Surrounded, and losing ground on all fronts

Animals sense fear. Children sense weakness.

I miss Ami's approach to middle of the night wake-up calls. She would scream, get changed, guzzle both tanks, and be back asleep in ten minutes. Twice a night.

Susanna takes after her father. If she wakes in the night, she'll be up for a while, think about some things, look around, enjoy the silence, stars, scriptures and the solitude - except that she does not want solitude or scriptures. Her approach to the nights is to casually eat over a period of about six hours while expecting attention the entire time.

Tim is pressing his luck. Trying to throw away food instead of clearing his plate and still getting dessert is just the start. At one point today, as David assisted on the homework battle front and I was working with the other ladies, he flanked our positions and went into our room. It wasn't until about an hour in we realized that we had not heard his constant karate chop and gunfire background noises. We found him, hidden under our bed, having watched the majority of a movie on David's iPod.

Even Maggie tested our fatigue-riddled parenting by informing us "No" she would not do her chore for the day. We're not that out of it Little Miss.

Fortunately a couple friends have brought us delicious dinners the last two nights, providing some respite amid the chaos.

Now, Ami decided to drop her pants and pee on the bathroom floor. Twice. Why?

Because children detect weakness.

At times like this David asks if we have reached the point when duct tape is appropriate.

Tempting...