SATurday.

The day began at 7am (about 45 minutes before it usually does) with the two older kids asking too many questions, whining about being in pain or being hungry or the like. By that time, Benjamin woke up and began wailing from his crib. I ordered the older kids to take their quiet-time-in-the-morning-so-that-Mom-and-Dad-can-keep-sleeping into their bedroom so that Benjamin could be entertained whilst corralled in his crib. And in return, the 7:35am on the clock would soon turn to 8:30am and I would be ready to start my day.

Not so. Questions came and went; the pitter-patter of little feet pounded holes in my sleepy head and I was angrier than a banchy. Couldn't these little minds contemplate the idea of obedience at one of the most CRUCIAL TIMES OF THE DAY?

At the sound of Benjamin falling out of the crib, I slowly pulled the covers back (he was crying; and therefore, breathing), pulled off my husband's boxers from around my sore hips and butt which was a feat in and of itself, a result of running 4+ miles yesterday after not running for months, and slipped on my favorite pair of faded blue PINK Victoria Secret sweats. I threw on my grey GAP zip-up hoodie and walked out of the room... I slipped past Benjamin as he stood at the side of my bed, casually signaled to Katie and William as I went past their door 'I'm going downstairs now' and, in pain, winced with each step down. Upon hitting the hardwood floors I was instantly frustrated to another level -- I do NOT like not having my flip flops on... and I don't know where I left them last night. I didn't know what to do first:

- start the steel cut oats
- get the kids a piece of toast
- make a pot of coffee
- find my flip flops
- clear last nights 'snack' dishes from the coffee table
- empty the dishwasher
- wipe the dirty counter

... and on and on. Not all rational, of course.

What was that? Oh! You're wondering where my husband is? He's got the stomach flu and is sick in bed upstairs... which entitles him to breakfast in bed. Its how we roll in our family. It is never the sick-ee that feels entitled, its the children that have made the 'assumed' rule. I'm afraid I shot that one down soon after the second item on my list was accomplished... I NEEDED my flip flops and I didn't have much of a benevolent spirit at the moment.

The kids could sense that Mom was not feeling so excited about life this morning. They were beginning to understand that their morning party had just as much of an affect on Mom as it did on them - disciplines ensued after disobedience. They're little bums were feeling quite the affect. And no, I did not discipline them in anger -- although I wasn't smiling, that's for sure.

The morning continued and everyone lived. Although, come 5:12pm, I have yet to take a shower, I'm hobbling from one place to the next and have coffee on my breath. My hair is a sight to behold and my bra is still on the floor upstairs.

Its not a great day... but its not a bad day. Its just a day. A day where the little things get to me that usually don't, but a day where I'm able to contain myself from breaking a window. I haven't smiled a lot but I haven't yelled either. I haven't showered yet but I have done the laundry and vacuumed the entire upstairs. I haven't dressed the kids but I have changed diapers and wiped bums. I plan to bath everyone tonight in hopes of laying ourselves to bed with BIG HOPES on the horizon...

Tomorrow is a new day.