Day Four…and so far, no one has been voted off the island. Actually – the kids have been really good. I mean for them. So if you think that acting like something out of a Stephen King novel only 50% of the time is “really good,” then we are practically sharing a brain.

This morning George woke up at 4:30 with what I think was a nightmare, so I brought him to bed with me. It’s a guilty pleasure, having one of my tiny toddlers to cuddle in bed. Two of them is another story of course, but Eleanor didn’t follow him (for once). The big downside is that when the toddler in bed with you wakes up, there is no pretending that you can’t hear them. The direct eye contact makes that rather tricky to pull off. George opened his eyes at 6:45 and let me doze for about 15 more minutes though – so I can’t complain.

I just hope that he doesn’t start making this a habit. He is already driving me crazy with his insistence upon me holding him all the time. In fact, George’s attachment to me has now reached a level that begs the question, “is it normal for a two year old to sit on my lap while I go to the bathroom?” I would guess, “no.” But hey – it’s his future on the psychiatric couch, not mine.

Eleanor and Oliver woke up shortly after we did, and before I knew it two hours had transpired. How is it possible that time can pass so quickly when you are literally doing nothing? This was great since I had plans to bring them back to the At Play Cafe at 10 a.m. and hoped to make it back home in time to watch the 11:30 swearing in ceremony.

In the meantime, I could watch the events on the large flat screen TV while my kids played. In fact, I would have been happy enough to just stay there through the presidential address. But I had no illusions about everyone lasting that long. Eleanor was already acting like she needed a nap.

The kids found a soulmate in a two year old boy named Max who seems destined to break several spines on the football field. He was little – but he was unstoppable. While they wrestled with Max, I caught up with my neighborhood friend, Tricia (also known as Reston Mom). A good time was had by all.

Soon enough Eleanor made it clear that she was done with the At Play Cafe, and I realized that it was already 11:30! So typical that I would spend a great moment in history engrossed in c-section comparison stories… But when I looked at the TV, I saw that we still had some time. Five minutes, two tantrums, one coatless child and a rousing game of musical stroller seats later, we arrived at our car. I had Eleanor under one arm, screaming something about wanting to walk and George was busily trying to unbuckle his seat belt. Only Oliver was content to be still – and happily contributed his 55+ lbs to my one handed double stroller pushing. I’m SO ready to retake that grade school presidential physical fitness test…

The minute we arrived home, I threw something in front of them that resembled lunch and then flew down to the basement in time to see the swearing in. Seriously – it was timed perfectly. I even got to hear the very beginning of Obama’s speech without interruption. Unfortunately George and Eleanor came down to look for me and I spent the rest of the speech with my ear against the television as they fired unintelligible questions at me. I think I caught about 60% of the speech. I’ll have to read it online later tonight to fill in the gaps.

I gave up at that point and switched the channel back to Noggin. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling a bit smug about seeing ANY of the inauguration. Sad really…

Like I said, Eleanor was really tired and went down for her nap without protest. George? Not so much. But at least he didn’t try to escape. Oliver and I took advantage of the quiet (aside from George’s blood curdling screams, that is) to watch Mary Poppins for the 50th time this week. I also thought this would be a great time to whip up some cupcakes.

I’ve probably mentioned before that I have very little interest in cooking. At some point I did, but since my free time has now decreased by about 99.9%, I’ve decided that I’d rather spend it outside of my hideous, tiny galley kitchen. Baking is another story though. I’m perfectly content with box cake mixes, and what’s a few minutes of mixing compared to the fun of eating two dozen cupcakes as a snack? Oliver concurred.

Now, I don’t generally keep much junk food in the house, and my kids don’t actually eat a lot of dessert beyond store bought cookies now and then. But I do tend to fall back on doling out the treats when left to my own devices. In fact, I have a long history of overfeeding small children when I’m at a loss for anything else to do. I tend to think, “hmm – what do I feel like doing right now?” The answer usually involves ice cream.

Once when I was in my early twenties, I took care of my five year old cousin, Emmett for a week while his parents were in Europe. Emmett was one of those kids who was a little on the chubby side. This all changed when he hit puberty and grew 24 inches. But when he was five, he was pretty stout. I’m sure that I got some directions about limiting his fat and caloric intake, but after a day or two of playing with action figures, I lost my mind. I won’t get into the particulars of our many visits to pizza and ice cream parlors – but it would be safe to say that by the time his parents returned, Emmett had gained 5 lbs.

I’m not sure if my kids will gain any weight this week. But I’m fairly certain I will.

Aside from eating too much, I’ve also seriously let myself go appearance-wise. Today is the first time since Chris left that I’ve even washed my hair. But it’s not as bad as it sounds. Since the winter air is so incredibly dry, one would never know that I should have been a complete grease ball by now.

While I’ve enjoyed a week of fabulous hair days, my poor daughter has not fared quite as well. I’ve written before about her fine blond hair and how it has taken two years to even look like she has actual hair on her head. And in spite of it being so obviously there now, static electricity has taken it’s toll on her wisps. Her hair is now perpetually plastered to the sides of her face. The look is similar to Taylor Momson’s awful new hairstyle (that would be Jenny from Gossip Girl’s Joan Jett ‘do).

The boys’ hair isn’t as affected by the dry weather – but they are both long overdue for a trim. Right now their hair is so long that with a little styling mousse they could give Uncle Jesse from Full House a run for his money. Now that I think of it…THAT could be a fun activity (for me). My children should thank their lucky stars that I go back to work tomorrow.

Oh – so many other things to report today… From a disastrous outing to pick up pizzas for dinner to the discovery that Oliver is running a raging fever (great timing since he’s having testing done tomorrow…) But I’m not writing a diary here – and honestly, the past three days of “chronicling” have worn me out. I’m not great with blow by blow accounts. I’m far too long winded for that.

So this will be the final installment “Home Alone.” Even though it’s looking likely that I WON’T be going to work tomorrow (since daycare has that ridiculous “no fevers” rule), I’m considering today the finale of my long weekend with the kids. Chris gets back Saturday night, and while I’ll be SO glad to see him, I’ve kind of enjoyed this trial by fire. I’ve actually learned some things about my parenting (and coping) skills: It’s always best to remain calm, a little patience goes a long way, and when in doubt, indulge in an early happy hour (either wine or cupcakes – pick your poison).

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