This Blog Is Long

In a previous post, I related my Tricare frustrations to you. Since then, I've been taking my girls to that clinic I described, with three practicing pediatricians that accept Tricare. Unsurprisingly, though, I'm increasingly dissatisfied with them.

This blog is long.

My first experience with them was great. I took one of my six-year-olds in and, after a talk with a pediatrician, got a referral to a specialist, which was exactly what I knew she needed. There was no long wait to get an appointment or to be seen, and the doctor asked relevant questions without making me feel like and idiot. She believed me, understood my concerns, and passed me on to someone better qualified to help me.

However, my next dealing with them, involved having the girls' medical records forwarded from Hawaii. It was an inexplicable nightmare.

Time zones are vastly different and the clinic in Hawaii is on a military base. It is operated by and serves exclusively military personnel and their families. Aside from those inherent obstacles, the clinic here in Colorado made a huge mess of things.

I filled out the authorizations for transfer of records at the Colorado clinic and had them faxed to Hawaii. For the next two months, I was pulling my hair out.

I had to fax the authorization twice. I don't know what happened to the first set, but Hawaii informed me that I needed to send a new set.

The first person I talked to at the Hawaii location said it would take a week or more for the authorization to be processed and the records to be returned. Two weeks later, nothing had happened, so I called them back. This time, I spoke to a different person who said that first guy had no idea what he was talking about, "it takes less than a day." So I faxed the second authorization to this new person.

For a while, it went like this:

1. Call Hawaii and ask them to fax the records.
2. Wait
3. Get a call back from Hawaii informing me that the fax went through and a confirmation was received.
4. Wait
5. Call Colorado and find out they never got the records and don't know why.
6. Repeat

Eventually, after double and triple checking for correct phone numbers, Hawaii decided to just FedEx the hard copies because no one could figure out what the problem was. But once Colorado received the package, they still couldn't do anything with it because two of my girls were still not in their system. All three had primary care physicians at this clinic, but only one of them had been seen at this point, so the other two were never added to their files.

I lost my temper. I think that's why they finally added my other two daughters, despite them not having had appointments yet. I just needed printed copies of their immunization records to submit to the district for homeschool purposes. How difficult can that be?

Additionally, when I called the Colorado clinic, I couldn't speak to the receptionist at the location the girls go to, I could only call a general number and select options from a menu, ending up talking to the chain's records department. For some reason, almost every time I called I wound up talking to a specific woman I could hardly understand. To make matters worse, she could hardly understand me. Instead of listening carefully, she interrupted me when I was trying to spell my kids' names for her. Of course, she misspelled them, and couldn't find them in the system even after they had been added.

When they did finally get all of that worked out and printed the immunization sheets for me, they informed me that the girls were all behind on their shots. I knew this. I made an appointment to get them caught up.

I thought we were done with the paperwork fumbling.

After the appointment, they gave me printed immunization charts for M and S which they had updated with pen. That's fine for my use, but I needed one for each of the three girls, and something more official for sending to the district. I called Friday to make the request. They said the charts would be available Monday and I'd receive a call when they were ready.

Monday, I received the call but missed it. The woman left a message that said, "I was just calling to let you know that the shot records you requested for your girls are ready for pick up here at the (location) office. If you have any questions please give us a call. It'll be ready for you at the front desk." So I had Papa drop by on his way home from work.

They told him they didn't have anything to give him and that the call was probably to inform us that they had received the girls' records from Hawaii, which, by my recollection, happened over a month ago. Besides, the woman said the records I requested were, "ready for pick up... at the front desk."

When Papa got home, I raged for a few minutes in my bathroom to avoid ruining my now four-year-old's birthday. Then, I called them back at exactly 5:00. Unfortunately, that's exactly when they closed. I was sent to an answering service that only takes messages about sick kids. I vented at that poor gentleman and then apologized because, "I know it's not your fault. You had nothing to do with it. I'm just very upset because I keep dealing with one problem after another from these people." He said he understood but, unfortunately, the only thing I could do was call back during business hours.

