Commitment Issues (PLEASE commit me!)

My name is Robin, and I am certifiably insane.

There was a time in my life when I had big plans for my future. I was going to do something fantastic that would change the world. Somewhere along the way, I acquired four children - three that I gave birth to, and one that I married. Now my plans for my life rarely involve anything greater than making it through the day without finding myself in jail or a sanitarium. Either would be like a mini vacation for me.

To an outsider, my family might seem quite normal. There's me, a loving, thirtysomething stay at home mom with three gorgeous kids and a handsome husband. There's my husband, a hardworking man with the patience of a saint and a few hobbies that include cars and pinball machines. Let's not forget the kids: Bryan, a 13 year old who is not only polite and well behaved, but also very smart and funny; Molly, a precocious 3 year old with a lot of energy and a contagious laugh; and Abigail, a cuddly 1 year old with a smile who can light up a room.

Here's the reality.

I am a frazzled, overworked, and sometimes mental wreck who can't keep the house clean (and couldn't care less). About every other day I curse the day I made a decision to stay home, and on the other days I alternate between laughing and crying. I'm an emotional basket case. Motherhood is enough to convert any relatively normal woman into a lunatic.

My husband, while appearing to be a very patient man, is actually so laid back that he just doesn't care about anything. The girls can be painting museum quality artwork on the walls with their own bodily fluids (or solids) and it just doesn't phase him a bit. His hobbies are collecting broken things, and storing them everywhere he can find a spot. Cars on blocks? Had 'em. Pieces of boats? Yep, had them too. It's endless. His favorite phrases are "I don't know," and "You can't be mad at that." I sure do love him.

Bryan is actually a well behaved teenager - at least in public. For the last 9 years, every time I attended an open house at school or met with a teacher (or baseball coach or neighbor, etc.) I hear adults singing the praises of my young son. I've tried to give him away to these strangers who know a side of my son that I don't. I've tried many times. I always get a polite laugh and a slight look of confusion in return. These people do not know the temperamental, moody boy that I live with. I sure do love him.

Molly is indeed a charming young lady. She has the type of energy that I could only achieve with the help of a five gallon bucket of espresso and massive quantities of speed. Her favorite game is "running in circles." It involves running in circles. At high speed. Endlessly. She tends to be an overachiever - anything you think a child could not actually do, well, Molly will. Climb up onto the refrigerator? Yep. Fill her baby sisters crib with every toy, piece of clothing, and small piece of furniture in the bedroom (while Abigail is laying trapped underneath it all)? Yep. The list goes on and on. I sure do love her.

Abigail is actually the most manageable of my three children. I attribute that to the fact that she is only one year old. She just hasn't had enough time to develop her own special brand of torture for me. I thought she was on to something for a while when she decided to play Picasso with the contents of her diaper at nap time (over and over and over). When I finally got to a point where the vein in my forehead stopped bulging out every time I went in her room to find a brown Mona Lisa on the wall, she decided to switch it up a little and just eat the poo. I am really hoping that the fecal episodes will stop when she's potty trained. Hopefully at least by the time she starts school. I sure do love her.

My life is a daily adventure. Wish me luck on the "72 hour involuntary commitment" thing. I sure could use a break.