Mark wakes us up for scripture study.
I have no idea what we just read.
Re-awaken to the sound of Jesse ripping the velcro off his nighttime diaper. Now I really must rouse.
Drive two kids plus two friends to elementary school.
Logan and I (with Jesse in tow) are 15 minutes early for a tour of this charter school where Logan will attend middle school.
I realize I forgot a piece of Logan's registration paperwork, so we whiz home and back.
We're right on time.
Logan hardly speaks a word throughout the tour. He's nervous about middle school in general and grumpy that his mom is pulling him from the regular public middle school and putting him here, where the students must wear unholy uniforms consisting of 1. khaki pants and 2. polo shirts. Oh, the horror!
The tour concludes. We drop Jesse off at preschool, only 15 minutes late.
Logan and I arrive at Denny's for his last braces-free meal. To my joy, he orders the classic: A Grand Slam Breakfast.
We pick up Jesse from preschool. Which doesn't end for 25 more minutes.
We pick up Haley from kindergarten. Which doesn't end for 15 more minutes.
We're almost on time for the dentist appointment.
Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs has now looped back to the exact spot where it was when we entered the waiting room. And Logan has blue braces. Which, turns out, look fantastically good on him.
Logan arrives at school. He vows not to open his mouth in public for the next eighteen months.
Logan rescinds his vow. (Or so I assume.)
Haley and Jesse are down for "quiet time" and I have one hour to write resumes before...
...we leave to pick up Roscoe and his carpool from middle school.
We're home. Now I have an hour to start laundry, start dinner, and do some maintenance housekeeping before...
...Logan and Levi arrive home. Snacks. Somehow milk gets splashed across the kitchen windows. Intense negotiations regarding the sequencing of wii turns. A certain someone loses wii privileges for the day after I notice that the timer he should have set for 20 minutes reads 20:15 after he'd been playing for at least five minutes. Roscoe heads for the gym.
It's quiet. Everyone has settled into some activity. Dinner is bubbling away on the stove. And no one is asking me to chauffeur friends.
The last wii turn ends, the last friend goes home, and within minutes, peace explodes like a bubble. Just as I'm about to slide the cornbread into the oven, three children are screaming at me. One of whom believes the rubber scraper I'm using is actually his sword.
Mark arrives. I rush my be-aproned self from the kitchen to greet him--because Fascinating Womanhood didn't get it all wrong.
Dinner is over. The dishes are mostly done. Mark, Roscoe, and Logan head out the door for Scouts. Later, Mark will shuffle Roscoe to karate and probably do some errands, both church- and household-related. Meanwhile, the little kids and I are about to start our weekly ritual of watching American Idol together. Yes, I know there are 957,000,000 better things we could be doing. But we kinda like this one.