Here was my afternoon: I got home literally as the bus brought Snail home. I wheel her in with a sooky 2 year old who has just woken up. I let the dogs in. I wonder what the hell that stuff is Mr B is eating. Turns out it's cat shit. The cat has shat on my new red rug. And Mr B has eaten it. I clean up the remaining cat shit. L is crying for boob. I give boob. And then "other booby". Some more boob. Make snacks and drinks. Give snacks and drinks to chidlers while fending off dogs. Watch Ice Age 2 *again*. Surf net for a bit while trying not to let the Lolster empty her water on my laptop *again*. More boob. Fend off Snail with my foot while she has jealous rage about the boobing. Realise I have to go get Smash from his bus after soccer practice. Go to get Snail in chair. Realise she has a poo. While going to get a nappy for her, step in the giant piss that Mr B has done in my hallway, despite the back door being OPEN. Get nappy, fight with Snail to change poo. Get poo on my hands and Snail's foot. Swear some more. Clean up. Realise I need new pants for Snail. Go to get pants and slip in dog wee again. Get pants. Put on kid. Put old towel on dog wee. Put kid in wheelchair, while she's holding the world's biggest toy because apparently putting it down is made of horror. Wheel kid and escort toddler to car. Load in car (still holding toy). Park chair. Get Smash. Come home. Load kid in chair (toy). Escort toddler and wheel kid upstairs. Unload (toy some more). Put Ice Age back on as I have to cook tea. Listen to the crying coz it's not Blue's Clues. Put on Blue's Clues and listen to the crying coz it's not Ice Age. Decide which crying is worse. Put Ice Age back on. Cook dinner. Wrestle kids. DinnerDad gets home. Eat dinner, DinnerDad does baths, try to watch Masterchef over the yells and enthusiastic ballon wrestling being done by all three kids. DinnerDad takes Snail to bed. Balloon wrestle with toddler til after 9pm. Take toddler to bed. Give 9 different sides of boob to toddler before she FINALLY goes to sleep. come out and fail to (apparently) divide pie accurately and add icecream. Yell at husband. Eat pie. Write in blog. Just another day *doing nothing*.