Today I made cornbread, roasted chicken. The girls ate the chicken, all the kids ate the cornbread. Did all the dishes.

I've discovered internet radio and can't get enough. I found a New Age station where, when you turn it on, a soothing male voice says:

RELAX! You're about to enter a STRESS FREE zone!

If Mr. Crazy sees me getting flustered now, he'll say, "Hey mom, why don't you enter the stress-free zone?"

Oh these girls won't stop bickering. How much is there to fight about when you're three years old? Why is it they've mastered the art of torturing each other with facial expressions? How is that possible, to make someone sob just by "looking at them weird?" I need to understand this.

The baby woke up three times last night so I'm somewhat zombified. I fell asleep for a few minutes this afternoon while the baby slept, and woke up feeling like Wonder Woman with itchy contact lenses.

Cold and yucky today. I heard the squirrels in the roof this morning for the first time in nearly a month and they did NOT sound happy. Either it was an enemy squirrel ambush or a cat got up there with them. I felt an evil satisfaction listening to their frantic scampering. I used to think they were cute. I used to feed them. But after they woke me up in the middle of the night for the umpteenth time, after they started to gnaw a path into the living room ceiling, I began to daydream about their demise. So I let the cat loose on them. Victory!