Is it Friday yet?

No, really.

Is it Friday yet?

I ask because I have been running non-stop with the daily "To Dos" all week and still feel like nothing is done. And I am exhausted.

Dogs out at 5 a.m. Yep. Then back in at 5:03 when they bark and anger the neighbors (aka "disturb the repose of the neighborhood..." because "other people have dogs, but I don't hear them like yours" as the anonymous complaint letter stated two days before Christmas - good timing to be "neighborly," right? And you'd expect an attached unit in a townhouse to be better able to hear a dog in the adjoining yard, right? But then, I don't really know who penned the letter because they didn't have nerve to include a name.)

Dishes at 5:45 a.m.? Done. (Except for the silverware. I hate washing silverware. Don't know why, I just do and always have.)

Hair and clothes in order? For now...

Wake Chi up at 6 a.m. Attempted.

Wake Chi up again and watch her get out of bed at 6:10 a.m.

Make 4 trips to the car with our bags and the baby.... dunno, but it's never on schedule.

Kids at their respective day time care spots at 6:45 and 7:05 a.m. ? Check.

At work by 7:15 a.m. ... Well, no, but I sure did try my best while avoiding too hasty and unsafe a speed.

Then the hours roll on by until 2:02 p.m. when I attempt to escape my job for the second half of my parental duties aka the more important job.

Pick up kid two first. He sleeps peacefully in the car (I swear it's to recharge so he can hang out with me on my hip all night long).

I try to find something to occupy myself with that doesn't cost me anything until 3:40 p.m. (But shopping is sooooo much fun now that Ya fits in the shopping cart seat).

I could go home... but I'd be tempted to clean. (Then I'd lament at my laziness when I elect not to tamper with the dust, the wayward dirty socks, and the rug fuzzies.)

Finally, pick up kid one. Gauge her mood by her greeting. Attempt to reassure, soothe, praise, encourage, calm her as is needed.

At some point I am at home... lugging in my personal belongs, chub chub, the school and home diaper bags, breast pump bag, and bills (whatever happened to personal letters and cards, huh?).

Next on the list? "I'm hungry." "I'm starving." Or my personal favorite, "I'm not eating now," when dinner's on the table. I'm sure every mommy has fixed a 'feast' with one hand, right?

I've no idea when I go to bed... perhaps I shouldn't say I even do that. I usually crash with Ya in whatever I changed into after the last refunded meal - - sometimes in the covers, sometimes with the lights and T.V. off...

Did I mention I am exhausted?

Somewhere in between the mandatory activities I gather the laundry hidden under beds, in couch cushions, in "soiled" bags from the daycare, and (my personal favorite) in front of the shower or tub. Eventually I remember to switch the never ending loads to the dryer. And sometimes I actually sit down to fold and put away or hang the clothes.

And in my spare time? Pull out the camera for Project 365, shoot until the kids cover their faces, run and hide, intentionally avoid me, or cry in frustration (he can't talk yet, let alone crawl away, remember?). Check the blogs I follow for updates. Run a cycle of Mob Wars on Facebook, peak at posted photos, change my status (this morning's status update: "Mommy Rachelle is").

Is it Friday yet?