Like, oh-em-gee I got it to work.

I was going to claim that Three Kid Circus is like a phoenix! Rising from the ashes, with brilliant plumage waving! Behold the wonder! But in all reality, what we've got here is more like my infamous barbecue chicken. Burnt to a crisp on the outside, but still raw on the inside. Mmm mmm good.

There are so many things to report, and apparently, I've got the ability to post at will. (Although God only knows what happens when I do. Perhaps when I post, somewhere in Kansas a blog will die. Sorry about that, unknown Kansas blogger. Want some barbecued chicken?)

So! Where to start? How about with the fact that this week was a minimum day week? All week long! Drop 'em off around eight, and they're all yours again at noon. Boy! Good times, there. Add to that a lingering cold, and my husband on a business trip for four out of five days and (oh yes) a broken blog...

Someone get the sauce, 'cause I smell barbecue. Oh. It's me!

Or maybe I should back up a little bit, and talk about the weekend. Last Saturday, I woke up at 7, puttered around answering emails and drinking coffee, and glanced at the birthday party invites on my fridge. The Multi-Holiday themed birthday party was at 1, fine, good good. The morning birthday party at the Inflatable Jumpy Place started at 11:30 - perfect...WAIT. NO. THE PARTY ENDED AT 11:30.

The party started at 9 am.

Queue the sirens - it was 8:20 am and with my spastic week, I had planned on shopping for a present on the way to the party. Now, with three kids still in pajamas and the mall not opening until 10 am, I was hosed. I did the unthinkable, and arrived at the party, informed the very understanding Kim that I had yet to shop for her child's gift, and oh, by the way, could I please leave my kids at the party while I ran to pick up the gift?

(I was not the only parent who dropped the kids and ran. I'm SURE I was the only disorganized, manners-challenged parent who pulled this particular cut-and-run. I'm lucky Kim is still talking to me.)

After the kids jumped until they were exhausted, they ate cake and drank juice and then dug into their party bags. Three minutes later, all the kids had both hands stuck in those woven finger traps, causing a fair amount of hilarity. I'm keeping a few of those finger traps in the glove box for those "Mom, He/She's touching me" moments. An even better party favor would be a muzzle.

Boy, you totally want me to throw a party now, don't you? I'll make barbecued chicken - you bring the muzzles!

Despite the frantic start, we completed party one and accelerated towards party two. Listen to me complain. ..like it is so difficult to attend a party.

I jettisoned the two younger kids at home, changed my oldest into her costume, the politically incorrect "Gypsy Princess" getup that we fashioned from some junk jewelery, a few scarves, and my Ren-faire wench costume. She thought she looked awesome, and all the other girls oohed and aahed when she walked in.

Back at home, I quickly packed a suitcase for all three kids, and rounded up sleeping bags and pillows - the kids were all going for an overnight to my parents' house. After picking up my oldest at her party and discovering that she had received another finger trap (wooo!) we headed to my parents' house for the drop off and then my husband and I sort of stared at each other wearily.

See, my parents were taking the kids so that the hubs and I could celebrate our 9th anniversary. We've been married a long time - almost a decade. Having an anniversary on 9-11 makes for a rather bleh kind of day - so we put off our evening out until the weekend - and once we got the chance to go out and party, we almost just fell into bed. Not because we were feeling frisky. Well, maybe because of the frisky, but mostly because of how tired we both were.

Instead, we headed out to our favorite Chinese food restaurant and made pigs of ourselves. And then came home and shared a pint of Ben and Jerry's. In bed. Aw yeah. We know how to party.

And - just like that, I'm done.