We've got a rather special occasion coming up soon, and, well, I…I hate to spoil it by just yelling it up front and all, but let's just say that a little someone in my house is about to have a lot of people over, and we have to do some things to get ready for these people.

That's right, folks: my carpet has a date. With the steam cleaner. It will get hot and heavy, I can guarantee it.

I really, really hate having my carpets cleaned. It seems like it takes hours for them to dry; we have to put the furniture up on blocks for a day or two because apparently, my couch needs an oil change, and while you're under there, can you rotate the tires too, please? Thanks. But the carpets, they need it badly; between the two cats that have no other purpose in life than to shed and hork up hairballs on my carpet and the three year old that doesn't understand why mommy needs the juice to stay in the kitchen, the carpets are a mess. The steam cleaner guys come out, work their magic, and ta-da! I have beige carpets again instead of, uh, grey? Whatever color they are now.

Sarah turns a year old at the first of June, and we're going to throw a party, but that also means that we've got to get some things done around the house. Like getting new patio furniture (and by new, I mean ANY patio furniture). And one of those tent/gazeebo things to shade us from the volcano we call The Sun here in Texas. And artwork to match the recently changed up living room. All of this adds up to Mike having to do things, and while he's generally happy to hang, assemble, and clean, I have a feeling that I'm getting on his nerves when I'm looking at YET ANOTHER lawn furniture set. He would like me to MAKE UP MY MIND already and also, just freakin' get stuff done instead of talking about it OVER and OVER and OVER. What can I say? I like the planning just as much as the actual doing. I'm weird like that. But he's getting geeky things out of it, like speakers mounted to the outside of the house and speaker plates inside. And it's forcing me to de-packrat a bit, so he can't complain TOO much.

Speaking of, I need to order a cake. Gak!

I'm lucky. Seriously. In real life, I complain a lot about blah blah blah everything, but when I stop to think about it, I realize that I've got it pretty damn easy.  So for Mother's Day, the only thing I wanted was to get a few trees planted in the back yard. What I got was a day of shopping all by myself while my husband watched the rugrats, which I think is a much better idea than some stupid old trees. Although I still want those trees planted.

It was fantastic. I had three entire hours where I wasn't changing diapers, or getting someone juice, or responding to demands for a movie. I didn't have to hold, or bounce, or feed, or drag anything out of anyone's mouth. No one pooped and required a wipe. No one sneezed and needed snot cleaned off of their face. I walked from store to store in our outdoor outlet mall, looking at things that had nothing to do with anyone but me. Shoes, purses, clothes, jewelry…whatever I wanted. I even stopped by Starbucks and got an Iced Tea Lemonade, which I didn't have to share.

But then, I realized how late it was getting, so I got in the car and drove home, where the shiny faces of my kids were waiting for me. They missed me. They aren't used to having their father watch them alone, and when I sat down in the floor to say hi to them, they both dog piled me. And I realized that while I sometimes really need some time to myself, I always look forward to coming home and seeing them. They love me, and they only drive me crazy because they love me. Folks tell me that before too long, Bryan will think I'm NOT COOL and Sarah will be asking me to drop her off a block from the school so that her friends don't see her mom actually driving her. They are only small for so long (Sarah's first birthday is in THREE WEEKS), and I'm trying to soak it up while I can.

My only request – STOP PRYING MY EYELIDS OPEN when you want me to wake up, Mr. It's Time To Get Up Because I Damn Well Say So.

Today, my daughter turned ten months old.

They are totally, absolutely, unquestionably worth it.