Tonight I was home alone . . .with the three littles. Matt and the three older kids went to BSF. I let Lydia and Joel play with the only-to-be-used-in-extreme- situations play-doh. That kept them entertained long enough for me to check/send e-mail (something I'd been trying to do all day). The kitchen floor now looks like a modern art piece, but tomorrow is another day and I'll worry about cleaning it up then.
The last few nights have been a bit rough. Saturday night we had four kids in our room (2 on the bed, 2 on the floor) and then last night we had two. Matt thinks that maybe the reason Joel keeps waking up during the night is because he is getting cold. Tonight I put a zip-up Carter's sleeper on him. I told Lydia to get her p.j.'s on and we all hunkered down in the family room to watch "Antiques Road Show" (interesting to mommy, boring to the kids).
I'd reached my limit when Joel took the fly swatter and hit Jude on the head with it. "Lydia and Joel, you both lay down now, or you're going to bed," I barked. Just then a video clip of the Mamas and Papas singing "California Dreamin'" came on the t.v. Picture Joel in his feet p.j.'s grooving his head back and forth. Now picture this mommy laughing her head off. I think God was laughing, too.
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