I've been staying up late, reading Melanie Lynne Hauser's Confessions of Super Mom while my slumbering husband does his best to ignore the quaking mattress from all my guffawing. I can't recommend this book enough. It's really a wonderful read. From a far-fetched, hilarious scenario, Melanie has crafted a wonderfully real, touching and charming story. The dialog is really fantastic. As funny as it is, I have been surprised how often this book has yanked at my heart-strings. Go out and get yourself a copy, and then buy one for a friend (and your mom would love one, too!)

*edited to add* Melanie is busy writing the sequel right now! Yay! More Super Mom to come!

Of course, all this staying up late business has me extra exhausted.
My tail is riding so low I'm sending a shower of sparks down the street behind me.

We went to the zoo with the lovely notcalmdotcom family yesterday. Our three, plus their four, plus another child who came as a guest and we were up to eight kids, five of whom enjoyed a good meandering in the opposite direction as the pack, and the occasional 50 yard dash around a corner. (Yes, all three of mine are included in that five. Heh.) Even with four adults, and excellent zone defense, we didn't get a lot of conversing done. All in all, it was excellent fun, and left me in utter awe of my internet friends who deftly raise large families and still have spunk to spare.

As for me, I'm pooped. Man, my kids love it when I say that.

This morning marked the start of Crazy Scheduling 101. Son into school 8:10. Daughter in at 9:10. This meant that I spent a hour hanging out with my girls and my dog, who I brought along for the walk (but really prefers to stay in constant motion - she's not a patient breed, which figures given the rest of the family.)

We camped out at the school playground, where I was force-fed Peanut Butter Panda Puffs by my two year old. My six year old brachiated back and forth across the bars for a while, and then she came over and sat next to me.

"Mom, wanna see what I play at recess?"

"Sure," I said.

I watched, delighted, while she showed me where she and her friends stand and how they decide what animal they will pretend to be. She said they really do horses a lot, but she prefers to be a soaring silver pegasus with a rainbow mane. (Well, duh, I thought. Who doesn't prefer that?)

Her eyes were lit up with the joy of it all. I was reminded how very jaded I've become, and how wonderful the world is through fresh eyes. So often in the last year, I've focused my attention on the younger kids. I forget that she's just as needy as the younger two sometimes. That single hour pulled my six year old into sharp focus for me. It was a tiny gift, slipped into my pocket as I made my way home with my youngest.

Afternoon rolled around, and I found myself speed-walking back to school to deliver "the mystery can" to my son's classroom. I hate the mystery can. You have to come up with something to hide inside and then write clever clues so the kids can guess what it is.

My son chose a model of an oviraptor. When I burst through the classroom door at five minutes to the final bell, he beamed as the teacher told him to go get the can from me. He stood right next to her, lips pursed and eyes all squinty as the class guessed at his clues. After the first two clues were read, he stood on tiptoes and whispered an additional clue in her ear "They were super sneaky!"

The teacher gave it to the kid who said dinosaur, but allowed my son to share that they were "oviraptors" specifically, and he almost launched himself into orbit what with all the happy wiggles.

I stepped back outside the classroom and waited by the door. My son sat inside at the table nearest to the door, and beamed at me through the glass. I waved. He blew a kiss. I blew one back. He winked. I winked. He mouthed "I love you, Mommy!" and I melted into a gooey heap. He loves school, sure. But he loves his mama, too. Another token to nestle in my pocket for the difficult times ahead.

At 1:20, he was done for the day, but my daughter wasn't done until 2:30. Off to the park we wandered. It was about 90 degrees today, so most of the kids left the park quickly, and we had the place to ourselves. We rested in the shade of a tree, talking about the things he loves (the mystery can, for starters) and just enjoyed each other.

When we fetched my oldest from class and started for home, the bubble of peace popped. There was whining and bickering and complaining galore. It was hot, we were all tired, and my littlest miss thang wanted out of the stroller (fine) but wanted to be barefoot (not fine.)

Back at home, my mom announced that she was coming to pick up the children and take them swimming, which got me all hot and bothered for some stupid reason. I didn't want them to have one more activity for the day, because I was tired. They've been staying up too late, and I was afraid that a car ride in the late afternoon would cause late naps and later bedtimes.

Sometimes, I'm just a raging jackass. I had almost four hours of kid free time! Wooo! I mean, I liked the special time with each of my kids today, but special quiet time for me, too? And I was mean and crotchety and my mom told me to get over myself and came anyway and it was all good? Wahoo!

Apparently, sometimes I just need to get over my bad self.

I've got a slumbering house (well, except for the wandering, no-sleep needed, just feed and set her loose toddler) and I'm off to finish Super Mom. I'll catch up on sleep tomorrow.