Desperation

Not only has my stomach popped - my head feels like it's about to, also. We're crazy busy on the work front ...we're crazy busy on the homefront.

All the while, the kids have been the stereotypical two-year olds ... absolutely adorable when they are sleeping, absolutely terrorizing when they are awake.

There is NO exception to that rule.

Not even when they are eating. Because it appears that there is nothing more fun than flinging macaroni and cheese across the table, or spitting chewed up strawberries all over the beautiful grout that we just had professionally cleaned.

It's not easy to sweep up macaroni and cheese or remove strawberry juice from light-colored grout. It's even more difficult to do this while biting your tongue so you don't start cursing in front of two-year old triplets that try to repeat everything you say.

"Oogle Floogle KABLOOGLE!!!!" has become my new catch phrase which I shriek at least 10,000 times a day. Maybe more.

When Charlie is not up and out of the house before the crack of dawn for an important meeting, I've been up and out of the house before the crack of dawn for an important meeting. Which means for the past week, the person remaining at home has not had the luxury of an extra set of hands to help out with breakfast.

This makes all the difference in the world.

You see, as soon as the kids wake up ... and climb out of their cribs, remove their own pajamas and diapers ... open the refrigerator and start taking out all of the salad dressing that was neatly organized in the door - we need to be ready for them. We need to be showered, dressed, and fully energized.

But because the kids are getting extremely stealth, and are escaping from their cribs before our eyes are even open, this has become a formidable task.

Formidable like ... pushing a car that has run out of gas up a hill, with one arm tied behind your back, in your pajamas, while a ferocious dog is trying to bite off your family jewels knee caps. And you have to pee.

Earlier this week, Charlie got up to go swimming before I left for work. Once I heard him leave, I decided that I should probably hoist myself out of bed and take a quick shower before the kids woke up.

It was only after I was in the shower, with shampoo in my hair and one leg shaved, that I became aware I wasn't the only one awake in the house. While I quickly tried to wipe the bubbles from my eyes, and clear the shower door, I helplessly watched a toddler wander in to the water closet holding something shiny.

Seconds later, I heard the toilet flush.

Maybe it was the early morning hour or maybe it was my almost 7-month pregnant body that was completely covered in soap, but I wasn't moving too fast. Fortunately, I was able to move just fast enough to grab my keys before they disappeared down the commode and in to the sewer system.

I never did finish my shower.

Because once I retrieved my keys, I heard what suspiciously sounded like a 3-pound Costco bag of Basmati Rice being spilled all over our kitchen floor. It seems that while I was in the bathroom with one toddler, there were two more "busily at work" in another part of the house.

Yesterday, while I was at work, I received a call from Charlie.

He didn't sound too good.

Apparently, he ran out of coffee. He thought that he remembered having an extra bag of coffee in the pantry, but, alas - it was decaf that expired in September of 2005.

I don't drink coffee, so could not relate to his predicament.

When he called me back three hours later, I was informed that he couldn't make a run to the store because the kids were sleeping. When he told me that he had a raging headache and shaky limbs, I promised that I'd swing by the store on my way home and replenish his stash.

Since he hadn't had any coffee within the past 24-hours, he asked that I pick him up several bags of French Roast whole bean ... and, also requested that I swing by Starbuck's and pick him up a Grande, because this was an emergency. He was having major withdrawls and didn't possess the strength to grind beans and then brew a pot when I finally arrived home.

He needed coffee STAT.

When I arrived home at 6 PM, toting a shopping sack full of Starbucks, Charlie had bags beneath his eyes and was still wearing his pajama bottoms. Incredibly, after he'd had a mere sip of java - the color started to return to his cheeks and he came alive. I started to tease him that he needed to do a better job of organizing his day - when he pointed out that after two days, I still hadn't managed to shave my other leg.

Considering the current dimensions of my belly, there's an oogle floogle kabloogle chance I may not get around to completing that chore until August. But belly size aside - I'm so zonked that I'm either in bed - or asleep on the couch - every night by 8:30 PM.

After watching Charlie's miraculous recovery yesterday, I'm beginning to think that coffee might be the magic potion I've been looking for. All I need is a caffeine drip to my arm, a 2-foot handle affixed to my razor and cages to contain my children. And maybe, I could have a sane life, again.

Or at a minimum, I'll have the opportunity and energy to shave my legs.