9:30 PM - Finish work for day job that has piled up throughout the day because my freaking kids are doing things like climbing walls and drinking leave-in conditioner. I did not just make that up. I literally had to check Ben's breath for traces of Pantene to see if I needed to call poison control.
9:32 PM - Start in on edits for THE LIES THAT BIND. Got to finish these bad boys tonight so Laura can wrap things up in the morning shift.
9:37 PM - 99% sure I heard a mouse. Stacey recommended clapping to keep it away, so I stand on the couch and clap like a maniac.
9:38 PM - My neighbor from next door is walking her dog and sees me clapping and jumping on the couch and waves at me awkwardly.
9:39 PM - I check our real estate portal for feedback on any of our showings. I really, really need to move.
12:24 AM - Rewrite the ending of the book with lots of [INSERT AWESOME POOL SCENE HERE] and [SOMETHING COOL NEEDS TO HAPPEN HERE. EXPLOSION?]
12:33 AM - Hit send.
12:34 AM - Pass out in bed inordinately pleased with myself for rocking revisions and kicking ass at work with 3 children and no childcare. I am a bad ass.
4:45 AM - Wake up to the sound of my husband's alarm. Surgery has left him temporarily deaf in one ear and homeboy wakes up EARLY. Briefly consider stabbing him awake.
4:46 AM - Fall back into a fitful sleep with lots of crazy half awake dreams where Ben is drinking Windex.
6:50 AM - Hear relatively quiet, yet persistent noises from Jack's room. "Mommy, I need to show you something. Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" So much worse than an alarm.
6:51 AM - Jack wet the bed for the first time EVER. And we're not talking a tiny little accident, it's full on man urine and it's EVERYWHERE.
6:53 AM - Strip the sheets and take them down to the washer only to see the $&*%&*& mouse. Yup, still haven't caught that little bastard. My friend has diagnosed me with a severe case of ninja mouse. This thing has successfully avoided 5 traps for the past 7 days. This little bastard is holding me hostage in my own home and now it's taunting me when I'm carrying urine soaked sheets. Not cool, mouse. Not cool.
7:01 AM - Ben is awake and he's screaming. Guess they must lace leave-in conditioner with amphetamines or something.
7:02 AM - All three children are awake and screaming and someone I work with wants to have a conference call.
7:03 AM - Corral all children into Ben's bedroom and double check that there's no drinkable beauty products on hand.
7:05 AM - Talking on the phone, taking care of business like the bad ass, multi-tasking mother that I am.
7:06 AM - Something upstairs crashes.
7:07 AM - Still talking.
7:08 AM - Mia is screaming at the top of her lungs.
7:09 AM - OMG WHY ARE YOU STILL TALKING? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? HAVEN'T YOU EVER HEARD OF EMAIL?
7:10 AM - Jack is laughing like a maniac and Ben is yelling "NO!"
7:11 AM - Seriously? You're still going? SERIOUSLY? WHY? WHY? WHY?
7:12 AM - Hang up the phone to find all children still alive, no blood and with relatively minimal psychological side effects. Victory?
7:13 AM - Get an email from Laura. The end of the book is broken. Need to rewrite it, but she's leaving for the weekend. Maybe we can just turn in the book on Monday.
7:14 AM - Cry a little.
7:15 AM - Get an email from our realtor asking if we'd be open to dropping the price of the house another $10,000. For the record, that will put our list price at roughly $30,000 LESS than what we paid for it in 2005.
7:16 AM - Cry a LOT.
7:17 AM - Call husband at work. Cry to him.
7:18 AM - Call my mom at home. Cry to her.
7:19 AM - Consider calling Laura to cry to her, but I hate her too much for tearing apart my pathetic ending to the book.
7:20 AM - Consider calling Stacey to cry to her, but know she'll try to cheer me up and say soothing things and I'm so not ready for soothing.
7:22 AM - Cry some more.
7:23 AM - Ben pours an entire water bottle all over his last clean shirt.
7:33 AM - Can't remember the last time I took an actual shower, so I decide to risk it. The human tornado otherwise known as my son, proceeds to tear through our bathroom. By the time I've lathered up my hair with shampoo he's already unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper onto the ground and thrown a brush into the toilet.
7:35 AM - Ben's entire diaper explodes in what Jack coined a "poop tsunami" while I'm rinsing.
7:38 AM - Jump out of the shower, drag my laptop into the bathroom and toss Ben into the tub.
7:39 AM - Get an IM from someone else at work who wants to have a "quick chat."
7:40 AM - Cry some more.
7:41 AM - Get an email alert that the house we've been obsessing over sold after being on the market for less than 72 hours.
7:42 AM - Cry again.
7:47 AM - Admit defeat and call in reinforcements.
This story has a somewhat happy ending. I was rescued by the 13-year-old girl down the street and the Regulator who helped out with the kids for the rest of the day. So I was able to fix the end of the book and kick a small amount of ass at work.
Sadly none of this changes the fact the only topless guys I see on my Spring Break every year, look like this:
Instead of this: