Well, as I find myself in the "Mom" community, I suppose it's only right that I introduce myself in a Mommy kind of way. This post, written a couple of months ago, ought to do the job well.

Many of you have asked just what life is like with four children ages five and under. I thought I'd tell you about today--a typical day in the life of a mother of many small ones. Well, the first half of the day, anyway. And what makes any story better? Pictures, of course.

This morning I got up early because I needed to go to Walmart. It takes me so freaking long to get anywhere because everyone has to bathed and changed and fed. When I went to wake up Lil's Dude, I found that sometime during the night he's broken the cheap ol' crib we're using here at my in-laws, squeezed his way out of the broken side, and rolled around a bit on the floor. Naturally, after removing the plastic bag that had been right next to his face and getting the USED BANDAID out of his MOUTH, I took a picture. (His older brother, Scooby, whose leg you see off to the side, shares the room with him and has "decorated" it with some interesting foam things...)
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Sigh. Well, I got everyone fed and then put them all in the bath. Fluffy is perhaps getting a bit too old to have to share the bath with her little brothers, but she sure does help me a lot when she's in there with them!
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So finally we make it out the door. Seriously, this is a huge production. Four kids, four carseats with tricky buckles, etc. And we get to Walmart. Getting everyone loaded into the cart is almost as amazing a feat as getting them into the car is. And I'm never sure where to put the groceries, because I have absolutely no space whatsoever. (Bubba and Fluffy are required to hold on to the cart at all times, but they don't have to sit in it. Good thing, cuz I don't think they make a cart big enough)

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After our walmart trip, we came home and I threw a pizza in the oven. A couple minutes later, I could smell it burning, so I ran back to the oven to see how it could possibly be burning. Ahhh. Bubba thought that if he turned the oven up to 500, his pizza would be done sooner. Yum.

<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/azpbws4JtSg/RjGCmOV81XI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qwKEH7EyyY/s1600-h/burnedPizza.JPG"><img id="BLOGGERPHOTOID5057967449710581106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/azpbws4JtSg/RjGCmOV81XI/AAAAAAAAAEo/q_wKEH7EyyY/s320/burnedPizza.JPG" border="0" /></a>

So after making a pile of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I went into the bathroom and found this:

<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/azpbws4JtSg/RjGEMOV81ZI/AAAAAAAAAE4/QUSvokXtySo/s1600-h/toothbrushtoilet.JPG"><img id="BLOGGERPHOTOID_5057969202057237906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/azpbws4JtSg/RjGEMOV81ZI/AAAAAAAAAE4/QUSvokXtySo/s320/toothbrushtoilet.JPG" border="0" /></a>

Yes, that's my toothbrush. Yes, that's the toilet.

And so now I'm trying very hard not to contemplate whether or not my toothbrush has been in the toilet before--and I just hadn't ever known about it. I'd really, really rather not know.

And that brings you up until noon, at which point I put the camera away, but the craziness never ends. Many days are worse than this. I'm pretty sure that none are better. It is always, ALWAYS madness around here.