Intrepid and Geekster are back from the hospital. My brave boy is doing much better now that he's back here and king of the playroom couch for the next little while. He's bright-eyed, talkative and down to Children's Tyl3n0l for pain. Considering they only removed the wonderful morphine button yesterday, I must give the kid some kudos.

I've cried every day this week at least once, and today has been no exception. I can't really pinpoint what I'm crying about; I mean, Intrepid's fine other than having rods and pins in his leg. He's in pain, but only when his awful mother drops a crutch on his leg (I really thought he had a hold of it. Really!) Gutsy's been great except for the couple of tantrums thrown in the Old People Mall two days ago (around a bunch of - you guessed it - old people) because I wouldn't buy him things that he wanted. He also hit me with a PS2 game before whacking a bunch of them on the shelf and knocking them all over when I demanded he put it back.

Sweet. I only hope that I made at least one fertility-challenged bystander feel slightly more comfortable in their own skin for a few minutes. The childless thing does have a few benefits and I'll gladly show them off, albeit indirectly. It's about the only positive thing I could come up with in that situation.

Spawnling was excellent up until yesterday. I do believe he's growing more fangs. He's eating fewer solids, nursing more and showing off his fiery screech and forked tongue as he wails every time I put him down. My only reprieve? Intrepid. The boy can really make a baby gremlin giggle. Thank goodness for that.

Single moms deserve a hot pool boy and a bed full of rose petals and cash. I don't know how they do it. By day four of the Great Hospital Getaway I was dragging my ass around the park in a pitiful attempt to look energetic. I went to bed a couple of hours earlier than usual, woke up and was still pretty darn tired. And lonely. Very lonely.

A wee bit depressed, maybe? Could one even get depressed over such a thing? Sure, my ten-year-old broke his leg three hours away from me and required surgery and a hospital stay. But you hear about stuff like this all the time. I'm not the first parent to have a hurt child. I'm not the first to feel overwhelmed as I run back and forth between being there for him and being there for the younger ones. I'm not the first to miss my husband and adult conversation in general.

I've told myself these things over and over and have tried to look on the positive side: he didn't break his neck, back or head. He had his dad there with him the entire time. He's been very brave and is recovering well. You'd think I could just get over it.

I'm contemplating, you know, talking to someone. Like a professional someone. Not just because of this, but because I've been feeling a little craptastic for a while now. Not down in the dumps depressed, but overwhelmed and yet underwhelmed at the same time. Stretched to my limit, but also feeling useless in my day to day drudgery.

I'm the damn Maven and I can feel any damn way I want, thank you.

I'm overwhelmed with the constant flow of responsibility, yet underwhelmed by the mundane nature of what I do. It doesn't take a brain surgeon to change diapers or do dishes or walk to the park. It takes patience and dedication. I have those. Well, after coffee, anyway. However, it can be rather... um... dull?

Sounds awful, I know. I love my kids and I generally love what I do. But I don't love having not had a haircut in 10 months, or having a spa certificate near its expiry because I haven't had the time to sneak off for three hours.

People are always complaining to me that they don't get enough help with their kids, and yet I haven't had a date with my husband since Spawnling's birth because we can't find someone to watch all three of them (which I'm sure has nothing to do with me referring to them as 'the gremlins' on a regular basis). I don't know a single person who has as little personal or couple time as we have going on here. Not a single one.

Do I win a prize? The prize for losership?

Anyway, I'd love to continue this whine, but it appears the Powers That Be have decided I need a reminder of how mundane = stable which = good. Not satisfied with simply having my child fall out of a tree, my youngest one - you know, the one who's been crying all day? - is now awake with a fever. At 12:30AM.

You bet the coffee will be a brewin' tomorrow morning.