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I tried to get the doctor to give me a note ordering bedrest yesterday. It didn't work, and I'm mad. Mad and tired. And right now I'm arguing with Lukas over why I gave him a short sleeved shirt to wear if it isn't warm outside. Also about why he needs to wear clothes at all, most especially underwear. He doesn't see the point of underpants at all and it's gotten to the point that he'll pretend to put them on and then hide them in his toybox so when I clean up in there, I find a nest of all the underpants I've been yelling at Nick for not returning. ("Why would I keep underpants?" he says. Why indeed?) So now I have to watch him get dressed all the way through. Like I have nothing better to do than be the underwear patrol. Today I'm also the kleenex patrol. I have one kid with a runny nose and every time he blows it, the other five decide that they, too, must blow their noses. God forbid any of those kleenexes would end up in the garbage. Did you not know that it is much more fun to shred them and feed them to the stupid dog that is back in my house yet again (because it finally broke out of the ghetto ass cage it was confined in in its own house and tore up the joint pretty spectacularly and its owner won't be home until tonight). If that dog starts puking, I'm leaving. All these kids can stay here and feed kleenex to the puking dog and I'll be in Miami. Or Anchorage. I don't really care. As long as I'm alone. Holy shit, guys. It's March? Kids are: Shouting despite my constant reminding of "No shouting, please". Last person who pissed me off: I'm not telling. Yet. Heard in my house: "It's a monster! Oh. No, it's Mommy." Thanks. Miss Anything? pics - 2007-06-05
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