It’s all I can do to bathe the kids, let alone myself. I had my mother over for 15 minutes this morning so that I could make airline reservations and not have to excuse myself for screaming kids in the background. I was giving her grief the other morning for still having her PJs on at 11:30 when I came tromping through her door with my three and a carload of supplies (stroller, baby chair, Mickey Mouse, Minni Mouse, “baby dog” (that thing that Ashton carries with him everywhere), diapers, change of clothes, swimsuits etc) and complained that I had been trying to get there (a mere 1.5 miles away) since 8:30 and it was the best I could do. So today I got grief when she sees that it’s noon and all of my kids are still in their mis-matched PJs, I have on a coffee stained leaking breast stained mis-matched PJ ensemble and my hair strangely piled on top of my head. I’ve been trying to take the kids swimming all morning but hadn’t gotten past the “waking up stage” and am still trying to feed Ashton oatmeal which I guess now will be lunch…it’s all a blur by day end. Her pj wearing is a luxury, me getting dressed is an afterthought.