Yesterday, I spent – stay with me, now – 6 hours in my OB/GYN’s office waiting for my appointment. That’s bad even by Montreal standards. When I finally saw Dr. M. and he put all my irrational third-trimester fears to rest, I remembered why I put up with the ridiculousness surrounding the rest of his practice. He’s the best doctor I’ve ever had and I may even be a little bit in love with him (Sorry, Dan – at least you’re hearing it from me first.) So I thought yesterday was bad.

But this morning, Asher woke up at 6, and so did the rest of us. (The kids are sleeping on the floor in our room sharing a single mattress right now while we wait for the painters to finish their new room downstairs.) When we stuck him on the toilet, he had tantrum # 1, insisting he’d already peed even though his diaper was dry. Tantrum #2 came when I suggested he finish his Cheerios or else. Tantrum #3 was the most delightful of all – the public ones always are – and occurred when I dropped him off at school. For the first time since he started earlier this month, he balked at the door. By the time we got inside, he was flailing about like the kid from The Exorcist.

Because his reasoning was not sound – that he wanted to go to Abby’s school instead, that he forgot his "byue dragon" at home, that he simply doesn’t "yike" it anymore — I indulged him for 10 minutes, then picked him up off the floor and handed him off to a teacher.

Dan’s tantrum was just as ugly. Though the painter guys assured us we were looking at a one-and-a half-day job, we are heading into Day 5 – not a good thing since we have another project scheduled to start tomorrow. Worse still, they called to say they’re not coming today. That means either Dan has to finish the job himself this weekend (and squeeze in 20-30 hours of work, too) or we simply continue to endure the "sleepover party" with the kids and hope they survive the obstacle course of ladders and dropcloths that is our home right now.

Have you seen the movie Falling Down? It’s a psychological foray into the mind of the proverbial man in the gray flannel suit, wherein Michael Douglas and his horn-rimmed glasses are pushed over the edge by a gnarly traffic jam and then basically go ape-sh*t on former employers, store clerks and various passers-by. That’s sort of like what my beloved sounded like on the phone just now – Michael Douglas as he was in the process of snapping. You see, Dan’s under a lot of pressure at work and home these days.

If I lived on a higher floor, I swear I’d defenestrate myself right now...