Groundhog Day starring Bill Murray

I'm sitting here on the couch while the babies are grunting in my damp and soiled t-shirt wondering what is the purpose of using spit-up cloths if I always smell like sour milk and if my shirt is always slightly wet?  I use 3 spit-up cloths per feeding, and my t-shirt always seems to take the brunt of it.

My mind is going through the scenes of Groundhog Day with Bill Murray and every day at home seems like it could very well be a sequel to Groundhog Day, starring well...me.  However, the difference between the two "movies" is that Bill Murray got a full nights rest and his repeating days at least ended when he laid his head on the pillow and woke up the next morning by the sound of his alarm clock, not by the sound of a unique trio of screaming babies calling out for their next meal.

Despite my disgusting t-shirt and seemingly repeated days, life is SO good!  I just have it all.  The other day, I was home alone with all of our children.  It was lunch time and I carefully prepared the older kids lunch ahead of time because I knew the triplets would want lunch around the same time.  Sure enough, I was right and my preparations paid off.  Except, I didn't anticipate me being in one room feeding the triplets and the older kids being in the other room, "eating their lunch" and me not having a watchful eye on them.  The triplets were doing fine, sucking down their ounces of milk, however, the older kids seemed to have a difficult time staying focused on lunch without my gentle reminders to each their sandwich or apples or whatever.  Time passed with them finally completing their lunch in no shorter than 1 hour.  I told Lincoln that it was time to wash his hands and face, collect toys for quiet time, and head to bed for his moment of alone time.  Before I could check on him to make sure he was staying on task, I needed to finish feeding the triplets, change them, burp them, wrap them, and place them back to bed.  I lost track of time, trying to complete the tasks at hand for the triplets to be safely secured, back to bed.  I sat down, wondering what I was going to have for lunch and my mind trailed off to "lunch."  It was then that I realized that I hadn't checked on Lincoln.  In fact, I didn't hear him at all.  I could not recall that I had heard him turn the bathroom sink on to wash his hands and face, or recall the sound of him grabbing his recent favorite toy, a cordless play drill, and making sure it would still make that awful sound of "drilling."  I went searching for him, first to the kitchen, then to the bathroom, then to Katelyn's room, only to find him in his room, quietly laying down on his bed, "reading" a book.  He was so obedient!  I couldn't believe it!

After I gave him a big kiss and told him he was "a good boy," I read his facial expression of, "dude, what's wrong with you?!?"  "You told me to go to quiet time, and here I am," he continued, "what's your problem?"