That's all I want. Just one day when it stops for a second. No toddler hollering at six am. No preschooler wanting to play with trains at seven. No beds to be changed, no laundry to be done, no cats to be fed, no drainboard full of last night's dishes to be emptied. No breakfast to make while two children cling to my knees and whine with hunger. No breakfast to serve, or clean up. No fights over trains to break up. No, "Leave your brother alone!" No, "Give that back!" No organizing the diaper bag and filling the everlasting sippy cups. No getting clothes on and diapers changed and shoes on and sunscreen applied. No wrestling everyone the door. No loading up the van, no clicking into carseats, no driving to playgroup or preschool or library or park or gym or doctor or dentist or vet or grocery store or co-op or mall or church or friend's house. No unloading at the destination, no shepherding into building, no wrangling of children for minutes or hours in grocery aisles or waiting rooms or children's rooms or living rooms or play areas. No collecting and reorganizing and persuading and coaxing and ordering and carrying and stuffing back into carseats and van. No unloading the van with weeping toddlers and hungry preschoolers and stuff everywhere. No dumping stuff in the front hall. No fixing lunch and snacks and bottles and having none of it eaten. No cleaning up, no reading, no diaper changing, no singing and rocking and walking and singing and rocking some more to get the goddamned nap going. No snatched moments to prep cook dinner and fold laundry and call the idiot satellite TV company that keeps charging us for a service we haven't had for eighteen months. No getting horribly drowsy and trying desperately to stay awake and generate the energy to start the afternoon post-nap. No diaper changes, no snack-providing, no repeating the morning's entire sequence from shoes to car to road to mall or wherever to in to out to car to home. No scrambling to make dinner with two cranky hungry whiny clingy kids hanging all over me. No finally getting dinner on the table and having kids fling it to the floor. No cleaning up the kitchen. No cleaning up the playroom. No organizing everyone to get upstairs for baths. No stripping kids, running tub, dealing with multiple meltdowns. No heaving kids into the tub. No drying tears when heads get split open on the faucet. No washing hair while children scream bloody murder. No handing off one screaming child to husband who has just now walked in the door from work in perfect time to rev up the bed-ready children for another hour. No cleaning the bathroom. No reading to the older one while husband puts the younger one down again and again. No fetching of snacks and water and stuffed animals and trains before the final good-night. No sitting in the room while the child goes to sleep because his father started that trend while you were away working three nights in a row and now it can't be broken without an effort you are just too damn tired to make at 8 pm. No finally getting finished with children after fourteen hours, then spending another hour listening to your husband recite HIS day. No falling into bed and hoping your husband goes to sleep before you so you can just READ A BOOK IN PEACE WITH NO ONE WANTING ANYTHING FROM YOU FOR FIVE BLESSED MINUTES. No drifting off to sleep just as the toddler wakes up coughing. No repeating it all six hours later.
Just one day. That's all I want. Just one.