I didn't have to. They called me at 8:58 the next day and left another message: "This is Advanced Pediatrics calling to let you know that (C), (S), and (M)'s shot records are ready for pick up here at the (location) office."

Papa is headed there after work again today. I want to smack someone.

M's Birthday Cake

Some things went wrong with M's birthday cake. The royal icing rainbow crumbled when I tried to remove it from the wax paper on which it was drawn. The icing I originally used to write on the top of the cake melted into the frosting. The piping frosting I made for the clouds and edging was chunky and I had to use store-bought stuff instead. But it tasted amazing, and the cake and base frosting were perfect.

For her cake, I knew I wanted a batter that would produce a very white cake. My plan was to create a six-layer rainbow cake, so I needed a white base to fill with food coloring.

To make this delicious white cake, you will need:
2 1/4 cups cake flour
1 cup milk at room temperature
6 large egg whites at room temperature
2 teaspoons almond extract
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 3/4 cups granulated sugar
4 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter softened but still cool

I doubled the recipe to make six, thin layers.

Directions:
Make sure milk and eggs are room temperature. If you have a lot of time, just sit them out over night. I put my eggs (still whole and in their shells) straight into a bowl of warm (not hot) water and poured my milk into a measuring cup with a handle, hooked the handle over the edge of the bowl, and partially submerged the measuring cup. I gave it about an hour and all were room temperature.
Preheat your oven to 350. I didn't do this until near the end of making the batter. I'm a rebel when it comes to preheating.
Prepare pans you intend to use. I used cooking spray on the two round pans I have. Needing to make six layers, I cleaned, sprayed and reused my two pans three times.
Mix wet ingredients. In a medium bowl, mix milk, egg whites, and extracts by hand until blended.
Mix dry ingredients. In a separate bowl (the bowl of your stand mixer if you have one), combine cake flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt with an electric mixer on medium speed.
Add butter. Cut butter into cubes and add to dry ingredient mixture. Beat on low for 1-2 minutes.
Combine wet and dry ingredients. Add all but 1/2 cup of wet ingredients to dry ingredients. Beat on medium speed for 1 1/2 minutes, then add remaining wet ingredients and beat for 1 additional minute.
Pour batter evenly in pan(s).
Bake for 27-30 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean.

For my cake, I separated my batter (a double batch) into six different bowls and added a different color of food coloring to each bowl. Also, keep in mind that I had to bake my six layers in three separate sessions. My last two colors of batter sat on my counter for almost an hour before being baked and turned out just fine. If you only have one cake pan and want to make layers, you can just bake two or three layers separately.

The base frosting I made was much easier, but still tasty.

To make this super easy frosting, you need:
Vanilla Instant Jello pudding mix (I used two large boxes)
Milk
Whipped Cream

Directions:
Empty Vanilla pudding mix into a bowl. Add half the amount of milk that the box recipe calls for.
Whisk until it begins to thicken.
Add whipped cream until frosting reaches desired consistency

This frosting is light and delicious. It holds well as a spreadable frosting but lacks structural quality (after all, it's made of jello pudding) and probably won't hold a piped form very well. It also cracked in my refrigerator after about a day, but that could be touched up easily.

White cake recipe adapted from www.epicurious.com 

Chickens in Aurora

I borrowed this image from this petition for Chickens in Aurora

This entry is focused on my experience. I'll write a separate entry detailing my list of pros and cons with regards to backyard chickens.

We moved into this house about nine months ago. It was a huge upgrade from our apartment in a lot of ways. Now, we have our own back yard and driveway. We no longer live on the third floor (with no elevator), which was a huge set-back for teaching the kids to ride bikes. Our house is close to, but not directly adjacent to, a main road. In fact, it's far enough away that I can barely hear the traffic with the doors open and the girls can safely ride their bikes to the park with us. Perhaps most importantly, the apartment had two bedrooms. This house has three bedrooms, plus one extra which has been repurposed as a playroom. Most of them are bigger than the apartment's master bedroom. This house is more than twice the size of our apartment.

