I want coffee... spiked with lots of liquor.

You know those v8 commercials where they thump ya on the head? Is it so bad I want to do that to the kids sometimes, and tell them to, "KNOCK IT OFF!"? I haven't done it, I'm jus' sayin', is all.

We have our good and bad days, and today was a "Oh my fucking god, I needed a padded room, stat!" days. They really didn't want to listen. Our power went out for a few hours, right as they woke up from nap-time.

Outfuckingstanding. So boredom kicks in. I attempted coloring time. Screw that. They knew what was going on (ok, maybe they didn't) but all I know is they had one thing on their mind, and that was seeing how fast they could destroy a clean house.

Well, if you're curious, they did it pretty damn fast, and they did a thorough job.

I'm finding it increasingly hard to have patience with them. A lot of the things they do I feel they should know better. I feel like they spend half the day in time-out (hey, it's better than spanking) but I don't know what else to do.

I've thought about taking toys away, but I'm not sure they'd grab that concept all too well. I mean, Natalie would throw a bloody fit if I took her Leapster away, but then she'd forget about it and move on to another toy.

They said the two's were hard, but I learned three's are where they drive you absolutely fucking crazy. I'm hoping 4 is better, but I'm getting the feeling it ain't gonna look up much. Natalie is just too independent, mischevious, hard-headed - ok, we'll stop there, because I could just go ON and on about that girl.

Dylan's the middle kid, or as Kenny likes to put it, "the one who will always get left out". Whatever. I won't allow that to happen. He's very sweet, and he's quirky. He's also very sensitive. And whines a lot. I hear that's common in boys.

And Marissa. Ahh, what a joy she is. From the get-go she was very different from Natalie and Dylan. SHE DIDN'T HAVE COLIC. While pregnant with her, I can remember crying and praying to the Gods, for her not to have colic. I knew I couldn't handle it again, not after Dylan and PPD.

You want to talk about crazy? I was it. I can't even talk about it.

Back to the subject at hand. Marissa's a VERY happy baby. She loves her mommy ('cause I've got the breasts, yo) and Daddy. She's got the prettiest blue eyes. I'll proudly lay claim that's all my doing.

So, there you have it. You've touched upon a slight taste of me and mine.

My zoo.