Today I dropped my housework to stop and read with my six year-old, who has picked up a surprising amount in just a few days. We had a little picnic on the porch for lunch, which is when things started to get interesting. My baby fell off a step and scraped his head and his leg, and my girls would take a chipmunk-sized bite out of their grilled cheese sandwiches and then get up to dance, pick flowers (weeds), or retrieve the chocolate milk from the fridge, which was promptly spilled and I had to clean it up while fending off cute baby. I was feeling behind, and tired, though I tried to be a good sport. I'm sure lucky to be their mom, even when things don't go exactly as planned.