Please, DON'T help me.

Me no good mood today. I've been up since 5am, so that right there puts me off. I don't sleep much later than that, but still! I tried to fall back to sleep after Pickles woke up but The Dude was snoring so friggen loud I just couldn't. So I got up, ground the coffee beans, put the pot on to brew and hopped in the shower. Yay! A shower! I haven't had one of those in FOREVER!
I wake up the still snoring Dude, hand him his coffee and let him know the shower is all his. I head to the kitchen to finish any lingering dishes from the previous night, switch the clothes in the washer to the dryer, pull out the clothes from the dryer and fold those bad boys. It's about then that I hear the twins arguing (6:30ish). Twin B is demanding that Twin A get up and open the door for her. Twin B still hasn't mastered that little skill, so she's at the whim of her sister. Twin A refuses and there is a fierce fight going on. Finally, I hear the door swing open and Twin B appears...all smiles.
I meet their demands of milk, vitamins and a waffle and head back to the kitchen to fix The Dude a breakfast quesadilla. I barely get a thank you before he sits down and pulls out MY laptop. I'm not being a biotch here. It is my laptop. Our bosses bought it for me so I could work at home during my maternity leave with Pickles, and for those days that I'm without a sitter. Currently, my desktop at work is out of commission so the laptop is my only computer. I had it packed up and ready to go, then HE takes it out to play games.
"Please make sure that gets packed up before I'm ready to leave." I even said that nicely.
"It's only 7:30. Chill out," he groggily tells me.
I rolled my eyes because I can already see how this morning will play out.
By the time Pickles rolls out of bed I'm ready for everyone to be dressed and ready to head out. The Dude picks up Pickles and sets him on his lap. He offers to screw up the process help, by dressing Pickles himself. GREAT. This will slow me down by at least 10 minutes.
Twin A rocked this morning. She got herself dressed, socks, shoes and all, AND was ready to go without any complaints. Twin B would NOT get shoes on, no matter how much I begged.
As I ushered Pickles and Twin A to the car, The Dude breezes by me, muttering something about being late for work. I take a step back into the house to holler at Twin B when I see it. Surprise, surprise, my laptop is sitting on the table next to The Dude's chair. Of course he's long gone by this point so I have to get all the kids buckled in AND re-pack my laptop. Is he trying to make my mornings more difficult?! I swear!
After lots of tears over Twin B's missing blue cape we discover the cape was actually IN the car already. Geez.
I made it to work, only 9 minutes late today (new record). Oh, special treat, FIL's dogs are here this morning. Lovely. I just LOVE my office smelling like a combination of feet, Frito's, and vomit (one of the dogs has this allergy that makes her stink SOOOOO badly). Stellar day I tell you, stellar.

How to ruin a perfectly good Friday.

My girls are on a fairly strict routine. We deviate from the routine, and things get ugly, REALLY quickly. They are creatures of habit, and although they'd like to think they can change it up and be alright, that just isn't the case.
Last night we went to the inlaws for dinner. I had made the kids an appointment for haircuts after work. I planned on bringing them (and their jammies) to The Big House (as we like to call my inlaw's house) directly after. We got their around 5:30. I figured my mil would have the kids' food just about ready as she knows they eat early and are in bed by 7pm. Not so much.
The little people's food wasn't ready until 6:45 (7pm bedtime, remember??). I rolled my eyes but just dealt with it. They ate and I had them in jammies and entertained while we sat down to dinner around 7pm.
The Dude and I all but inhaled our food in an effort to salvage any part of their normal bedtime routine. I was ready to roll by 7:30. By this time, MIL and FIL had but "Bee Movie" on and were snuggled on the couch with the twins. Now, this kind of thing doesn't happen much, so I let them do that for a while as I thought it was sweet. Then Pickle's sleepyness hit him. Whoa nelly, time to go. FIL announces that he wants to keep the twins overnight.
You could have knocked me over with a feather. They never ask to keep the kids, EVER. Sure why not. He even offers to go into work late so he could have breakfast with them. At this point, I'm not completely convinced that I haven't fallen asleep on the couch and am dreaming this scenario, but I go with it.
The Dude and I pack up Pickles and head home.
9pm (two hours after normal bedtime). Phone rings.
"Hello?"
"Hey it's Mom. Um, could you bring over some of the girls stuffed animals? I think they need them."
"They don't need them. Why are they awake?"
"Just bring the animals."
So the dude packs up a few animals and makes the drive (3 blocks) over. The twins are still awake and MIL is turning on a new movie. WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME LADY?!??!! GEEZ!
The Dude flips out on his parents. A slight overreaction, but hey, whatever. He goes to put the twins in the car and realizes he brought his truck...you know, the one without car seats.
Back in the house he goes. Plops them in bed and leaves.
*The next morning*
I pop over by 7:30 with their clothes, ready for battle. I walk into The Dude's old bedroom, which is now the grandkid's catch-all room. The bed is stripped. I know what this means. MIL will give the twins cup, after cup, after friggen cup of milk and juice. Surprise, surprise, they peed the bed.
After I wrestle their clothes on and get them in the car, the crying starts. It's not even 8am yet and I need a Xanax.
Calgon, take me away.