MomFractured, the Two Janes, and The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, VERY Bad Day

So today was one of those days. It would take six blogs to fill what happened today that could frazzle one, but I'm assuming theLupron I'm on to send me into chemical menopause is not helping to stabalize my mood(s). In fact, I'm considering risking monsterous sized cysts again on the one ovary I have left because I have to get my mood stable, or as stable as a woman can be (hahaha a laugh for all of you men!).

Other than the fact I thought I would totally lose it right at 2:30pm, only 30 minutes after the girls had been up from nap, I feel okay. Except when I thought I would lose my ever-lovin'-mind over the things Littlest Jane in particular was doing, I had an overall peaceful feeling. But I swear, I thought daddy would never come home and he saved me from this:

Let's go through some of the things Littlest Jane did: Threw hard objects at the over-sized windows, after she pulled up the roman shades (easy pull lever, no chords); dumped all of daddy's remotes (and there's a basket full) all over the hardwood floor; threw a large and heavy nearly 40 year old doll across the room and into the wall; threw her apple across the room; slapped me in the face more than twice, took Little Jane's "mommy's hopsicle socks" (the non-skid footie socks they give you in the hospital); AND threw her toy key board across the room and into the wall. And that's just the tip of the iceburg.  Medicated or not, healthy or not, I think that's enough to send anyone over the edge.

Next time I want to send myself into a seizure, convulsing like state and get away from it all, I'll remember this:

(Now you can see MomFractured is coming back, there's her sarcastic humor!)

Here's a note: my seething rage is over, dad is home, and all is as blissful as it can be.

I think things are headed in the right direction so yes, PROZAC (not meth) just may be the answer.