Anytime I'm going to complain about my husband, I always preface the complaint with, "I love my husband...but..."  Anyone else do that?  I was thinking about this blog post and those words just kept popping into my head.  Not because he has done anything wrong - but because he really is clueless sometimes.  (Sorry, honey...it's true and I do love you!)

I've been thinking more and more about my Happiness Project that I am planning on starting next month.  I've been reading more and more about ways to organize the house and get some of the clutter out.  There are a lot of reasons I think I would be happy with a clutter free (or at least a less cluttered) house.  The MAIN reason, though, is that my DH would be happier.  Clutter drives him crazy.  He can't stand it.  It makes him feel claustrophobic in his own home and that makes him turn into the Grumpy Old Troll - it was a Dora the Explorer kinda morning because I'm here with Danika and the twins while Nate is at school.  The thing is I LOVE MY HUSBAND but he doesn't clean the clutter.  I'll admit that a lot (okay, most) of it is mine and the kids.  However, I don't understand why I am the chief kid clutter cleaner around here.  Okay, maybe I do understand it...but I think that if DH isn't going to pitch in the the kid clutter he should at least make an effort to not be so grumpy just because I didn't get a chance to put all the toys away.

We are working on having the kids do it every night before bed.  As part of my Happiness Project, I'm planning on heading back to the ways of a FLYbaby.  Now, I LOVE MY HUSBAND but he isn't thrilled about it.  It's funny how he hates the clutter but doesn't want me to start doing FLYlady again to help clear it up.  His reasoning?  He thinks, "FLYlady is the reason you went crazy."

Yep.  He blamed my plummeting serotonin and dopamine levels on poor Marla Cilley.  He thinks that all the things I posted about in this post: I'm a little nervous but...  caused this to happen:  Come on Get Happy.  He thinks that the added stress of having a schedule pushed me over the edge.  I LOVE MY HUSBAND but it wasn't the schedule or the calendar or the meal planning or any of that.  It was the fact that I was so unmotivated and had no desire to do those things - the things that keep my life in order - that caused me to have the breakdown that caused me to call my PCP to talk about how to get out of the funk.  You know what - I'm out of the funk.  I'm ready to get things back on track.  I'm also totally aware that there will be speed bumps and detours and distractions.  I am okay if my schedule doesn't go perfectly as planned.  After all, I have 4 kids and a part time job.  It's time.

You know what it is also time for?  It's time for my freaking tail bone to start feeling better.  Although, from what I've heard, that may not happen for MONTHS!!!  The kicker - the Vicodin I was prescribed is making me REALLY nauseous.  I have no idea how people get addicted to these things - they make me feel like CRAP!  I'm sticking with ibuprofen because it seems to take the edge off enough that I'm not wincing in pain every time I move and it doesn't make me sick.  I LOVE MY HUSBAND but he just doesn't do well with me being unable to do what I normally do, so I am really hoping to feel better soon.  In a way, he reminds me of my father...which is kind of funny...but he'll say, "Oh, you are fine - just walk it off."  Ummm...okay.  He did the same thing when I was pregnant with all the kids.  He thinks if he pretends that everything is okay then I'll believe him and everything will magically be okay.  Isn't that sweet?  *yes, that was a hint of sarcasm you heard there*

Alright - enough randomness this morning.  I'm off to do a ton of things - or at least going to try to do a ton of things - before I head out to my Mommy Group this evening!  :)

Until I find time to blog again - remember I LOVE MY HUSBAND!  (Really...I do...no, I'm NOT trying to convince myself!  I know I love him!  I'm trying to convince you because I don't want you to think that just because I complain a little bit means I don't love him or that we are having problems.  Am I rambling?  I'm rambling.  Okay...off to take the pizza out of the convection oven that my grandmother gave me - for some reason the pizza fitting into the convection oven just made my day...WOW.)