Yesterday was a family day at home because of the Monday holiday (thanks Chris Columbus!). We had a playdate in the morning so while I was in the house with the boyz and our guests, Hubby was able to channel his inner Paul Bunyon to chop down some trees in our backyard (Phase I of "Operation Landscape--Finally Preparing the Backyard For a Frickin' Swingset").
Hot lunch was served (hey, chicken nuggets count!) and then it was naptime! (Hear the angels singing?!) Hubby put the boyz to bed and went back outside with Eldest. I hunkered down on the couch for some Entourage...
And woke up 2 hours later! (Apparently I'm suffering from post-half marathon-stress-syndrome.)
So both families went to dinner. The boyz were (shockingly) well-behaved and chowed down on their quesadillas with gusto. The drive home was pleasant as we all sung along to Plain White T's "Hey There Delilah".
We returned to the Trenches. Chaos ensued.
Middle and Eldest fought over a puzzle.
Baby was crying because he wanted Middle's yellow Matchbox car that Middle was holding just out of his reach (on purpose).
Hubby was becoming more and more aggravated as he was attempting to herd all 3 upstairs for bathtime.
I needed to run the vacuum downstairs (so my babysitter won't think we live in filth).
Baby wouldn't listen.
And poof, just like that, the relative serenity of the day was drowned in a quagmire of crying, shouting and whining.
[Does this sound familiar? Puh-leeze tell me I'm not the only one...]