I thought I was due July 2, so by the 9th, I was ready to go. I was enormous and miserable. At that appointment, I still wasn't dilated, and I was scheduled to go to the hospital at midnight to get Cervadil on my cervix to get me dilating and start the induction. We left the doctor's office and took Princess out for a day of fun. We went to  the "big" mall and did all of her favorite things. We even made a Build a Bear for the new baby. After that we took her to my parents' house, where she was going to be spending the next few nights. We had pizza with my parents and sisters, hung out for a little while, and got ready to leave. I was crying leaving Princess behind that night. I knew that the next time I saw her, she would not be my only child.  I was incredibly nervous about going through labor and delivery again, but I was mostly scared about going from one child to two children. For three years and seven months, Princess was our only child. Everything revolved around her. I didn't know how I could love another baby as much as I loved her. I was really scared about that. On the forty minute ride from my parents' house to ours, Buster tried to joke around and make me feel less nervous, but it didn't work. When we got home, we watched the finale of Hell's Kitchen, watched the news, and left for the hospital, after stopping at Wendy's for a burger for Buster. 

When the in-house doctor checked me around 1:30 am, I was already 4 cm. All that mall walking earlier had gotten things going. He told me to sleep and they would start pitocin around 7am. We went to sleep, and around 5 I had to go to the bathroom. As I was walking to the bathroom, my water broke all over the hospital room floor. I yelled for Buster who came running in his socks and slipped in the water. Gross! He called the nurse, and from there things started to go fast. I never needed pitocin. My contractions started and sped up, and I had an epidural. I was able to take a little nap. My mom and sister came to be in the room, and I remember the doctor letting me know when it was time to push. I was really scared. I pushed for a couple hours with Princess and I didn't know what to expect this time. I pushed for a long time, but not as long as with the first baby. In the end, they needed to use the vacuum to get Pirate out. Now that I've had three more babies since him, I think that I could have probably given more and gotten him out without help, but in the situation, I couldn't do it. At 11:17am, my 8lb, 9oz baby boy was born. Andrew came into the world and I loved him immediately! In that second, I knew all the worrying was for nothing. I had plenty of love for him, and my heart had indeed doubled in love for my two children. I was so happy to see him and to be done with labor and delivery. I thought to myself 'Never again', but of course I was wrong there! 

July 10, 2007

We had a big party for Pirate when he turned one. We had friends and family and a big celebration. He had a Batman cake, which was really Buster's pick and not Pirate's! We didn't know that he'd be Batman obsessed within a few years!

July 2008 - one year old!

When he turned two, Pirate had a three week old baby brother. We took him to a bouncy place to celebrate, then had a birthday party with our family.

July 10, 2009 - two years old!

For his third birthday, we went to the "big" mall and to Build-A-Bear. We had a Pirate themed birthday party for Pirate's third and Trouble's first birthdays.

July 10, 2010 - three years old!
 (We've really gotten some use out of that birthday shirt!)

Last year when Pirate turned four, it was our second day of vacation in Ocean City. He thought that was the coolest thing in the world, being three when we left for vacation, and being four when we came home. Opening presents at the beach was a plus, too!

July 10, 2011 - four years old!

This year, Pirate has big plans for his birthday. He's been counting down since July 1st. This morning he said, "I've been waiting for my birthday all year!". That's a long time to wait! Yesterday he was rambling off a list of what he wanted to do for his birthday, including me serving him breakfast in bed and the kids breaking open a Batman pinata. He was up too early for breakfast in bed, so he got a candle in his Poptart and we sang Happy Birthday this morning. We've never had a pinata, and I don't plan on starting that tradition today. When Buster gets home, he's taking Pirate to the pool for a little while. Then we're going to play Glow golf and do some inflatables and have some cupcakes.

July 10, 2012 - five years old!

Happy Birthday, Andrew!

Grocery shopping during a heat wave

Holy cow, it is HOT out there. The high temperature for Baltimore for tomorrow says 109. That isn't summer. That's hell. The last time I checked, it's around 97 here. It's just like stifling hot out there. It's been like this for a week now, and it is brutal. We haven't gone out of the house during the day all week. I sat on my front porch this afternoon for a few minutes and the cement was burning my butt.  I haven't even wanted to go to the pool. I can see the parking lot from my house, and it has been packed. I don't like when it's that crowded. It's not relaxing, just annoying. I prefer the air conditioned indoors.

