Crazy Threshold

It occurred to me today that maybe my compass for Crazy is a little off-kilter these days.

Or maybe just broken altogether.

Exhibit A: 

A couple nights ago, while we were dining out, Chicklet decided to go Greek. Translation: she tossed a plate on the floor just to watch it shatter (and then let the rest of the restaurant watch us watch it shatter). And I just went--yup, that's about par for the course these days.

Exhibit B:

Also a few days ago, to calm Chicklet's massive car meltdown, I handed her a ginormous blue sucker and didn't even care that it turned her and her entire car seat (that required washing) a lovely shade of sticky Smurf. 

Exhibit C:

Also a few days ago, our master bed capsized around midnight (are we sensing an it's-been-a-funny/rough-week theme?).

Yes, you read that correctly.

Now get your mind outta the gutter. There was no hanky-panky going on.

For the record, I'd been lying down for about half an hour, and the moment my husband sat down on the bed, it caved.

Gotta say...not the greatest ego boost for a pregnant woman whose form is obviously expanding.

(Though for the record, I blame it on the hubby and the second piece of homemade strawberry cake he had for dessert. Damn Uncle Justin and his baking skills.)

Again, the bed capsized and I just laughed. And went to drag Uncle Justin downstairs to assess the damage. Normal?

For the record, we moved the mattress to the floor for the night, reinforced the supporting slats the next day, and all was good.

Exhibit D:

As if I didn't learn my lesson with the sticky Smurf sucker, today I gave my one-year-old one of those bottle suckers that have the sugar down in a separate bottom section (you know, for dipping, in case the high of just the sucker alone just isn't enough).

Of course, I assumed she wouldn't be able to unscrew it and get the sugar out.

Wrong.

So it required a strip down, a bath, a car seat dissembly and complete washing, and an at-home car detail.

Meh. What's new.

So in summary...when dumping your kid in a daytime bath three days in a row just seems normal, things might be askew. 

I think I need help.

Or maybe God is just mellowing me further for the third child.