Unfortunately, as with most major life changes, there were a couple of drawbacks as well. Cell phone signal is spotty, and we had to switch providers just to get usable service. Also, our living room is heated with a gas fireplace, and it gets expensive in the winter.

There's one other important area in which our home falls short. At the risk of sounding exactly like what you imagine when you hear "homeschool”... we want chickens. The city of Denver (our geographical neighbor) has approved urban homesteading measures including limited hen ownership in the city. Aurora has not.

There has been talk of the possibility at City Council meetings. We are not the only enthusiastic, budding, urban farmers in Aurora. Local people have spoken their points about the sustainability movement. Apparently, our current Mayor is in favor of the change, and has suggested implementing it through a slower process, by which certain wards would set an example for the rest by allowing urban farming first. This way, more resistant wards could watch and learn from others' success or failure.

I've been rallying for backyard hens, but only online. I've passed around a virtual petition. I've debated the benefits and possible risks in web-based city forums with less enthusiastic residents. And my efforts have not gone unnoticed.

I was recently sent an invite to, and schedule of, all of the city council meetings, from the office of our ward representative. I'm definitely considering attending, but I've never been to one of these. I actually don't know what is expected of me, or what I should expect to experience. Is it appropriate to bring my six-year-olds? After all, one of them is deeply interested in the chicken movement, and I think a city counsel meeting would be a fantastic educational experience. What would I need to do if I wanted to speak at the meeting? What would I need to know in order to prepare a speech?

One way to get the answers is to attend a meeting I suppose.

If this is an initiative you care about, check out Chicks In Aurora on Facebook and Blogger.

Vacations with Kids

I don't hate traveling with my kids. I will admit, though, that I certainly used to. Actually, I haven't taken them anywhere on a plane since we flew back from Hawaii a few years ago. Since I have four kids, it's actually cheaper (not to mention easier) to road trip anywhere within the country. But I did fly to Hawaii with two not-quite-two-year-old girls and back with two four-year-olds and a one-year-old.

If you're about to fly to Hawaii with young children, I do not envy you.

In my experience, airline staff are (at least for the most part) understanding and considerate. Having to fly, alone, with my toddler twins, I met only one employee I could have punched in the face. He was a twenty-something, red-headed man at the terminal who said something nasty about why I didn't have help, but only to one of his coworkers... as I was walking away. I didn't have help because my fiancé was a Navy man. We were flying to my dad's house from separate states. "Learn some respect and grow a pair!" is what I should have said.

Rant aside, I have had great experiences with airline personnel. They've always helped me get a better seat when needed, and other passengers have always been very understanding. I need to sit with my kids, preferably near a bathroom, and you do not want to be between us and the aisle.

These are my five most important lessons from flying with children:

1. Pack your own carry-on items as lightly as possible. Make room for all of the stuff your kids might want. They don't understand the frustrating circumstance of being locked in a tube in the sky, unable to access their favorite things on a whim.
2. Have a small diaper bag for the essentials. Pack it with only things you need for a change. Remember, airplane bathrooms are tiny. You definitely don't want to take your hulking diaper bag in there, filled with bottles, bibs, and a huge container of powder. (Side note: buy the travel size powder and cream.)
3. Don't forget to bring changes of clothes. If baby spits up a lot, or soaks diapers to the point of leaking, you might want a change of clothes for yourself, too.
4. Smile. This advice was given to me before my first plane trip with the girls. It truly must be the most under-rated trick in the motherhood book. Smiling makes you more approachable. It may seem like people would want to help you more if you seemed frazzled and helpless, but it honestly doesn't work like that. Smile, say "thank you" in the most cheerful and appreciative tone you can muster, and don't let them see you sweat.
5. Don't be afraid to ask for help. Looking helpless and asking for help are not the same thing. A line from my history: "Is there any way I could get one of those airport trolley things to help me get these car seats to my next terminal?" For some reason, when people see you doing a heroic job of keeping your herd together without a tear, they want to help you.

When it comes to road-tripping, know this: It's going to take longer than you expected.

