Maybe this post explains...

...why my house looks the way it does? Or why I never feel I have enough time in the day? Or why I have that annoying little nervous tic?

Today, as I was leaving from McKenzies' swimming lessons I almost ran over four separate children. They were darting between parked cars, dashing in the road, chasing after balls, and who knows what else. No parents in sight. Mental note: next year, don't book swimming lessons in the same park and same week as the county arts festival.

We somehow make it home, and about the time I strip off McKenzies' swim suit, the door bell rings. I instruct McKenzie to wait in the bathroom for me, but of course, she's soon standing at the door, somersaulting in all her glory in front of my neighbor.

The neighbor leaves, and I tackle McKenzie and dunk her in the bath. In the meantime, the baby has found my juice and begins to bathe herself (and my carpet) in it. Apparantly, she's now tall enough to reach things from the end table.

I begin mopping up the mess, and then dunk baby in the tub. In the meantime, McKenzie had been brushing her hair, but somehow knocked over daddys cologne, where it breaks and spills all over the floor. Scent overload. Glass everywhere! Kenzie gets banned to her room (and safety) and baby gets locked in her crib where she wails. And wails. AND WAILS!

The glass finally gets cleaned up. No cuts! But, for some reason I don't think anything will ever smell the same again. Baby is rescued from the crib, and I ask McKenzie to pick out a book for us to read.

Reading time/cuddle time begins but Alli can't give up her independance long enough to finish the story - she's set free to crawl around the living room.

Book is finished, toddler is happy, and where is baby? BAH! Beginning to eat the check the neighbor just dropped off. Did I mention I just found out she was tall enough to reach the end table!?!