Because my day was just that awesome.

This morning a nice man from the invisible fence company came to my house for a free consultation regarding the installation of a "run away again and I'll shock you till you cry" collar/fence system for Carmen. It's perfectly humane, I promise. Mr. dimply, smiley, perfectly professional invisible fence man told me so. We walked through the yard while he explained, pointed and elaborated the many wonderful services that his company provides. I was wowed, and near totally convinced it was the best option till he asked me for my signature right above the "Total Cost" estimate.

I'm sorry. You want HOW much money to run a wire around my yard? How bout I just go buy a brand new BMW to park on top of her leash? I'm thinking that may actually be more cost effective. You're very charming, Mr. Invisible, but we'll be running the wire ourselves, thank you very much.

After the fence guy left and I forced my jaw closed from the horror of it all, I took Sam and Lucy to gymnastics. They go to class for fifty minutes, which is almost enough time to accomplish something else without hurrying, but not quite. I try every week though, thinking that maybe today will be the day I don't get stuck behind Grandpa Moses in the check out line at the grocery store. And today, I needed bread. And cheese. And some sort of protein source for dinner that isn't already breaded and shaped like a dinosaur. So off we went.

I have the best of intentions when it comes to grocery shopping. I clip coupons. I have green bags. I make lists. And then I always, always, always show up to the store with the coupons still sitting on the counter at home, the list in my OTHER purse, and the green bags tucked nicely underneath the stroller and pack n' play in the back of my van at the very back of the parking lot, far, far away from the store.

What? You think I ought to go back to the van and get the bags? You must not shop with children. It's not like the green bags are completely useless. They provide a nice little cushion for my plastic grocery bags when I load them all in the back of the van.

Where was I? Oh yes. The invisible fence man wants to rob my kid's college fund, the grocery store trip was a total bust, and my day's not even half over! With Sam and Lucy gymnified and back in the van, we head over to the elementary school to pick up Jordan, and one extra kid whose Mom was on her way home from a doctor's appt. in the far off land of Georgia. (Yes. My town is small enough that sometimes doctors visits require a state border crossing.) So... five kids later, I make it home in one piece, and think, for about three minutes that all is well. Then I go inside.

Yesterday was my birthday. I did NO housework. Not a dish. Not a single shred of laundry. Not one single bit of cleaning, straightening, dusting. NONE. Seriously. My house looked like someone let a pack of wild monkeys loose with a box of goldfish crackers, an exploding bag of trash, a laundry bomb and a sharpie. I looked at the clock and figured I had at least an hour to clean before I had to get Sam and Lucy ready for T-ball practice. But Jordan really wanted to play Battleship and I NEVER play with him and everyone needed a snack, and was that the sound of Henry pouring an entire cup of water on the floor in front of the piano? Can anyone tell me why there was a cup of water on the piano in the first place?

It wouldn't have mattered if anyone had an answer. I was too busy running across the street to catch the escape artist puppy who managed to sneak out of the house and was out getting into who knows what kind of trouble. I've seen the kind of little boy dogs she hangs around with. Guess someone forgot to tell them she lost all her girly parts last week. Take that little chihuahua!!

So I'm roaming around the woods trying to coax my sweet little puppy home so I can throttle her precious little neck for maybe five or ten minutes. (Curse you invisible fence man... you did this, didn't you? It was probably you hiding in the woods, urging my little Carmen to run away...) I wasn't gone long, but apparently it was long enough for two extra children to show up at my house. Neighbor children. Hungry neighbor children. We're up to seven kids now... seven kids standing in my kitchen opening cabinets, gnawing on the countertops, and pouring glasses of apple juice filled to the brim. Sure kids! Eat my food. Trust me, I LOVE it when a monster big $8 box of goldfish is gone in less than 36 hours. How about I just open my wallet and you can eat the money straight out?!

After sending the neighbor kids home, searching for socks and cleats and gloves and adjusting ponytails and underwear, we made it out the door. I delivered the one remaining extra child to her parental vehicle waiting patiently at our designated meeting spot, then made it to Tball practice fifteen minutes late.

We had ham sandwiches for dinner. (Ham = protein). My dishes still aren't clean. My laundry still isn't folded. And I don't want to walk on my own floors barefoot.

But... my kids are happy and the sky is blue and I got to watch American Idol.

And I still love my job and will absolutely do it all again tomorrow.