I have a huge vehicle. We have, in the past, gotten two adults, three kids in carseats, two large dogs, and a week's worth of supplies into my car; now, with a fourth carseat in the car, we can never take the dogs.

We've done road trips lasting anywhere from a few hours to a couple of days with these kids. I've braved long road trips with them for their entire lives, starting with two infants. Let me share my knowledge of the road:

1. Overestimate... everything. We always plan time for meals, but we forget how long it takes to get kids to eat enough food to tide them over until the next meal. Count the number of diapers you use in a day: bring at least one and a half times that number for each road trip day. Another huge mistake we've made is not bringing enough music. You won't alway have radio, and you're going to get tired of the same six CDs. Man, I wish I had an aux port.
2. Learn to love cosmetic wipes. I wouldn't recommend cleaning your face (or anyone else's) with a standard baby wipe, but a cosmetic wipe sure hits the spot when you can't take a real shower. Besides, for some reason my face feels greasier when I've spent a day in the car.
3. Remember what not to pack. Bring your kid's favorite stuffed animal or blanket, but, for the love of sanity, don't pack it! Put it in the floor, in front of them, or on the seat beside them. You do not want to pull over to find it when they want it five minutes after you pull out of the driveway. Bring snacks, water, and appropriate games and toys. Put them in a separate bag where you can access them on demand. If your car has those nice pockets in the back of the driver and passenger seats and your kid can reach that far, use them.
4. If you can help it, try not to stay on the road over night. You're not the only one who would benefit from some real rest in a hotel, or at a friend's house along the way. It's hard for kids to sleep in the car. It's hard for me to sleep in the car. And if everyone is grumpy at 6AM on day two, we're in for trouble.
5. Even if you can't stay at a hotel, they will, in fact, sleep. Still, don't bother with the usual schedule. They won't sleep for the normal eight or more hours at a time, but it will still be nice when they do stop babbling back there. Bring a book, a crocheting project, your laptop, or anything else you can spend that time doing (unless you're driving).
6. Again, make a diaper bag of only the essentials. You don't know what those gas station restrooms will have in store for you. Bring sanitizer and, if you have someone in diapers, a portable changing pad.
7. And, if you do have a diapered bottom, stop frequently. This is incredibly important because sitting in those diapers for long periods of time can cause unbelievable diaper rash, even if they're barely wet. I made this mistake early in my motherhood. So, change the butt-cover early and often. Keep powder and cream on hand. You may even want to do a preemptive powder coat with every diaper to keep a dry bottom.

Things I Didn't Know About Homeschooling

It's not always easy for us to talk about it.

You would think that we would be great public speakers, with all of the explaining we have to do. We should just be used to it by now, right? People ask our kids, "what grade are you in?" and our kids respond, "what?" Now we feel like we need to say something. I say, "they're homeschooled" and I spiral into explaining the whole situation, because people are curious. There are lots of questions. 

These are not bad questions. There are no bad questions when it comes to topics you're not familiar with (there's the homeschooler coming out). The problem is simply that I don't know how to answer you. I get nervous and feel like I'm making stuff up. Of course, I'm not making it up. I just don't have a prepared speech and new people have always made me a little nervous until I get to know them. I'm really not very good at this sort of thing. I'm afraid I'm going to say something stupid on accident and this stranger is going to start worrying about the future of my children, being educated by this idiot.

Not to mention, every homeschooling parent is like a spokesperson for homeschooling. I don't want to make a bad impression. I want to improve the public image of homeschooling. But I didn't sign up to be a billboard advertisement for my life choices. It's a tough spot.

It's not always "school at home".

This has got to be the biggest misunderstanding I've encountered. No one I know has had a single negative thing to say about my choice to homeschool (if you don't count my ex-husband... I don't. Besides, he has changed his mind now that he's seen what we've accomplished.) So, that aside, the most awkward situation I run into is people asking things like, "when are your vacations?" or "do you do lessons through the summer?" or "where do you get your materials?"

Six-year-old helping install Linux

We're not just like a standard public school, but at home. And not all homeschools are the same. What works for some definitely does not work for all. And since these are exactly the questions I always feel blind-sided by and nervous about, let me just answer them while I have the time to think about my response.

