10 minutes

Yesterday, my kids didn't give me a moment to myself ALL day. Even though I carefully plan their schedules and tediously prepare them to all take their naps at the same time, apparently they collaborated yesterday to stagger their naps and not give mommy even 10 minutes of kid-free time. Understand that I have 3 kids, and the oldest is 3 yrs old. I knew I should have broken up that whispering huddle they were engaged in after snack time. Oh well.
On days like this, I find myself standing near our front door with my forehead pressed against the sidelight window. Waiting. Waiting for my husband to get home. He usually arrives around 5:30. I am so lucky that he is VERY good about coming home on time, even occasionally early. It is 5:20. Sometimes 10 minutes feels like an eternity. Kid #1 is running in to tell me that kid #2 is standing on the fireplace hearth. Sigh. I'm holding kid #3 in my arms because he can't see out the window otherwise. I walk into the family room, conscious that if I move slower, more time will pass, thus getting me closer to the light at the end of this long tunnel. Kid #2 is not only ON the hearth, but he has somehow reached the fire poker that we keep on the mantel (out of children's reach, ha ha) and is wildly swinging it about not unlike a western cowboy might let loose a lasso. I am so tired. I put down kid #3, who immediately begins to cry. I take the poker. Now kid #2 is crying, too. Sigh. 5:25. Please be early today. Please be early today. I walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water and fetch #2's pacifier. And there in the middle of the floor is. a. puddle. of. pee. Thank you, #1. My day is complete. I thought you were potty trained?
When DH finally arrives I retreat into my "room" - otherwise known as the den, the office, the studio, mommy's workroom, or simply mommy's room. I shut the door. I may never come out. Sigh...