Yesterday morning, my dad picked up Princess and Pirate and took them to his house to spend the night. Princess has gone there before a bunch of times, but this was Pirate's first sleepover. He was so incredibly excited! He normally sleeps with around 75 stuffed animals on his bunk bed. He picked up about 50 of them to take for the sleepover. We were able to narrow it down to two. Thankfully he has an overnight bag and I told him anything he took had to fit in there. Princess is a pro at packing now, so she knew exactly what she was taking. The kids left around 11:30, and suddenly I only had three kids at home. Although Princess and Pirate are the "easiest" to care for, it still made such a difference to only have three kids. Rest time was great because all three little boys slept and I had 'Me Time', which unfortunately consisted of doing dishes and folding laundry, but at least it was quiet!

Usually my husband goes to the grocery store Thursday evening after work. He just goes on the way home to get it out of the way so we don't have to go during the weekend. I am very blessed in the husband department! Yesterday we had so many leftovers from our 4th of July cookout, he said he would go after work today instead. This morning, he had to get up at 5am to go to work, but was going to get done early, stop at the grocery store, and come home early to start the weekend. At 7:30, he texted me that someone called out and he had to stay through and work the dinner shift. I guess that's the downside to being the boss. So, since he's working 13 straight hours today, I thought the least I could do is get the grocery shopping done. Well aware of the fact that it was 300 degrees outside and I'd have to take three kids three and under with me, I decided it was still better than being at work all day.

My original plan was to get out the door by 9. Even with only three kids here, I couldn't get my act together, and we didn't leave until close to eleven. The big kids were going to be home around one, so I had to move it. Thankfully Curly just gave up his morning nap so I didn't have to work around that. Once everyone had shoes on and Superchunk was in the carrier, we headed to the van. Usually I make a couple trips to load everyone in, but today I was determined to do it all at once. I carried the carrier and held Curly's hand and hoped Trouble wouldn't run out into the street. Once everyone was buckled, I blasted the a/c and crossed my fingers that the little bit of gas I had would be enough for the trip to the store, because more than one stop was out of the question.

I was under the assumption that the store wouldn't be too crowded, but apparently when it's a zillion degrees out everyone goes to the store. I got a spot close to the cart return so I wouldn't have to carry everyone too far. Bonus, there was one of those carts with the bench seat on the back of it. It's not a car cart like Trouble really wanted, but it was one big enough to hold everyone. I parked that bad boy right up next to the van and unloaded the boys, then buckled them into the bench seat, pushed them around to the other side, unloaded the carrier, and hooked Superchunk onto the cart. This particular kind of cart is great to hold all of my kids, but weighs about 1000 pounds and is hard to push and maneuver. I really wanted to take a picture of it, but trying to fish my phone out of the bottom of my purse while steering this cart wasn't happening. The novelty of the fun cart wore off after about five minutes in the store and Trouble started asking to switch to a car cart. While it would have been really fun to walk to the entrance of the store, transfer three kids and some groceries to a different cart, and finish shopping, I passed on that idea. Trouble needed to make his own fun, so he held onto the strap that was hanging off of Superchunk's carrier, said he was on a train, and made a "Choo-Choo" noise as loud as possible for the rest of the trip. Curly started whining, I guess because he wanted a strap too. I gave him one of Superchunk's toys, and we played a fun game of 'Throw-the-toy-on-the-ground-and-have-Mommy-pick-it-back-up" for a few aisles. Somehow Superchunk slept through all of this. I maneuvered my giant cart that progressively got heavier through the store in record time. There was no backing up or going back to an aisle I already left. If I missed something, I'm going back alone to pick it up another day!

