You know those moments when ...

... your husband is gone to a stake priesthood meeting

... and you've had a long day and are thinking about just making pancakes (again)

... but then you think that your man has had a long day too and doesn't really like pancakes

... so you set about making a real dinner with pork chops and all the fixins cause you love him

... and figure you might as well start the lasagna for tomorrow's missionary dinner (and also because you're insane)

... and while you're in the middle of it all you realize the baby is attempting to eat a banana through skin absorption - most particulary his head

... so you abandon dinner and give the baby a bath

... only to hear your four-year-old blast Moulin Rouge at full volume

... so you dress the baby and plop him in the ExerSaucer

... try to convince said four-year-old to play something like Sesame Street songs (he's not convinced)

... and you go back to the kitchen and the two-year-old is alternately licking the tomato sauce and eating pieces of raw pork

... and when you stop freaking out about that the four-year-old pops a balloon directly over the baby's head

... and the baby screams. A lot.

... and you're cooing and coddling the baby and finally just nurse him, because he's completely hysterical

... and when you finally get him calmed down, you leave the bedroom to discover the two oldest children running around like maniacs, fully dressed, in the pouring rain

... and you just figure THE HECK WITH IT

and join 'em.