Recipie for disaster aka: Breakdown on a biscuit

-Take one exhausted Mom.
-Add an overly stressed, and slightly worn out Dad.
-Throw in 4 extrememly hyper 8 year old boys.
-Stir briskly with a bossy 10 year old brother.
-Sprinkle with a cranky 3 year old potty training toddler.

Mix well on high speed. (Beware: After aggitation, contents are highly explosive. Use extreme care.)

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Holy crap on a crispy cracker it is insane here tonight! Kidlet Jr. is having 3 of his friends spend the night. Sort of a “last blast before we move” thing. (We are SO not going to even talk about the fact that we no longer have any idea when we are moving or what we are doing anymore.)

I mean, seriously, is it asking to much to just want hear myself shout over the noise? I am not asking for quiet, but for the love of Pete, can I please at least hear myself when I yell at you people?

I would ask Clint how he feels about it, but something tells me that the fact that he is sitting under his desk, rocking back and forth mumbling to himself is just not a good sign.

If I don’t blog tomorrow, send help. It means THEY took over and I am locked up somewhere. Either that or Clint and I took off for the Bahamas and could care less what they do to the house!

Oh no! I just heard a crash. Seriously, can I come stay with one of you?? ANYONE????

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