6:29 AM - First of five wakes up. Others are awake two minutes later.
7:55 AM - Finish cleaning up breakfast mess and children ask how much longer until lunch is ready. Refrain from losing it.
8:12 AM - Dance on the couch and pretend you're Belle while singing a part to Beauty And The Beast. Child complains that your dancing gives him a headache and bursts into tears....real tears.
9:32 AM - Youngest child sticks his hands down his diaper and paints his face with poo. *Please note: the 'painting' was entirely accidental.
10:05 AM - Notice one of two frogs is floating upside down and has turned black. Gather children for proper potty burial/flushing.
10:38AM - Massive headache increases and you realize your coffee is still on the counter...untouched.
11:22AM - Second to youngest son colors on various places (including his skin) with a red sharpie.
11:40 AM - Colossal fight breaks out. Your children are battling over a fart machine.
12:03AM -Glance outside to make sure all offspring are safe and accounted for and tally 8 kids. Wonder where in the hell the overflow is coming from.
12:07 PM - A large amount of blue slime flies by your face and lands on the ceiling.
12:15PM - Change
Although this only takes you halfway through my day, and my timing may be a little off, everything listed above is very accurate. In fact, it's exactly how this morning went.
I've never been one for surprises. I like to know when, where, why and how at all times. Presents make me insane. Especially when they sit under the tree for 4 weeks before Christmas. Lucky for me, there hasn't been a present under the tree with my name on it since my children were born.
I used to wish that I could have a window to my week. Something that would give me just a glimpse of what lies ahead. I'd have more time to prepare for the disastrous occurrences that frequently take place within these walls. I'd go to bed earlier in an effort to rise ahead of the game the next morning. I'd be able to prevent things that drive me to the brink, such as running out of milk and paper towels, or brotherly battles involving fart machines.
But then I started thinking of the flip side. Every good idea has one. If I knew that my dancing would make my child complain of a headache, would it stop me from my (daily) routine of cutting it up on the couch? Probably. Would it prevent me from allowing blue slime into my home. Of course. And then, quicker than blue slime, it hits me. My favorite things throughout the day tend to be those that are unaccounted for. The "reality checks" that throw me off my game may very well indeed be the key to my sanity.
I've grown to accept the hidden mysteries of daily life with five boys. You have to agree, some things are better kept undercover until the time is right.
I don't know any mom in the world who would willingly get out of bed in the morning fully aware that in exactly three hours and 29 minutes, her youngest would become Picasso with a medium choice of poo.