This is the day the Lord has made:

• 04:55 - Rhys starts doing this weird, moan-y, half-awake thing in his room. Joy.
• 05:10 - Andrew and I decide he's probably not going back to sleep until after I nurse him. So I do, then put him back to bed.
• 06:00 - After trying semi-successfully to doze, I realize he's not going to sleep, so I nurse him again, then put him back down again, praying he sleeps. (FYI: Yesterday was a no-nap day involving an extra infant whose disposition was pleasant but who also was quite proficient with the bodily fluids.)
• 06:30 - I roll over in bed, look at the clock in horror, and realize it's G whose awakened me. As per usual, I take him a breakfast of dry cereal and a sippy cup in his room and instruct him to stay quiet since his brother and I are still sleeping.
• 07:10 - I wake up again, and this time instead of fighting it, I sneak into the living room, open the laptop, and begin my morning reading with this Proverbs 31 Ministries devotional.
• 07:45 - I rescue G from his room, sit him on the potty, and start the business of watering the garden and letting the dog out of his crate in the carport and into the backyard.
• 08:00 - I give up on keeping Mater tethered to his cord, which is attached to a stake in the yard (our two year-old ornamental pear isn't hardy enough to handle his weight yet). Why do I give up, you ask? That would be because the dog managed to tangle himself around the tree and the concrete slab we usually use to place our patio table on less than five minutes after I put him in the yard.
  
• 09:30 - I begin hearing Rhys awake from sleep but continue to play trains and water plants with G for about a half hour.
• 10:00 - Get Rhys up, feed him, change him, dress him, kiss him.
• 11:00 - After sending G to time-out no fewer than five thousand times for various offenses, I begin making lunch and crashing after going to bed late (read: 11pm) too many nights in a row this week. And I begin looking forward with glee(!) to nap time.
• 11:20 - Andrew arrives home for lunch, both boys are nearly completely done being fed, and so's their mama. Hope and relief shimmer on the horizon.
• 11:45 - After a potty stop, G is put down to sleep, and I lay down with Rhys to nurse him.
• 12:00 - Andrew appears in the doorway to our bedroom and takes Rhys to booger-suck his nose so I can have a minute to doze.
• 12:40 - With Andrew gone back to work and Rhys looking almost ready to fall asleep, I put the baby down and head to bed m'self, only to realize at
• 12:45, 13:00, and 13:15 - that G is still. Awake.
• 13:45 - After awaking for the gazillionth time, I give up on bribing G to stay quiet long enough to fall asleep in bed and decide to make the most of the time by paying bills and balancing the checkbook.
• 14:00 - I hear scattered barks followed by the doorbell ringing and an urgent-sounding knock on the door. I naturally assume Mater has managed to get out of the yard yet again, despite the cone on his head (from his surgery earlier this week) and the chicken wire plugging up the holes he's dug. I open the door to find a startled-looking door-to-door housecleaning products salesman who, upon taking in my unkempt hair and squinty expression, assumes I just woke up and apologizes, then says he'll come back later. "Please don't," I say, "What do you need?" He tells me, I politely decline, and then silently thank God that I wasn't actually asleep when he came to my door, or I would surely have been decidedly less cordial in my disposition. Oh, and the noise (and perhaps a need to poop) wakes Rhys. Joy.
  
• 15:00- I begin looking forward to Andrew's arrival home but realize I need to get both boys out of their rooms, so I do. I take care of their various needs, Andrew arrives home, I tell him the finances are all taken care of and reconciled, and he gets online to wait to chat with one of his brothers via Skype.
• 15:45 - Since Richard isn't online yet, I decide to take G with me down to the corner mailbox to mail a few bills. But before we leave, I remember I've got a coupon for a free milkshake and decide to redeem it at Chick - Fil - A.
• 17:30 - After a couple extra stops, G and I arrive back home, chat with Richard for a few minutes, and then I begin making dinner.
• 18:15 - With dinner finished, I sense a golden opportunity to ask Andrew to take the boys for a walk while I veg on the couch. They leave, and approximately three minutes after I've actually managed to relax in our bedroom, the doorbell rings. Joy. Can anybody guess who was at the door?
• 18:20 - Seriously, salesdude? By this point, again apologetic, he looks so tired that I almost offer him a glass of water. Almost. I return to our bedroom to finish scanning Entertainment Weekly, but the article I'm reading contains spoiler-like details about Glee's season finale, so I quit reading and decide to watch some TV in the living room. As I'm going down the hallway, I glance into Gabriel's room and see a gecko I'm pretty sure is the one I spied last week and had all but convinced myself was a figment of my imagination. It wasn't. All hope of relaxing goes out the window as I begin periodically peering out the front window, wondering when my gecko-capturing husband will return home.
  
• 18:25 - Andrew arrives home, is shrilly instructed of the gecko's whereabouts, and is dispatched to take care of the problem. And it is a problem. God's creature a gecko may be, but in my house he need not.
• 19:25 - Both boys down, Andrew and I crack open a bottle of wine and unwind, ending our day with the season premier of "So You Think You Can Dance."
  

I guess this is the part where I rejoice and am glad in it, huh?