Longest Hour

A lot of my hours feel long, but the longest hour (and a few minutes) of the week is when Mike goes to church and I am here with the kids.  The girls are SUPER noisy and I spend most of the time telling them to PLEASE be quiet and to USE A QUIETER voice, while I am trying to listen for Anthony.  I try to catch him before he gets mad, which happens, I guess, about five seconds after he wakes up.  Today we went upstairs to get the girls dressed and I heard him crying.  I have to go in and close the door and listen to the girls get mad about whatever the HELL it is that they're getting mad about while I try and comfort him.  He is almost always wet, and so are his pajamas and bedding, so I have to get him out of there, all the time listening to those darlings in the other room a) dropping a 10 lb. weight on the floor, b) climbing up from my hamper to my dresser and/or c) being mad and screaming because she CAN'T get up on the hamper.  I race back and forth between the girls in my room and Anthony in his, changing sheets, changing diapers, singing and trying to head off his tantrum, and it never works and the whole time I think, please come home.  Please come home and help me.  Then two hours later, I go to church and the same thing happens to Mike, minus the wakeup.  Another pleasant Sunday, ha!