The-Courier-recoveringnoah

I just wanted to take a minute and give a big blogging group hug to all you fabulous Mama's out there who responded to my "How Do You All Do It?" post. I know there are a few of you Dad's out there who read this (Hi, Mike!), but none of ya'll replied... so, sorry.. can't include you in this big Thank You post.

Honestly, I cannot tell you how blessed I am to know such a fantastic group of crazy, wacked-out women. Seriously...some of you can sure bring on the crazy, can't you? And I LOVE it. I was cracking up reading some of those comments. I had no idea any of you led insane lives that mirrored mine. Isn't it funny how you imagine that everyone else has it all together... and then you get the utter pleasure of realizing that they're all just hanging by a thread - ready to go loco at any minute. Isn't that awesome?

Are you detecting a bit too much glee in my voice?

Anyway, today, when I thought I was seriously going to lose my mind... I just imagined all you sitting in your house all stressed out, too.... and it made me feel soooooooooo much better.

Like right now... as I'm typing this... Eli is screaming because Nandini just hit him with some binoculars. Noah just did a stinky and I don't have any wipes because the other two got a hold of the box and pulled them all out - now they're covering my bathroom floor in a sticky, wet mess. Nandini is going through our magazine rack right this moment and throwing magazines all over the place. I can smell little perfume inserts wafting about in the living room. Oops.. .she just ran over to pinch Eli who has climbed into Noah's therapy chair and is stuck. Bad choice, Eli... she's gonna get you now. You can't run and you can't hide. Oh wait, what's that? Noah's opened the fridge and has a can of Redi Whip in one hand and a thing of biscuits in the other. And he still has that stinky. And there are no wipes. Eeew.

Normally, I'd be reaching for the chocolate... maybe shutting myself into the bathroom and curling up into a little ball... but not today. Not right now... because I'm rejoicing in the fact of knowing that this same scenario is playing out in homes across America this very moment.

So, thank you dear sisters. Please feel free to share your pain more often. It's much cheaper than a therapist and less fattening than a bag of Hershey kisses. (And typing does burn calories. I'm not sure how many, but I'm pretty sure it does).

Now.... if any of you can tell me how to convince my husband that a messy, toy-strewn house is perfectly normal... I'd really, really appreciate it.

And while we're at it... do any of you stay in your pajama's all day and then quickly change clothes, pop in your contacts and brush your teeth about 15 minutes before your husband gets home?

Not that I do that sort of thing, you know. I'm just asking for a friend.

Leslie