First - Our vacations are... whenever. Our field trips are, too. Sometimes we might take a day off entirely because the baby is sick, or there's something really neat going on out of town. I have actually worked a lesson about dinosaurs in because I wanted to go to the museum. We scheduled next year really loosely and with built in wiggle room, so we can take a few days off whenever we choose. And when we are doing lessons, it only needs to be a few hours of the day, and we can do it anywhere. So you don't need to schedule anything around us. 

Summer is just another part of the year. We don't have to submit a schedule to the district for anything more than 172 days, averaging 4 instructional hours per day. So I don't. The rest of the year, we are unstructured learners. The kids might take a community center class. I'm always here to feed their curiosity and provide them with information, and they have access to the internet. We still do crafts together, go to the zoo, read, write, draw, and do other random things they're interested in. But we have no standards to meet for the summer.

I get our materials at the same places you shop when your kids go back to school. So far, I get most of our stuff at target. Their worksheets and projects are things I make up or find online. I have no desire to spend ridiculous amounts of money teaching my kids things I can teach them for little if any money.

Our structure is deliberately not strict, and we don't have special materials you can only find at a homeschool store.

It's not always about religion.

When we were putting together our plan for this year, I found myself wondering if religious homeschooling families include their theological teaching intentions in the plan they submit to the district. We're not religious. We didn't choose to opt out of public schooling because of qualms with lack of prayer or creationist teachings. We're doing this because we believe we can do a better job, because we know our kids, personally, as individuals. And, we may have four kids, but we don't have fourteen, or twenty. 

We don't think we're better than you. 

That last point probably made it sound like we do. I don't see anything wrong with sending your kids to public school. I think the problems come when you either can't, or don't try to, choose a good school for your kids, and don't contribute to their education. Pick a private school, public school, weird independent school, homeschool, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you're invested in their education. Even if you have no choice but to send your children to the school nearest your home, and it's awful, I believe you are an excellent parent if you are attempting to fill the holes in their education when they're home with you. 

Homeschool kids are not different. 

I used to think they were all smarter than me. They must have been smarter than me to start with, so their parents decided public school wasn't good enough, or if not... they were certainly smarter than me, now. Obviously, they must have learned much faster than me, since they were able to learn at their own pace. 

Do homeschooled kids start out ahead of others? Sometimes. Not usually. Homeschooled kids come from every different category. Some parents homeschool because their kid has special needs, or social or emotional trouble. In 2003, a survey was conducted that found eighty-three percent of homeschooled students were being homeschooled, at least in part, because their parents were concerned about the negative environment in other schools. (cite)

I homeschool my kids because I feel we can do a better job. In public schools, twins are often pressured to perform equally well, get confused for each other, and get treated as the same person. My twins are just not the same. And I do still strongly believe that working at their own pace has got to be good.

Potty problems

I debated, internally, whether I should write publicly about this. After all, this is the sort of topic that might embarrass a kid. And, as her mom, it has embarrassed me over the years. One of my six-year-olds was still wetting herself multiple times a day, until I sought help.

That shouldn't be embarrassing. My other six-year-old is potty trained, having very rare wet incidents, and so is my three-year-old. I have not failed. If you're reading this and your older kid is regularly changing clothes, you are not a failure.

Potty training is complicated.

After years of struggle and nothing to show for it, not a single week of dry days, I worried. Two of her siblings were trained, and she had reached the age of concern. I'm homeschooling her, but can you imagine what public school would do to her if she was still dealing with this at her age? First, the school itself probably wouldn't accept her. But even if they did, would the other kids? Would she be bullied?

And, although I homeschool, I still expect my kids to be involved in activities with peers, outside of the house. She is taking guitar lessons and a gymnastics class this season. I don't want her to be "the kid who smells". As much as I hate to admit it, there was a, "kid who smells" in my elementary school, and I saw her bullied on a regular basis. She was one of my friends... but I did find it uncomfortable to be too near her.

