Stress is formidable foe.  I thought I had it under control.  I established a routine.  I layed out clothes the previous night.  I started making lists again.  I even started working out...dusting off the Jillian Michaels DVDs and pulling out the weights.  I was feeling good...able to handle anything.  Then it happened...Owen discovered that he could climb out of the crib. 

Every child does this at some point.  It was bound to happen.  How could one little toddler throw off my entire sense of self-purpose?  I keep telling myself that it is not the toddler...it is stress.  Stress is a funny thing...it multiplies.  It turns a rational person into a raving lunatic, scouring the cabinets for chocolate and telling her children that if Mommy doesn't get some quiet-time, she will send a personal message to Santa regarding coal.  And it all starts with a toddler climbing out of his crib.

No naps equal cranky toddlers.  Cranky toddlers turn into impish creatures that wreak havoc on the household.  They pull out plugs.  They wake other sleeping toddlers.  They think the litter box is their own personal sandbox.  They rip their sister's Kids Bop CD case.  They push toys through the mail slot.  They pull ornaments off of the tree and throw them at the cat.  And they make their mother have to decide who to run after first:  the child that is trying to scale the living room shelf, or the child who is surfing on the end table. 

By the time the older kids come home, I am talking through gritted teeth and counting how many bottles of beer we have left for after bedtime.  I am glancing at the clock, counting down how many more hours are left until bedtime.  I don't quite remember getting through the evening...I vaguely remember the preschooler not making it to the potty in time, leaving puddles on the kitchen floor.  I remember the teenagers arguing...and one nearly breaking a drawer in the fridge.  I remember a cranky preschooler wailing about a hurt hand that she is positive her older brother broke. 

I end the night with a couple of glasses of wine, and baked Tostitos (so as not to ruin my healthy efforts.)  Take that, stress!  Of course, in the end, stress wins.  I wake up to realize that I have gained a pound overnight.  The kitchen is still a mess from the night before...and today Connor realized that he, too, can climb out of the crib. 

Curse you, stress.  I shall retreat to my coffee and usual rant peppered with words like "punk-ass kids" and "for the love of Pete WILL YOU STOP!!" 

But just wait until I order those crib tents online...