Just a vent note.

For the most part, I lead a charmed life. I have a decent roof over my head (I better knock on wood), a garden I love, two beautiful, smart little boys I birthed without conflict, and a cute, understanding, patient husband I'm in love with, and who loves me for some bizarre reason. But some days, even when I'm not PMSing, I question my own sanity. I side with the sarcastic title of my blog, not the legitimate one. I close my eyes, even when I'm walking around, and pray for patience, and a real smile. I counsel myself, over, and over, "It's not a big deal."

This morning I'm having trouble seeing the computer screen b/c my youngest angel-in-training found a stray brown crayon and colored me a picture--on the computer screen. I washed it off, but I can still see it. I found the 'art' right after I scrubbed my fibromyalgia into a frenzy cleaning ketchup, dog fur, and mashed bananas out of various soft surfaces in the living room, and I peeled my expensive scrapbooking stickers off the kids play barn. Yesterday, before we were awake, Ben made his own 'art' with my supplies. So far today, I've vacuumed with a bum vacuum, piled up laundry with pee and mashed bananas on it, washed dishes with ranch dressing, and leftover bacon gravy hardened on them, and buried the kittens poo for her. She's learning, but sometimes she makes mistakes. I have to tackle cleaning the boys room, which I can't walk into right now, and I can barely step in the upstairs hallway b/c of the 5 loads of laundry that need to be put away. The Japanese Beetles should start eating my plants in the next hour or so here, and my to-do list outside has been on the back-burner for way too long now. My brother's moving here in a month, and I have to make room for him, God only knows when I'll find time to get to that task? Not to mention preparing for our upcoming vacation to California, which we are barely/not going to be able to afford. I'm driving myself mad thinking about the things we need to fix here, the dripping hose, the half-removed dining room floor, and cracked and peeling kitchen counters, the garage doors that do not open, and our disgusting shower. Didn't I just clean the toilet and sink yesterday? It's g-r-o-s-s already? The best part, this is my fate today, tomorrow, and the next day. Enviable, right? (Groan).

I know my kids are going to amaze me today. I will laugh at them, I already have. They will hug me, and love me, I will get rest at some point after 9pm tonight. I can take some tylenol and kiss half the fibro pain goodbye, and at some point we'll make it outside and I'll see my roses, and feel better. I know this. But this morning, I can't help but wish I was a millionaire in Hawaii at a spa, getting a rub down.