I rolled my very pregnant self out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom.
I cracked 10 eggs into a bowl with some milk, shredded cheese, and salt and pepper and got them ready for scrambling.
I turned on my trusty Keurig.
Breakfast is served. The kids don't want toast with their eggs.
I forget about my coffee and grab it.
I sit down with my toast. The kids want toast.
I try to exercise with my DVD. Both of the boys tried riding on my legs. I lasted 10 minutes.
I took a shower to cool off from my "workout" just to hear Zoe yelling that the boys are eating chocolate.
I finish up my shower and run to grab my husband's half-eaten box of chocolates from the boys and put them on the table.
I clean the boys up and change their clothes.
I get dressed.
I come out to find the boys on the table eating more chocolate.
I discipline the kids and clean them up again.
I start to deep clean my room.
I throw all the dirty clothes into a pile, throw trash away, etc.
The kids decide to "help."
Zoe has to go to the bathroom so I tell her to go before she wets her pants.
She wet her pants.
I discipline my daughter and clean up the mess.
I then realize the rest of my house is a mess because I'm trying to clean my room.
It's a little early, but I'm desperate. I make lunch.
The kids eat while running around the table and hiding from each other.
As soon as the kids finish they are sent to bed for an afternoon nap.
I go to get a drink and relax for a little bit.
No water. No sweet tea. No coke.
I sit down anyways.
The kids wake up.
I hear the boys jumping on the bed and screaming.
I feel my chest tighten as I realize I have to go to the grocery store with these hooligans.