Finally, we made it to the checkout section. For some crazy reason, although the store was crowded, there were only three cashiers open - one of which was an express lane. Clearly this was not an express trip. And doesn't it figure, as soon I got close enough to start unloading my groceries, two more cashiers open registers. Such is my luck! The checkout was the hardest part of the trip. Even though this cart was enormous, I could still keep it in the middle of the aisles so that Curly and Trouble couldn't reach anything on the shelves. But at the checkout, it is very narrow. Trouble was right up on the candy section, touching everything. Curly was reaching for a balloon. Trouble started asking me every two seconds for a balloon, for a pack of M&Ms, for Skittles, for gum, for a different balloon... you get the picture. Curly started whining for Goldfish he saw. Superchunk started crying. In my head, I was cursing the cashier for being so nice to the person in front of me that they wanted to have a long conversation. She was super sweet to us too, despite the meltdowns that were beginning. When she was giving me my receipt, she asked if I needed help out to the car. I was tempted to ask if I could get help once I got home, but I didn't. I pushed the ginormous cart out the door into the sweltering heat and wished I could snap my fingers and be home. After I walked the 10 miles to the van, I loaded the kids back in, piled in the groceries, returned the cart (smart to park by the cart return!) and blasted the A/C. I was beyond a hot mess. Sweat was just pouring off my face. I looked back at the boys, and they seemed completely unphased by the heat. Burger King is in the same shopping center as the grocery store, so I told Trouble I'd get him some fries for being so good in the store. I knew deep down that the prize was really for me for surviving the store trip! 

Driving home, the gas light came on, but I knew I could make it home. No more field trips for today! When we got home, I took the kids in the house first. Then I really wished I had brought the grocery store helper home with me. I piled as many bags on my arms as possible and got everything in the house in two trips, again sweating like crazy. Before I put anything away, I fed the kids and inhaled my own Kids' Meal. Fast food always makes things better. Now I have no intentions of leaving the house anytime soon!

Poop Training Trials and Tribulations

Trouble has been potty trained for months, since before Superchunk was born. He's great about peeing on the potty, tells us when he has to go, doesn't have accidents, loves underwear, etc. Really for as much trouble as he causes, I was surprised at how quickly he was trained. Pooping is a whole different story. For the life of me, I could not get him to poop on the potty. Buster has way more patience than I do, and he is much more laid back. He has sat in the bathroom on a little stool with Trouble for hours waiting for him to poop. Finally, he went on the potty about a month or so ago. I swear, Buster sounded like he was coaching Trouble through labor the way he was talking to him about pushing the poop out. Since the first time, Trouble has pooped on the potty a total of five times. I know this because there are five stickers on the chart. However, he has not only pooped five times since then. He has pooped in his underwear a ton of times. He has pooped in his Pull-Up a ton of times. And best of all, he has pooped on the floor. I'll get to that in a second.

Every time I think we're making some progress in the pooping department, Trouble proves me wrong. We will be so excited, get him a prize, put a sticker on the chart, praise him, make it the biggest event in the world when he goes on the potty. But then, the next day or that same night, or whenever he has to go again, he'll revert back to going in his pants. Such a letdown. We look for all the signs of him having to go and get him on the toilet as soon as we see them. And he sits and sits and sits. Usually, once he goes, he's good for a couple days. I think he stores it all up because he doesn't want to deal with having to sit on the potty.

Last Friday morning he came in our room and said his tummy hurt. We knew it meant he had to go, so I put him on the toilet and sat with him. We sat and sat and sat until the other kids started asking for breakfast. I put his underwear and shorts on and took him down for breakfast. After the kids ate, he said, "My tummy feel all better", so he went downstairs to play. While I was cleaning up the kitchen, he came upstairs and said, "Something's wrong with me.". I asked him what was wrong, thinking he hurt his leg or foot, and he said, "There's poop in my Wall-E underwear.". All that time we spent on the potty, and he went downstairs by the train table and pooped in his pants! (He has two pooping spots in the house, the train table in the basement, and next to his bed) I got him cleaned up and dressed and figured that was it for a couple of days. That night after dinner, we were all in the basement watching 'Wipeout', and Trouble was playing with Curly. Pirate was next to me, and I asked him if he farted because I smelled the smell. When he said no, I looked across the room at Trouble who covered his face with his hands. He had taken a dump in his underwear AGAIN, and in the same room as the entire family! He didn't even run off to try to do it in private or anything. Must be somethin' about that train table.

