One of "Those" Days

For the time only being shortly after 9 a.m., I sure am exhausted!

Jackson has been getting up in the middle of the night to play. Or he'll crawl over to the TV and start pushing buttons on the DVD player, then look at me like, "Um, hello, Elmo is in that little box... let him out, would ya?"

Last night he got up around 1:30, and the last thing I remember was Rosie O'Donnell singing something about rainbows and holes in her shoes at 3:45. At 5 a.m. I found myself passed out on the couch and Jackson doing the same on the floor.

We knew there would be a 2-hour delay for school this morning, but I got up shortly after 7 anyway to make puppy chow for the girls' class Christmas parties today.

I just head toward the kitchen when Jackson wakes up. Chelsie says she'll get him, so I go about my business. A few minutes later, Chelsie yells that he's wet up to his nipples and there's a puddle on the couch.

In the pantry I found both boxes of Chex I had bought specifically for this purpose to have about a cup of cereal each in them. Jeremy strikes again. Luckily, I had a box of Crispix in the back of the pantry, so each girl is just going to have to take a less than full bag of puppy chow and Mommy doesn't get any leftovers. Probably better that way.

I can't find the lid for my giant Tupperware bowl, so I try to cover it in foil as I shake the powdered sugar on the cereal. A giant white cloud arises from the bowl and settles on everything within sneezing distance.

Meanwhile, Brayden is on the couch absolutely HOWLING that he wants me to help him put together the puzzles he got yesterday for his birthday. Turning five has certainly done a number on that boy's behavior, and I've already told him that Santa leaves gift receipts and Wal-Mart takes returns from the North Pole.

Finally I get a moment to sit down and make a grocery list for this weekend's Christmas dinner with Jeremy's family. The girls are cleaning up the mess from the puppy chow. Jackson senses the lapse in security and dumps an entire glass of ice water on himself, the floor, and the recliner. Now *he's* howling because he's cold, wet, and I'm yelling something about a moment's peace.

And the day has only begun.