The day started with the standard alarm signal. We invested in a special device which has twin speakers. One repeatedly chirps while the other grunts and occasionally spits out a low pitched growl/emergency broadcast signal. It is an effective method at killing slumber, as effective as a sling shot pebble between the eyes. It is also self programmed and varies its signals every so often. We wouldn't want to get too comfortable, now, would we? Shawn and the girls have whizzed out the door with lunches, briefcase, toast and backpacks in tow. The kitchen looks like an inventory specialist popped in sometime during the night and made sure to leave out every single item from every single drawer and cupboard. The peanut butter sits open on the counter with a butter knife sticking straight up. I know immediately that it was Madeleine who had left it this way. She had wrapped the knifes handle in a wad of napkins. She does so to keep her hand from getting peanut butter on it after digging in to the bottom of the container. I considered a complete kitchen renovation which, at the moment, seemed like an easier task than cleaning it.

I walked down the hallway and opened the twins bedroom door with the standard exclamation, " Good Morning, stinkies!" and reveled in the joy and excitement of their response. Charlotte started to repeat her "eeewwww" sound she makes when she needs a diaper change and I noticed that something smelled a bit "rosy". I moved in closer and could see that her diaper was laying neatly folded over in her crib next to a big wet puddle. "Eeeewwwww" was right. And I just, JUST washed their bedding and returned it to their cribs the day before. I learned years ago that the surest way to have a ginormous spill is to mop the kitchen floor. Works every time. Obviously, a universal rule.

The babies are fed and dressed and playing in their room while I fold laundry. Seth came in with a mini Leatherman on the scissor setting and a button suspiciously similar to the decorative buttons on my duvet. He said, "Look! I found a button to your comforter!" I asked him if he "found" the button by cutting it off of the duvet cover. He said, "no". I asked him if he was sure and he said," weeeeeeeeelll". He shot me his signature crooked and long smile which made me instantly visualize discovering through an ancestry search the The Grinch was in fact our relative. I couldn't help but laugh. It is absolutely impossible for me to imagine him grown. The charm of his bright blue eyes and freckles is so appealing at 4 years old. I admit it has probably saved his life a time or two.

In the distance I could hear a rhythmic whack of a maraca followed by a squeal from Sam. It continued till I reached the door. Charlotte froze and smiled with the incriminating evidence raised in her hand above her head. She has done this before and I put the maraca up thinking it would help. It didn't. Ten minutes later I heard the child-sized tambourine tapping against something and the same Sam squeal following it. Today she somehow got hold of the maraca again. I fear that Sam may develop a twitch that will manifest itself anytime he hears latin music. We played and played. We read stories and stacked cups, put shoes on and took them off, repeatedly. Charlotte tugged at her doll and said "Piiiiitttttteeeee. Piiiiiitttteeeeee" Someday she will pronounce it "pretty", but until then I am happy to hear her high pitched voice chirp away. Just not in the form of an air raid siren.

A lot happens before ten a.m. And it's good.