8 AM: Rise to smell of coffee, wonder why I am so fatigued. Remember that daughter #2 woke in the middle of the night and threw up grilled shrimp on the guest bathroom rug.
9 AM: After two loads of laundry, a to-do list, and three phone calls are made, change enormous poop on two year-old while on telephone with friend. Agree to babysit her daughter for the afternoon.
9:30 AM: Smell paint - wonder why this is so, since the bedroom I am painting is closed off to children. Investigate, and find a dozen or so toddler-sized footprints of tan latex paint on wood floor leading to bedroom. Clean paint off of toddler. Field more phone calls.
10 AM: Friend's daughter steps on needle in office. Remove needle, dry tears, and bandage foot while shielding child from ball-throwing antics of two year-old.
10:30 AM: Sit older children down to do summer bridgework activities. Try and explain gerund phrases to thirteen year-old while six year-old picks nose and forces me to wonder if he will ever read or if we should push sports more aggressively.
11 AM: Second glass breakage of the day. Didn't feel like washing toddler's plastic Sesame Street cup and paid for it after he threw cute Cost Plus World Market glass tumbler at the wall.
11:30 AM: Feed the kids an early lunch and explain the necessity of quiet time before swim lessons. Friend's child, an only child, has perpetual look of shock on her face and you wonder what she says about your house when she talks to her mom. Make lame joke about how calm your house is, so much so that Buddhist monks come to your kitchen to meditate. Child just looks more stunned.
11:59 AM: Place call to husband and remind him that the children will be home alone tomorrow since I plan on going to work. Do not laugh when he jokes that I am escaping children through part-time work.
Fantasize about draining checking account and running away to the tropics and opening a shrimp shack on the beach. Decide I am too tired to drive to the bank, and the children are another day with an intact family.