I took the advice of other parents and put the potty power in her hands. We grown-ups made suggestions about how we thought she should go about it, but left it up to her to decide what was best for her. We tried a timer to remind her to go, and giving the clean up responsibilities to her. But when she was wet ten minutes after her scheduled potty break, almost every time, we assumed it wasn't working and started worrying.

By that point, I had been trying to potty train her for well over four years. When she was about a year and a half old, I got her a potty and put it across from the toilet so she could try it if she was curious. When she was two, I started incentives and regular potty breaks, then a potty chart so daddy could see her achievements when he got home.

I was very positive about the whole situation, and so was one of my six-year-olds, but not the other. She was terrified of the potty.

The first time she did poop in the potty, I discovered that she was definitely constipated. No wonder she didn't want to use the potty. It was hurting her to try. Her sister was getting rewards for pooping, so she was pressured to poop... And it hurt.

At the clinic, her doctor prescribed Miralax. You can get it over the counter. WebMD says Miralax, "is used to treat occasional constipation. It works by holding water in the stool to soften the stool and increases the number of bowel movements. It is known as an osmotic-type laxative." It is intended for adults, but can be taken by children. Ask your doctor first, because giving it to children is "off-label" use, and there is no dosing for children on the label.

That did clear out the problem poop, but didn't convince her that the potty wasn't scary.

I thought it would just take time. It never got better.

After the six-year mark, I finally threw my hands up and decided I had to get help. I was worried something might be physically wrong with her, and I needed to know. We had her on a high fiber diet with fiber supplements, to combat constipation, and kept Miralax around incase of emergency.

I read a book called It's No Accident by Steve J. Hodges, MD, a board-certified pediatric urologist. He also points the finger at poop problems. Even if your child never has a poop accident, there's a good chance that backed-up poop could be causing pee accidents. But my daughter didn't seem to be backed-up. She was pooping every day, and most of them were soft. We tried the Miralax cleanse he suggested, anyway. What could it hurt?

When that didn't improve the situation, I turned to her pediatrician, who referred us to a urology specialist at the Children's Hospital.

There were some preliminary tests my daughter was subjected to, so the urologist could see what she was working with. She had an ultrasound. That came back normal. She had an x-ray. That came back normal. Then, we finally found ourselves in the urologist's office, receiving the good news that my daughter was totally normal, as far as anyone could see.

But, what did that leave us with?

I talked to the urologist about my daughter's potty history. I said what I'm saying, now. She was constipated and scared, early on. Then, something worse happened.

I found myself in an unhealthy relationship with her father, unable to stand up for myself or my convictions, I let him treat her pretty poorly. He over-reacted to her short-comings and terrified her with screaming fits. At one point, when she was about three-years-old, he moved our dining room table into our bedroom to make space for a tiny, plastic-gate play yard, barely big enough for our daughter's mattress, and a potty. He said he was going to leave her there until she stopped having accidents. Her sisters got to roam free and play in the living room, where she could see, but not participate.

That was the last straw. I didn't let that continue long. I finally built up the courage to tell him, "I don't think this is working. I don't think it's going to work" and to take the play yard down. What I was really thinking was much worse. I was crying when he was away, about how horrible this situation had become.

So, the urologist's assistant took us to a special bathroom with a child-sized toilet that had a machine built into it to measure how much my daughter peed and at what rate. Directly after my daughter used that toilet, the assistant used a tool that seemed similar to an ultrasound wand and measured how much urine was left in her bladder. Reviewing the results with the urologist reveled that my daughter was only half-emptying her bladder at any given bathroom break.

Put simply, this is what was happening:

When you void, your bladder contracts to push its contents out. When you're not trying to pee, your urethra has muscles that tighten around it to hold urine in, even when you don't feel like you have to go. Your urethra is basically holding a cap on your bladder while it fills up, slowly, over the course of hours.

When you sit down on the toilet (if you're a man, replace with your own bathroom scenario), the muscles closing your urethra need to relax while your bladder is emptying.

