Laugh or cry?

So the past couple days (okay really weeks) have been pretty tense at our house. Each day something new comes up regarding the purchase of our Houston home -- and it seems that each problem needs to be dealt with ASAP. I've been feeling overwhelmed with all the house junk in addition to being a mom of three and all the chaos that goes along with that.  Perfect example: Tonight I am in the middle of trying to put together homemade chicken noodle soup (I've been cleaning out my freezer due to the move and had to use up a whole fryer chicken I've had in there) when Tony calls needing info for the lenders. Blake is screaming at my feet for attention and I can hear WWIII erupting upstairs. Unfortunately this happens way too often! I know Tony must be stressed because he is trying to figure out our loan stuff all the while trying to finish one job/company/career just to start a completely new job/company/career. 

Well, earlier tonight we had both had it with our kids, house stuff and everything. After putting the kids to bed Tony joined me in the office to try to 'translate' some of the stupid paperwork the lenders were asking for. While there, Aliya yelled out she needed to go potty (it happens each night). So I yelled back that she could go and to call me when she was done. I swear 10 minutes later she hollers out and I go upstairs to find her bawling. At first I figured it was because I had forgotten about her and she'd been calling for a while (that happens around here more than I care to admit) but nope! Little tyke had been playing with a tiny pink car (only about 2 inches) that 'SOMEHOW' fell into the toilet (of course AFTER she had already gone potty).  SuperMom to the rescue -- I fished that sucker out with a couple wooden skewers and firmly admonished her that toys do not belong anywhere near the toilet and she couldn't play with it until after I ran it through a cycle in the dishwasher (what else do you do?). That crisis was averted with no real frustration, just a little revulsion.

We finished finding the stuff needed for the house and were just settling down to watch some TV when I hear Tae yelling to me that she needs me. I come up stairs to find that she had had an accident -- IN MY BED! Yep, huge pee accident right in the middle of MY bed. [Two side notes: one, Tae and Blakers share a room and he goes down so much better if she is not in the room and two, Tae was essentially night dry from the first day of being potty trained. We can only remember her wetting the bed once and that was because someone didn't believe her when she said she needed to go potty after she was already in bed. Why at the age of almost 7 she decides to unload Niagara Falls in MY bed I'll never know.] 

Tony was a huge help. He got her in the shower and was reassuring her that its not that big of a deal. I began to strip the sheets off the bed and started to die laughing. Thank heavens that was my response. I don't know if I am just really tired, overwhelmed or what but luckily rather than snapping and getting angry, I thought it was hilarious to realize that here I am 32 years old and sleeping in a bed that just got pee'd in. I also kept giggling when I realized the only other set of sheets I had was flannel. So I am currently laying in my bed, in flannel sheets in the middle of Phoenix in June. Yep! 

I know many of you wont find this funny but thank heavens I did. Rather than going to bed upset, frustrated or overwhelmed, I am going to bed giggling that there is a puddle under the towel in the middle of our bed -- hey, I guess its one good way to keep Tony on his side of the bed!