One of these things

Is not like the others.

One of these things just doesn't belong.

:o)

Brody hopped into the toy box and passed out cold.

Today, it was decided that Blake's name should be Bailey. So the poor pooch has had her name changed twice in 24 hours. Luckily, it's not bothering her one tiny bit.

So, Bailey Mae it is :o)

I haven't come up with a middle name for Brody that I really like yet.

The pups had a long, hard day of chewing, having accidents all over the flipping place, and playing like... well, like puppies, I guess!

Let me say, I am absolutely head over heels in love with these dogs.

They are strikingly gorgeous, cuddly, playful, friendly, and did I mention beauuutiful.

They think they're lap dogs... they would sit in my lap allll day if they could.

I love to sit in the big bean bag and have them both snuggle with me at the same time.

I was feeling more than slightly overwhelmed tonight, though.

I found an extensive mess all over the place upstairs.

I had gone out grocery shopping, Mom was home with Rayce, and she let the pups out, thinking that Rayce would keep an eye on them.

One problem.

Rayce is six.

Two problems, actually.

Rayce is six, and he is Anthony's son.

Meaning he can't unglue his eyes from the screen, whether the screen be a TV screen, a computer screen, or whatever other kind of screen there might be.

So although I realized the pups had been upstairs... I didn't realize they had

1) pooped and peed in the boys room. In several places.

2) pooped and peed in the girls room. In several places

3) peed in my room. In two places.

4) gotten into the trash and chewed up several diapers, and strewn peed diaper gel goo all over the entire upstairs.

*big sigh*

It was when I was heading upstairs to clean up this ridiculous mess that I stepped in pee in the foyer.

Turned around to clean it up and saw more. Lots more.

*huge sigh*

So I threw paper towels down on the wet spots downstairs, went upstairs and scrubbed and blotted and sprayed and picked up everything on the floor to put in the hamper, and vacuumed, while the kids were in the tub.

Then I went downstairs and had to pick up everything down there, then blot and wipe, sweep, mop with vinegar to get rid of the smell.

Then I tried unsuccessfully to get the kids in bed.

They were CRAZED.

Which happens at bedtime 99% of the time.

Sliding down the stairs on their bellies, screaming, laughing at me when I yelled.

But I was already at the end of my rope, exhausted, overwhelmed, frustrated, and on the verge of tears.

I was supposed to go pick up a kennel from my friend's mom who is going to loan me hers, but Charlize was having a psychotic fit of rage, and Mom isn't much for babysitting, especially at bedtime, and she won't keep walking up the stairs to put kids back in bed. So I couldn't go anywhere.

Sooooo I had to rearrange the makeshift ghetto rigged cage I have put together with the kids craft pipe cleaners.

I'm desperately hoping the crate will make the house breaking easier.

Now it's after 10pm, everyone is finally in bed and asleep, but one of the girls keeps coughing to the point of gagging, and Samson, Ben, and Sly are all in my room, the cats are fighting and Sammy must be chewing on his butt. Loudly. 

I would ask if it were bedtime yet.

But obviously, the answer is yes.

I guess the question should be... why am I not asleep yet?!?!?!

Yeesh.