Buster looked up some training tips online that night, and one of the tips was to have the child walk around with no pants or underwear on. It said it could take a few days, but they will eventually have to go, and they'll use the potty . Apparently they like the security of the poop going right into their diaper or underwear and they are scared to let it fall into a potty. I don't get it, and I don't remember that with Princess or Pirate, but Trouble is way different than they ever were. So, we tried it. The boy went bottomless all day Saturday. He's not to the point of wearing underwear overnight yet, although he wakes up dry every morning. I guess this is laziness on my part, because I don't want to change pee sheets. He wears a Pull-Up to bed. Saturday night, Buster put the big kids to bed while I gave Superchunk his bottle. Buster stayed upstairs for a little while, and I heard him yell, "You have got to be kidding me!". Trouble got out of bed and crapped in his Pull-Up. After walking around half-naked all day, and pooping twice the day before, he went right as soon as he had pants on. But what can you do? Try again the next day.

Trouble walked around the house (thankfully we don't go anywhere when it's 500 degrees out) sans bottoms all of Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. We did put a Pull-Up on him at bedtime, but even for naps he slept with no bottoms. I'm pretty sure any other kid would have a problem with this, but he did not. He didn't poop. Yesterday was the 4th of July, and we were having family over, so we knew he needed to wear pants. But I decided to have him wear shorts with no underwear. That way, if he pooped, it wouldn't be caught in something, but would fall on the floor. More work for clean-up, but I figured we should at least try it. When it was time for a nap, he kept coming out of his room because we had company. Finally he laid down and looked like he was going to sleep. I was just about to feed the baby when Trouble came running out of his room again and said "Something fall down in my room.". I thought he pulled his curtains down (regular occurrence) so I ran upstairs to put them back up on the wall. The curtains were still up. I asked him what fell, and he pointed around the corner next to his bed. Before I looked, I thought he had pulled down his floor lamp. He said, "That turd just fall right out my shorts.". Sure enough, there was a turd on the floor, right next to his bed, in his usual pooping spot. And he was freaked out. It scared him that the poop fell onto the floor. Buster dumped the turd and cleaned Trouble, and I cleaned the carpet. Trouble took a nap, and when he woke up he kept talking about the poop on his floor. It really bothered him.

Later in the afternoon, Trouble told Buster his tummy hurt and he had to poop. He said he wanted to sit on the potty to go. This was HUGE for us! Where he has pooped on the potty before, he has never told us he wanted to sit on it and go. He sat down, told Buster to leave the bathroom, and he pooped! He even said my favorite words, "DADDY, I'm DONE!!". He said he didn't want to poop on the floor anymore. He said the turd on the floor scared him. This is major progress! I don't know if he's poop trained for good, as it's only 24 hours later. Today he's wearing shorts without underwear again, and I keep reminding him that he has nothing on to catch the poop if he has to go. He may not go for a day or two, but hopefully he will tell us again and use the potty!

Getting old sucks.

I'm only in my early thirties, and this getting older thing totally sucks already. Why do we have to age? In my head I feel like I'm 25 at most. In my head, I also picture myself with the body I had when I was 20, but that's another story :) I know things could be worse, and I also know they will progressively get worse as I get older. I'll try to stay positive about things, but at the moment this aging thing is getting on my nerves. Here are some things that are bothering me right now that I just don't understand.

1. Facial hair - There is no need for women to have a moustache. Or a beard. Or any weird long random hairs on the chin or face in general. Some of the long hairs I find on my face are ridiculous. When I go to get my moustache waxed (which has become a regular occurrence), my lady sometimes asks, "You want whole face?". Does my entire face need waxing?? And how much would that cost? Also in the realm of facial hair, my eyebrows now grow in from my eyebrow line to my lash line. Not like a full on fur, but random eyebrows popping up all over my eye lids. Also not attractive.

2. Gray hair - My hair started turning gray pretty much as soon as I peed on the stick with my first pregnancy, when I was 23. That is really young to start getting gray hair. It's not awful, and I don't have a head full of gray hair, but still... gray hair is not attractive on me at my age. Maybe one day I'll embrace it, but not at age 32 (or 25, as I want to be!).

