I am just like Octomom

I am going bananas in this house. no literally... B-A-N-A-N-A-S.

Yesterday I was on the phone trying to clear a $2.10 (yes two dollars and ten cent) fine on our credit report that has been there for eight years, a fine that we've been (repeatedly) told will be removed. While I was on the phone, I wasn't paying attention to my busy toddler, who had climbed on top of the kitchen counter and gotten his grubby hands on a bunch of ripe bananas. Have you ever seen the kind of mess 8 bananas can make? Well, I wish I had pictures to show you, but it was such a disaster, I didn't want to document it. And that is saying something. Bananas were smashed all over our counter tops, bar stools, kitchen floor, carpets, rugs, couch cushions, pillows & walls. not to mention, in the fingers, toes and hairs of our little mess-maker.

To make matters worse, it happened right before dinnertime and Daddy walked through the door just as we were starting to clean it up. The good news is that Daddy walked through the door just in time to help us clean it up. It took about two hours to clean-- with five of us working (& trying to keep Simon from dumping out our buckets of soapy water.) Without going into more detail, it was the biggest mess I've had to clean as a mother... and that is saying something.

While I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the carpets, I kept thinking about a clip I saw of Octomom on Oprah. She was there with financial consultant Suze Orman who was lecturing her about having more children than she could handle. I was up to my elbows in banana-flavored goop when I realized that I am exactly like Octomom. I can't handle the children I already have, and yet... I am about to give birth to another. And the sad part is, I want more after this one. Am I a baby-addict? Is there some kind of medication you can take to keep you from making your life more chaotic than it already is? Yes, there is. It's called birth control.

The media loves to make fun of Octomom, and I can see why people think she's irresponsible and crazy. But I think, on some level, we criticize because it makes us feel better about our own pathetic decisions. We buy things we can afford, eat unhealthy foods when we're trying to lose weight, and have more children when we should stop. Which brings me to a funny story.

Last month, I was walking in the mall with my four boys. I never go to the mall, but I wanted a new maternity swimsuit and was hoping I could find something at Motherhood. After no such luck, I walked out of the store and almost ran over an old man (who wasn't watching where he was going) with my stroller. He was a grumpy old man who pointed his wrinkly finger at me and said, "Someone should have told you this long ago. You should be finished. No more kids for you." I was so shocked by what he said that I couldn't say anything.. I just stood there speechless as he stormed off. Later I laughed it off as I told my husband about the crazy old man who didn't know what he was talking about. But after yesterday, I am starting to think he has a point.