Tim isn’t coming home until after the kids go to bed tonight. It’s just Mommy and kiddos from sun up to sun down.

Shortly after leaving the house, Tim sent me this picture in a text message.

Cute, right? About twenty minutes later, Cole puked all over the couch.

I will punch anyone square on the nose if they say being a stay-at-home mom is an easy job. Well, probably not. But I might give it a good hard flick.

So, this cup of coffee went cold as I showered the two-year-old, removed the couch cushion covers that could be washed, and scrubbed and sanitized the ones that couldn’t. All the while, the four-year-old begged for his second piece of peanut butter toast and the eight-month-old crawled around into undesignated areas.

If Britney Spears can get through 2007, I can get through today.

Just breathe.

In other news, the boys are two sets of jammies away from being completely packed, baby girl is only bottles and formula away from being completely packed, and I’ve pulled out most of what I want to pack for myself! We have three days to get our act together, folks. Three. Days.

I might have lost it and shaved my head by then, but here’s hoping I make it to Disney, long locks in tact.

With love, Malorie