3. Wrinkles - Again, not acceptable this young. I'd never do the Botox thing or anything like that, but I'd still like to have a few (20+) years before having to deal with lines on my face. I also seem to have a permanent line between my eyebrows, I'm guessing from frowning and yelling at my kids all the time.

4. Hard, crusty feeling feet - I know that sounds gross. I hate feet in general. I can tolerate my kids' feet, but not grown up feet. I have issues with having to see feet on a regular basis at the pool. Don't get me started on  toes, and the length they should be. When I was a kid, I made fun of my mom for having crusty feet. And now, payback is a bitch because I have them too. "Get a pedicure." seems to be the easy solution. Except they are expensive and I end up with about 2 seconds of soft feeling feet. I try to sand these bad boys down as often as possible and slather on as much lotion or Vaseline as I can. I keep up on painting my toenails, especially in the summer, to try to keep them from being totally gross. But the feeling of the hard pieces skin getting caught on a blanket or the sheets is the worst. Why can't we all have soft feet?

5. Skin - The same applies to the skin on the rest of the body. I look at my babies and how soft and pure their skin is, and I am totally jealous. They have this perfect smooth skin. I have to put lotion on twice a day just to not have ashy looking skin, especially in the summer. Then there are freckles and moles all over. And dark spots. And skin tags. And stretch marks. And cellulite. Seriously, is this all necessary? The fat parts are my fault, and the stretch marks are courtesy of the five kids. But all of it combined, on one body, is straight up ugly. And I've seen old people skin... I'm guessing it's all downhill from here!

6. Sagging skin - Maybe it's gravity. Maybe it's fat. Maybe it's age. I don't know. But my eyelids don't seem to be where they used to. Is this why people get face lifts?  If you're a woman, you know your boobs don't stay in place as you get older. And I've had five kids, so it's not a pretty picture. And my butt definitely isn't where it used to be. I have a birthmark on my upper thigh. When I was a kid, it was on my hip. Between getting fat, getting old, and gravity (?) it has traveled downward on my leg. I guess it will be on my foot by the time I'm elderly.

7. Veins - Where did these veins come from? Has the blood in my body increased dramatically since I was younger? I know that pregnancy makes veins more visible because there is indeed more blood going through your body to help the baby. However, I still have more visible veins than I did when I was younger. And I have these ugly spider veins on my calves. Spider veins are exactly what they sound like. Maybe I should get more tattoos to cover the ugly parts of my skin. But then my whole body would be covered in tattoos, and they're expensive too.

8. Aches and pains - I used to be able to wake up and get out of bed feeling great. Now I have to stretch to feel normal. My knees crack when I walk up the steps. My back is sore after a long day. Or a short day. Or when I wake up in the morning. Sometimes my heels or the balls of my feet hurt. Sometimes they hurt at the same time. I'm convinced I'm going to need a walker by the time I'm 40.

9. Metabolism - I think at one point, way, way back, I had some metabolism. I was never a real exercise addict or anything, but I don't think weight just sat on me like it does now. I know, I need to exercise more...or exercise period. And stop eating so damn much food. But I still feel like I was able to burn it off easier when I was younger. I could be wrong.

10. Bladder control - I know this is a result of having so many babies. And no, I don't pee my pants or anything like that. But when my kids wanted me to jump for something the other day, there was a little leak. And jumping jacks are out of the question. Which reminds me I need to do my kegels.

I should mention that I'm not as big of a pessimist as I sound in this post. I know there are good things about getting older. I just can't think of them at the moment!

The L-ers

For some reason, Trouble adds -er to any words that have an L in them. Most words that end in L get -ers added to them. Here are some examples:

"Don't cut my toenail-ers and fingernail-ers!"
"The wheel-er fell off my truck!" followed by "The wheel-er is wet. I put it in the toilet."
"Can we have B L-er T's for dinner?"
"I want to get the mail-er out of the mail-er box!"
"Where is the whale-er?"
"It's not a pail-er, Mommy, it's a bucket."
"Where is the doggy's tail-er?"
"I want the Star Wars towel-er for the pool!"

He cut pool-er back to pool after Princess and Pirate corrected him. They must have gotten tired of hearing about it.

