Real time dispatch

I've barricaded myself in the kitchen with the only child who seems somewhat sane today. After all, Owen cries and screams in terror whenever his sister or brother screeches. Seems like a pretty sane reaction to me. Maybe I ought to try it.

So far today, we've had about one good hour, which is more than we get some days. And considering the intense heat, that's actually pretty good. We went out right after breakfast to burn off some energy. Unfortunately, all they wanted to do was swing on the swings. Not much of an energy burner, but at least it's a way to stay cool. They played with the water table I set up for all of five minutes; then Danny stripped down to his underwear and dumped all the water out. 

Danny is in his room reading his High Five magazine. I sent him there after an attempt at snack time that was swiftly aborted when Danny slammed the refrigerator door on his sister's head and fingers. She never cries over these things. She's really that tough. But I flipped out and sent him to his room. In the past 24 hours, he did a handstand on a chair and kicked his brother in the head while I was nursing him and then threw a large rubber ball at my face ten seconds after apologizing for the last infraction. At this point, we're safer with him in his room. 

Fiona has muscled her way into the kitchen and is stabbing a pack of ramen noodles with a fork and whining for more water from the fridge which she tries to drink and then pours on the floor. In the process of learning to drink from a cup, she's coating the kitchen floor with water. Maybe I'll mop later.

We're now having the second attempt at snack time. Hopefully, it will go a little better this time.