Potty terror, and then accident terror, had trained my daughter's muscles to fight each other. On the toilet, her bladder would be trying to empty, but the muscles around her urethra would never relax enough. Her bladder was saying, "let's go" and her urethra was saying, "no." So, she was always carrying at least some urine.

What's the solution? Retraining her body. It's actually not that difficult, but the specialist said it will take time (at least 3 months).

We have a schedule. She goes potty every two hours, throughout the day. She needs to go regularly and often to keep her bladder from ever being over-full. That way, the muscles around her urethra can start to relax, without so much pressure pushing down on them.

Every time she goes, she tries twice. She completes one whole bathroom trip, all the way up to putting her pants back on, then she goes back and tries again. This is called double voiding, and it helps by repeatedly triggering the response her body should automatically have when she prepares to void... relaxation. Of course, it also helps give her an opportunity to get more than half of the urine out.

I've also created a chart for her on which I can record her bathroom activity and accidents. It is important for me to keep track of her stools because constipation has been an issue in the past, and can be again. The charts have been a great reminder of her progress, as well.

We check back in with the specialist, for another round with the special toilet, after three months of this routine. I'm optimistic. We're maybe six weeks in and she's only having a few wet accidents per week, and we've basically eliminated bed-wetting.

An Hour In The Life

I wanted to share with you a typical experience around my house. I think you can get to know a lot about me based on the way I react to normal situations in my life. I chose an hour instead of today because the whole day would take a lot of writing.

"Lunch time." I said, as I placed the plates on the table. My seven-month-old son was laying on the foam floor tiles I have replaced our living room with. In the same, huge, open space, my three daughters came racing to the dining table. I doled out vitamins shaped like gummy bears before eating my own lunch.

When I was done, of course, my daughters were still working on their food. My youngest promised that she was not going to eat hers at all. I explained, to her disappointment, that she could stay at the dining table as long as she wanted. Her options were to finish her lunch, or remain at the dining table until naptime.

"That's what I want!" She exclaimed, defiantly.

"That's fine." I asserted. Then I reminded her, "I thought you wanted to ride your bike, and you won't get to if you sit here until nap, not eating."

She began to eat, clearly begrudgingly.

Realizing I hadn't taken a shower or bath yet today, I decided, "I'm going to take a bath." They know that the bathroom is just down the hallway and, being a mom, I always leave the door open. The baby was safe in his furniture-free, foam-tiled space. However, should he start crying, I would throw on a towel and come to his rescue. If the girls needed me for anything they could just ask. I could hear them clearly from down the hall.

I headed to the bathroom where I discovered that the bathtub definitely needed a cleaning since the last time it was used by the kids. So, back to the kitchen to whip up a batch of baking soda tub scrub. While I was scrubbing the tub, I was also explaining to my six-year-olds, who were now done with lunch, that I can't take a bath in my bathroom because I only have a shower. Only one of our bathrooms has a bathtub, and it happens to be the one the kids use.

By the time I finished scrubbing the tub, the baby was getting pretty fussy. I guessed it must've been time to feed him. So, instead of filling the bathtub, now that it was clean, I returned to the common area of the house to change a diaper, feed a baby, and return him to his crib for a nap.

Most of a container of baby food peas and four ounces of formula later, my three-year-old still hadn't finished her lunch and I still hadn't taken a bath. And I'm sure you know, or can guess, how long it takes to feed a seven-month-old baby most of a container of baby food peas.

Once the baby was down for his nap I returned to the tub and began to draw a bath. But wehile the water was running, I left the bathroom to clean up the mess from feeding the baby.

When I finally did step into the bath, I was bombarded by six-year-olds wanting to talk and keep me company and/or use the toilet. We talked about things like the year being 12 months long, and how far away the next Father's Day and Mother's Day are. I described to them how we plan to remodel their bathroom to make it more usable since three kids are currently using it and eventually it will be four.

I washed myself, scrubbed my nails, pumiced my feet, and got out. I can't remember the last time I spent an entire day without having a single plan get interrupted. I can't remember the last time I found a bath to be truly relaxing.

I am definitely a different person now from who I used to be, and that's just fine.