Other funny things that Trouble says are:

It's 39! - He yells this whenever the dryer buzzes when the laundry is done. I have no clue what it means. (Maybe because sometimes I have Princess turn the dryer back on to 40 to run for 40 more minutes. I'm not sure.)
patruder - computer
PSun - Capri Sun
Otay - OK
Et-snooze- me! - Excuse me
Pschool - preschool

For the 'SP' sound, he says 'F'. For example:
finkaler - sprinkler
fit - spit
fot - spot
Fongebob - Spongebob
foon - spoon
fider - spider
Fite - Sprite
faghetti - spaghetti

We work with him to try to fix his mispronunciations. But some are funny. My husband thought it was funny to get him to say 'spagina'. You get the picture.

Having two older kids, I know he will outgrow saying words the wrong way, so I figure I'd try to keep track of some of the funny things he says right now.





                                                                              .

Where does the day go??

 Every day this week, I have had good intentions. I intend to get things done around the house, get the kids outside and play with them, and feel accomplished. And every day I look at the clock between 4:00 and 5:00 and wonder where the day has gone and what I did all day. At that time, I feel the need to clean up messes (again) and try to get the house looking somewhat decent (again), start dinner, feed the baby (again), etc. When my husband gets home, I want it to look like I did something...anything...during the day. Most of the time it doesn't look that way. And I don't know what happens to the day. I feel like I have ADD when I can't finish one task at one time, but I think it's just called being a mom, and a mom of 5, to boot. There are simple things I want to get done each day, but nothing too big that should be a problem. For example, the batteries in Curly's crib projector are dying, and it makes an awful sound when he turns it on, so that was on my list of things to do this week. Simple enough, right? I finally just did it today, Friday. Every time I put Curly down for a nap or to bed for the night I remembered I needed to change the batteries. That would remind me that I wanted to attach the light up aquarium to Superchunk's crib too (which also needed new batteries). And it took me all of five minutes to change the batteries and re-attach the things to their cribs. (side note, I'm disappointed in both of these toys, as the tabs to attach them to the crib broke off both toys within the first three times they were taken off to change the batteries.)


Yesterday my big plan was to clean the stroller. We have three strollers. One is an umbrella stroller, one is a double stroller, and one is a regular stroller. This one is our original stroller we received at my baby shower nine years ago for Princess. It has been good to us. Maybe I should have been better to it, as I have only taken it apart to clean one time, and that was before Pirate was born five years ago. Gross, I know! So, Wednesday night I decided to take Superchunk with me to Pirate's swimming lesson. We walked to the pool and I pushed Superchunk around in the stroller while we watched. Poor baby doesn't get out for fresh air very much! I started looking at the stroller and realized how dirty it was. I thought to myself that I should clean it soon, meaning sometime within the next two years. When we got home, I left the stroller outside while I changed Pirate into clothes. As we were walking to the car to go get a snowball, I noticed bird poop on the seat of the stroller. That bird decided I needed to clean the stroller sooner rather than later. So, yesterday I brought it in the house, took it apart (which required tools!) and washed all of the fabric parts. I laid them out to dry, in the laundry room, because with my luck if I laid them outside another bird would crap on them. Then I scrubbed, and I mean scrubbed, the frame of the stroller. I even took it outside and hosed off the wheels! Let me just say, the creator of the Magic Eraser is a genius! The stroller went from filthy to new(ish) looking! The tray is still scratched and it has other spots and scratches on it, but for the most part, this stroller looks great! I even put it back together on my own. And this project took me ALL damn day! At 4:30 yesterday, I looked at the clock, looked at the stroller, and realized that was where my day went.

