Buckle up Buttercup. This is going to be fun. Not Friday Night Video when you live so far out in the boonies during the ’80s you can’t get cable fun, but fun. I think. Especially since it’s post number 3 of the day. Really? What am I thinking?

So I’m sitting in a quiet house. Hanan is in bed drugged up. Bria is sleeping soundly. Ray and Arleigh are still out at softball practice. My laptop is resting on the armrest of my chair and there is a drink nearby. “Poor Ray!” I heard you say it. I might have thought so when he left almost 2 hours ago. Not now. Not after this night.

Yes, my sweet husband took pity on me. Knowing I needed to make two breakfast casseroles for Ladies’ Day at church tomorrow. Knowing this goofy antibiotic is still wacking me out a bit. Knowing I had a long day, even though he had a longer day he offered to take Arleigh to practice. This was even though I had the wrong time. See, Arleigh’s practices, times and locations have been all over the place. I thought to email the coach this afternoon to verify the time. Good thing I did. Since I was rushing off at 5:30 and practice wasn’t until 7. Whoops. You would think if I was that messed up, I would also verify the place. Nope. I’m smart, not brilliant. I sent Ray and Arleigh off to the wrong field. I was getting phone updates from another nine-year old trying to redirect Ray and one other misinformed parent to field 2 at 7:15. I am ever so grateful that Ray just rolled with the punches, driving Arleigh from field to field, discussing strategy or whatever dads discuss with their daughters about sports.

Yes, lucky me. I was left home alone with the littles. I finished up those casseroles in record time even though Bria insisted on helping and Hanan asked 1001 times what she could do. She missed her sister. She can’t possibly exist without her, you know the one she ignored from the time she got home from school unless she needed to stop and randomly yell at her. Hanan also has a cough. I swear she’s had it since we moved. It’s starting to drive me insane so it must be bothering her. I suggested a warm shower and then benadryl. Bria waited ever so impatiently for her turn at a bath.

Finally, Hanan is settled in at the computer. Bria went to the potty first (remember I’m smart) and then was playing sweetly in the tub. I grabbed my phone to feed my facebook addiction. It goes something like this… Look at that… pictures of a 5K in my little home town…Haha her tongue is hanging out of her mouth, wonder if she knows that picture is there… I’m thinking she didn’t run the whole thing (not that I could)… no sooner had I said, “Holy Crap! She looks like Shee-Ra Princess of Power! I think I need P90X for Mother’s Day!” Then I see Bria’s eyes. I hear her say, “Uh-Oh!” and then, she is her mother’s daughter. Before I can really figure out what’s going on she starts yelling “Get me out! Get me out!”

I look. There it is. Remember I’m smart, not brilliant. The child is pretty well potty trained but she has a hard time waiting for the poo. I could tell she was a bit constipated all day. I sat her in a nice warm bath, let her play. No, I’m not brilliant. I should have been watching. Instead I was left to clean it up. It was cute when she was a baby. Now, constipated man poop runs through the two year old into the bathtub…not cute. Disgusting maybe, not cute.

Now the dishwasher is washing her bath toys. The room has been sanitized. I may have ruined my favorite shirt with bleach and Tilex. Yes, I know now very environmentally friendly of me. I rinsed it. All my girls stick their faces in their bath water and no doubt drink it. I am far more afraid of eccoli than those cleaners at this moment.

Do you still think Ray got the raw end of the deal? He gets all three to himself all day tomorrow. I know that hasn’t happened since before Christmas without them being asleep. You might get another post before the weekend is up. My life is a constant adventure and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tell me, what does your Friday night look like? If you say date night, I think I’ll throw up a little in my mouth.