So it’s been two days since I’ve cleaned up a pile of puke… Two whole days! I’m actually rather excited about that, kind of feels like Christmas in an odd sort of disgusting way. Of course, as my luck would have it, I’ve probably totally just jinxed myself in a major way- much like that time that I laughed at that friend for getting knocked-up so quickly after having her last baby… Only to find myself pissing on plastic stick myself a week later.

And yes, I know the meaning of the word ‘karma’. Just as I know the meaning of the word ‘bitch’. I also can write-up an extensive list of applications for both.

Anyhow, instead of regaling you all with a vomit-fueled post detailing all of the most memorable moments of the past couple of weeks spent waist-deep in the trenches of HELL; I’d thought I’d simply share with you a few of the impressively random odd thoughts that have flitted through my mind.

We’ll call it the “Butterflies on Crack” list… Because I’m pretty sure that they flit as well.

Always keep foods that tastes equally good coming up as well as going down in stock. If one must vomit, one should always vomit chocolate ice cream. Orange sherbet isn’t so bad either (although it does burn the nose a bit).

When I finally have enough and run over my husband with my car, I’m pleading insanity due to the unavoidable stress brought on by his never-ending insistence on buying grape juice for toddlers. GRAPE JUICE FOR TODDLERS. What parent in their right mind buys GRAPE JUICE FOR TODDLERS?

Starbucks is trying to kill me. And I’m okay with that.

Starbucks is trying to kill me. Yes, I just said that… but I thought it several times during the week. Matter of fact, I’m thinking it right now as I type with one hand and pop a chocolate espresso truffle in my mouth.

One day I shall write a novel about a forgotten load of laundry in the washer that suddenly comes to life to walk the Earth in search of sacrificial children. It will be auto-biographical.

One day I follow-up the above novel with a story about how,a couple of years ago, pouring half a bottle of detergent into the washer would have been enough to vanquish the beast ; but now, thanks to the nifty “fifty times more concentrated” theme flowing through the household cleaning industry, it only serves to make for a very messy floor… and soapy children.

I just used both ‘nify’ and ‘fifty’ in that last sentence. And that makes me happy.

Okay… which one of you sadists painted the bulls-eye on my chest? Because I’m seriously tired of little people yakking down my shirt.

Bribery = Happy Mom. I’ll give you $100 to puke on your dad this time. Okay, fine, I’ll give you $10 and a new Power Ranger. Here, have some spaghetti.

Dust will not kill you. But it’ll drive you INSANE.

No, I do not want to have sex. Although I can see how that green tinge about my face is appealing…

“I’d rather be shopping.” is officially the understatement of the year.

Rapacious is a great word, I’ll give you that. But I really think that using it five times per page is a bit excessive even in a romance novel, don’t you?

Watching Super Nanny makes me appreciate my children more. Watching Wife Swap makes them appreciate me more. Watching Extreme Makeover: The Home Edition makes me want to cut off Peter’s leg then make him cry for the camera.

It’s definitely possible to sleep with five people in a full-sized bed. Although I wouldn’t recommend it.

It’s definitely possible to walk around with three children and a husband all up your ass. Although I wouldn’t recommend that either.

Oh! And Starbucks is trying to kill me. And, yep, I’m still okay with that.

***Now… if the above list wasn’t quite “enlightening” enough for you, feel free to ask me a question- ANY QUESTION- in the little “Ask Judith” box in my FAQ section. You just may learn things about me that you could have gone your whole life without. I’m too broke to blackmail, but it may be interesting nonetheless.