I do the same thing every morning. Feed the kids, clean up the kitchen, straighten up the middle floor of the house, have kids do chores, feed baby. Sounds so simple. Looks so simple in writing. Why does it take hours? This is how today has gone:

Wake up, take Trouble to the bathroom, put on his underwear. Get up Curly, change his diaper, take him to kitchen. Three boys are up, Princess & Superchunk are still sleeping. Break up a fight over who sits where at the table. Pour milk for all three and give to them. Take breakfast orders. (Apparently I run a full service restaurant.) Answer customer questions - "Do we have any more chocolate poptarts?". "Do we have any more pancakes?" No & No - it's grocery day and it looks like Mother's Hubbard's Cupboard over here. Serve blueberry Poptarts. Cut up a banana for Curly. Give Curly half of a bagel thin. Put my bagel thin in the toaster. (Bagel thins are the healthyish alternative to a bagel, I guess. I only bought them because they were on sale and I couldn't find any regular plain bagels.) While the bagel is in the toaster I refill a milk, wipe up milk that was splashed on the table, and tell Trouble to stop sprinkling Poptart crumbs on the floor. Then I smell smoke, my burnt bagel pops up, and the smoke detector goes off. All three boys immediately start crying. Fan the smoke detector, open windows. Crisis averted. Shit, it's grocery day and that was the last bagel. Eat it anyway. Remind myself to be thankful the coffee turned out right. Send boys to play, drink coffee in "peace" while Curly walks around. Tell Curly to stop touching that. And that. And that too. Move recycling bin out of his reach. Move pans out of his reach. Block trashcan so he can't get to it. Remember coffee. Pour out cold coffee and refill. Clear table. Remember dishwasher is clean. Empty dishwasher. Start to reload dishwasher. Break up fight in basement over Legos. Answer phone and feel relief to sit down and talk to my friend for a few minutes. Enjoy coffee while on phone. Tune out the incessant "Mommy" coming from the basement. Finish coffee and conversation. Finish cleaning up kitchen. Trouble comes upstairs to announce that he has pooped in his underwear. Curse like crazy in my head while I dump his poop in the toilet and wipe him. Tell him he's not playing in the sprinkler today. (It's 200 degrees out so we weren't going out anyway.) The Princess awakens and wants breakfast. Run through the pretty non-existent menu and make her a bowl of cereal. Throw in a load of laundry. Think to myself if I had just put the laundry in when I got up it would be done by now. Oh, well. Look at clock - 10:30. Naptime for Curly. Lay him down, wake Superchunk. Get him dressed. Tell other kids to get dressed. Help Trouble get dressed and brush his teeth. Feed Superchunk. Listen to an argument over what show to watch. Listen to an argument over Legos. Listen to an argument over books. Listen to an argument over someone sitting in someone else's spot on the couch. Yell downstairs to stop arguing. Clean up Superchunk's spit up. Change Superchunk's clothes. Clothes? Oh right, put the clothes in the dryer. Get laundry together to put in another load. Wake up Curly. Change poopy diaper. Get myself dressed (finally). Go downstairs to hear another argument over Legos. Yell at kids and threaten to not let them go to pool with my mom and sister, secretly knowing that I will just be screwing myself if I keep them home. Start writing this blog. See that it's going on 12:30. No computer time. Start making lunch. Lay Superchunk down for a nap. Remember batteries and change them. Back to making lunch. Heat up leftover hotdogs for Trouble and Pirate. Make tacos for Princess (leftovers), give Curly his lunch. Listen to Pirate, Trouble, and Princess simultaneously complain about their lunches. I'm sure Curly would complain too if he knew how. Start to clean up from lunch. Trash is full, take out trash. Wipe up spilled ketchup from floor where Pirate tried to clear his spot but the trash was too full. My mom and sister get here. Tell Princess and Pirate to get their bathing suits on. Apply sunscreen. Pack towels, water, snacks, goggles, extra sunscreen. Wave as they leave. Comfort Trouble who cries about going. I know better than to try to send him anywhere with anyone. He's a flight risk and too much work. Lay him down for a nap. Lay Curly down for a nap. Feed Superchunk. Lay Superchunk down for a nap. Breathe a sigh of relief. Watch my soap in fast forward. Remember I need to run dishwasher, fold laundry, and register Pirate for soccer. Remembering to do things reminds me of my blog. Ignore other things and work on blog. 

Trouble is now awake. Curly is starting to make noise. I have the soccer registration screen pulled up but haven't finished it because my wallet with bank card are upstairs and I'm too lazy to go up and get it. The dryer buzzed 20 min ago, but I haven't gotten it out of the dryer. I have two loads to fold and put away, dishes in the dishwasher to put away, and random things that need to be picked up. And oh, look, it's after 4pm. Where has the day gone??