Estimated time: 8:15 a.m.

Lew is crying and screaming because he asked for breakfast, yelled for breakfast, cried in my face for breakfast. And then I gave it to him. I know. I'm a terrible horrible mother. As soon as I get to work I'm going to re-evaluate my mothering skills. And drink some vodka to chase the crack pipe I will smoke.

Dex is crying/pouting because I told him that working on his computerized/programable robot (complete with 100,000 small/delicate pieces) was a bad idea 30 minutes before school, in the middle of the living room floor, five steps away from Lew who likes to trash other people's stuff just for the fuck of it.

And where is Nev: hiding in his bed, naked, crying hysterically because he is asked to put on clean clothes (that is to say: clothes he hadn't been wearing for four days already). It is now ten minutes before we need to leave for school.

I have been awake for roughly 30 minutes. I think a job negotiating with terrorists while underwater fighting sharks would be easier than this. My Mother is definitely to blame.

But No Worries: No one was beaten. Or eaten. Or given away to the Gypsies. And when one of my profs revealed to me his partner is pregnant five seconds after I delivered the snotty/crying mess to school, I did my best to act like having children is a Great Thing and So Fun and Awesome. High Fives. Two Thumbs Up. Good Luck with That! I don't think he got my sarcasm.