At this point, I'd welcome those white coats...

Today was one of those days when you just look skyward and think "Really? Can I just get a little break?"

First of all it was cold.

Now I don't want to hear about it from you northerners. I'm frigging cold. I don't care if you're colder or if I'm a wimp because temperatures in the 40s and 50s aren't cold enough for me to warrant complaining. I'm a Florida girl and when the mercury drops below 70 I'm not happy about it.

Second of all, the kids have been out of school since the 18th of December. Two weeks of them being with me all the time, coupled with the holidays have pretty much set me on the brink of insanity. They go back to school tomorrow and I swear I'm going to hear choirs of angels singing when I drop the last bugger off in the morning.

And then this evening it was just one thing after another. First I attempted to get them to clean the bathroom. The Man's brother will be over tonight to watch some stuff on the TV with The Man and I attempt to at least make sure the bathroom he has to use isn't too gross. He's not picky - thanks, E! - but I try to at least make sure he doesn't have to be accosted with a floater or anything. That's the kind of nice sister-in-law I am.

There was whining and gnashing of teeth and complaining over all of that for what seemed like FOREVER. Finally, the bathroom was "clean"... according to their standards. But whatever.

Then the dog, who I'm loving a whole lot less these days, chewed up my Zafu (meditation cushion) and little wheat husks or whatever that thing was stuffed with went all over the floor. So I cried a little and attempted to not kill the dog and Bug (the sweetheart that he is) cleaned it up for me so I wouldn't have to see it. I love that kid.

Next we had to get to the grocery. We're all in the car and ready to go and Goober says to me "Mommy, I only have one shoe."

Of course you only have one shoe. Why would I assume you'd have two shoes on your feet when you get in the car???

So back in the house we go to get two shoes.

Then, just when they're getting ready for bed and I'm thinking the day is finally going to be calm, I hear "Mommy, Sudo pooped on my library book."

I'm done, y'all. Absolutely fried.

But you know what? I do this all to myself. Somehow. I know this, because I see other women who have three kids (sometimes more!) and a dog or some other animal and they're not crazy. They manage to have clean homes and their kids get to bed on time and their dogs don't poop on the library books or chew up their Zafus.

I think it's time to break out the iron fist. And the alcohol.