Since my last two blogs have been a tad on the whiney and complaining side I was thinking back to the early years and were they really any easier than things today. I remember when the kids were little all my patients used to say “Enjoy them…these are the best years of your life.” To which I would reply “Please , just shot me now.” You know the fatigue of toddlers , the contstant needs, yadda yadda yadda. Well I was thinking back to one of my worst days as a new parent. It went something like this.

It is 7:30 in the morning and I am getting ready for work. Ashley is three and I am certain in the last six months has been possessed by the devil or at the very least a smaller version of Roseanne. She was defiant and stubborn and on my very last nerve. I am nine months pregnant and getting ready for work. As I brush my teeth that familiar wave of nauseous hits . I say familiar because basically I had thrown up for the past nine months. As I am throwing up I wet my pants. Apparently the degree at which I was hurling along with being nine months pregnant had rendered me incontinent. So just so you have the mental picture, I am hugging the toilet, fat , throwing up , peeing my pants and I look like a rabid dog because of the toothpaste. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse Ashley yells from my bed “shut the door , I can’t hear Barney!!” Well that was the last straw. I came out of the bedroom crying, foaming at the mouth and reking of vomit and urine. That is when the real fun began. I was greeted by my husband and when I hysterically told him I was at my limit and I could not make it thru another day her looked at me and said ” Well, maybe if you were more organized your life would be easier. You know make lists of what you need to do , etc.” That was when I became eerily calm. Yes, he was right a list was exactly what I needed. So mentally I began to make my first list. It was titled things I will need to kill my husband and dispose of this body. Things like rope , a bag of lime , something to move the body with or an accomplice because any exertion was apparently rendering me incontinent and a trial of urine would most likey have DNA in it. And you know what he was right. I did feel better already. Just mentally making the list was gave me a sense of calm and I must say excitement. No longer was I the punking , incontinent woman but a woman with a plan, a mission, something to look forward to . No longer was I the overwhelmed puking housewife but I would be a hero in the world of moms and professional organizers. I could hear them now telling their husbands, “Don’t make me go Kim Eller on you” and the organizers would be on HGTV talking about what an effeicient list make I was.

Now as you all know I did not kill my husband. Mainly on that day because I was too darn tired to carry out my plan. Life did get easier and I gave birth to Michael shortly after. Ashley’s head stopped spinning around and she could hear Barney. I found the strength to muddle thru many more days involving bodily fluids, possessed toddlers and a husband that thought all my problems could be solved wit a Franklin Planner.