Reasons Monkey Joe's should have a margarita machine...

  So this morning started like any other normal morning in our house.  Molly woke up some where around 3 am, came into our room, and peeked over the edge of the bed.  "Mommy, I scared...I want up."  Super mommy would have walked her back to her bed, tucked her back in, and convinced her to sleep in her own bed.  Super exhausted mommy (aka Me) just scooped her up, tossed her into bed, and snuggled up to her "scared" daughter, praying for a couple more hours of sleep.  Perhaps it was something in the air last night, but in trots her older brother at around 6 am.  I pull him into bed as well, and realize that I have very little room left in our king size bed.  It doesn't take long for the sibling rivalry to start, even in their sleep.  Let the kicking wars begin, as well as the fight over who is closest to mommy.  I squeak out a few more minutes of "rest" before I give up, and turn on PBS.  We have a play date at 10:30 am at Monkey Joes, and at that moment, it seems light years away.  I proceed to walk around the house like a zombie, attempting to get things ready to leave, and make the kids their breakfast.  Molly has decided to help herself to breakfast this morning.  I had already handed her pancakes, but she decided to shop for something else while Mike and I were watching the news.  Mike found her sitting in front of the freezer, ice cream sandwich opened and unwrapped, spraying the sandwich with cooking spray, and licking it off.  Something is just not right with this kid sometimes...I mean, why would you ruin a perfectly good ice cream sandwich with cooking spray???  I take away the sandwich, clean her up, and get the kids dressed.  I jump into the shower, pull my hair back wet, put on some clothes, and I consider it a small triumph that we are leaving very close to "on time."
    Molly and Colin fight about what movie they want to watch in the car, and I burst both of their bubbles by leaving the radio on.  We arrive at Monkey Joes, only to discover they are paving the parking lot.  I maneuver around the paving crew, get both kids out of the car, and get into Monkey Joes.  My friend Sandra is awaiting my arrival, and I discover that the first three kids through the door are free.  Mine are of course number 4 and 5.  Oh well, mental note made.    The kids run off together, and start playing.  At some point, all four of our kids need to poop.  Jack was the first, then Lila managed to soil two diapers, Molly pooped in her pull up, and Colin had a small accident in his underwear.  I took Colin to the bathroom to finish the job, and we had a complete break down.  He hates public bathrooms, he is already a wreck from having a small accident in his pants, and he is constipated, as usual.  He is refusing to poop because it will hurt, and I can understand, but it needs to happen.  I spend at least 15 minutes in a smelly bathroom at a kids facility, begging my son and coaching him to "push it out, push it out, way out."  I swear, I even have to coach labor at home.  I pull out all of the stops, offer his favorite treats, and finally offer to let him play "Angry Birds" if he poops.  We have a small success, but I know there is more to come, and I can only hope it is enough to get us through the remainder of the play date.  We change pants, and continue to play.  Molly got stuck at the top of a slide, and refused to come down.  I had to climb all the way through a blow up obstacle course, and slide down with her.  She simply said "Thank you Mommy, can we do it again?"  I decide it is time to go.  Colin is requesting to go home, and I can only imagine it is because he still needs to poop, and Molly will likely climb back up the slide and stay there again if we stay much longer.  I stop by two stores looking for Luau party supplies for Molly's class party next week.  I pick up 12 grass skirts, some leis, tablecloths, and plates and napkins, and jump back into the car.

    We head home, both kids tell me they are sleepy.  I am hoping for a nap, but for some reason, that is just not in the cards for me today.  Colin is playing nicely in his room, but I just found Molly sitting on the floor of my room...with my shoe filled with Diet Pepsi, saying "boat" while she floats a measuring cup on a sea of diet soda.  I rescued the shoe, rinsed it out, and I have given her a very large bowl of soapy water to play with in the kitchen.  It seems to be keeping her entertained, and it could accidentally help me clean the floors before today is over, since more of the water is on the floor than in the bowl at this moment. Of course, I just managed to rescue the chocolate milk powder from being mixed into the soapy water while I was typing this post.  My child is actually a demon of chaos.  She is a devious, little imp.  An adorable imp, but devious all the same.  And this is why I believe Monkey Joe's could make a killing with a margarita machine instead of a slushie machine.  If Happy Hour started at play dates, by the time Molly had poured Diet Pepsi in my shoe, I simply wouldn't care.  Or that she just poured soapy water all over the dog's food...that wouldn't bother me either.  Sadly, I haven't even had coffee today, and the madness continues.  Luckily, we are going to a friend's house for dinner.  Not sure I have it in me to cook tonight...