I'ma gonna kick yer -

Ah, good times. Did I mention I suffer from night terrors? Actually, I don't suffer from them, but my husband has been known to be battered upon. I had another one last night, which is odd. I don't know why they would crop up again now, when all is hunky dory in the world.

Oh, yeah. I guess maybe all isn't hunky dory and that stupid house guest STRESS is visiting again and I'ma gonna kick her ass outta here cause I hate her. Today I was on a last-minute conference call !surprise! letting me know I'll be travelling to a meeting the same week my husband is away at his meeting.

Now, I'm no mathemagician, but I'm thinking two little kids, one one-eyed terrierist, a gigantic brown moron and zero adult parents is a bad equation? My mother (I should really just start referring to her as The Saint) will be flying up from sunny Florida to care for my brood for three to seventeen days and then flying back to sunny Florida unless I kidnap her and don't let her leave. Did I say that out loud?

But I didn't even know about all that shit when I found myself sitting up in bed fighting the Bad Guys with my arms all aflail, sweating and flailing and cursing and sweating. Then my husband pushed me down and said "go back to bed" and I couldn't because my heart was beating too fast.

I started getting these stupid things when I was pregnant with my oldest. I'd jump up in bed, fighting the good-albeit-imaginary fight, and scared the crap out of my husband. Who was at the same time trying to heal from a horrible surgery to his bumside, and oh my God it just hit me why I was having night terrors! Newlywed. Newly pregnant. Husband with newly surgery affecting his bummy (I always revert to mommy talk when I'm uncomfortable). Now it all makes sense!

Anyway. They continue. They go away for a while. They come back. Just like adult acne. Yay! I've won the shit lottery.

Still, it's good to know that if I really needed to, I could go all Chuck Norris on someone's ass and give it a good kicking. Always makes me feel confident when I think of it that way.

Oh, and hey! Funny story from today's parenting chronicles. We (meaning the two anklebiters and me) have been having some funny car conversations lately. Today Griffin and Ruby went with me to pick up Cooper from his school. As we were meandering through the streets of our little town, we discussed why we can't have a cat (Dad's allergic). Which reminded Cooper of what he's allergic to.

C: "I can't have cotton candy. I'm allergic."
Me: "Huh? Ohhhh, that's right. Yes, you are allergic to cotton candy."
G: "I'm not allergic to cotton candy."
Me: "Oh. Well, you might be too. We'll have to ask Dr. Julia next time we see her."
C: "You're allergic to cotton candy, too, because we're twins."
G: "Yeah, we're twins."
C: "Mom, what are twins?"
Me: "When two babies live in a mommy's belly at the same time and come out at the same time, they're twins. You and Griffin aren't twins, you're just brothers."
C: "Oh, right. We're brothers. But you might be allergic to cotton candy, too."
G: "Yeah."

Which reminds me to be careful of my crack team of excuses on the spot of why my kids can't have ___________ [fill in the blanks]. Being allergic is very handy.

- H