On Wednesday I got in the car, started the engine, and screamed at the radio to SHUT THE FUCK UP as I literally swatted at the power knob.

I know, right? Rage much?

And yes, is the answer. I have been raging. Much.

I don’t know if it’s the blowing snow and frigid temperatures in April. I don’t know if it’s the fact that my 19-month-old is having “sleep regression” and suddenly hates his crib and screams bloody murder when we even glance in its direction. I don’t know if it’s the fact that my 5-year-old keeps bringing every bacterium known to modern science home from junior kindergarten in the form of fever/rash/snots/ear infections/more snots/bellyache/diarrhea/vomiting in some adorable combination.

[In the wee hours (think 3am) of Easter morning I knowingly and helplessly sat on a Reese peanut butter egg the Easter Bunny had rebelled against the EEHHSCSP (Easter Egg Hunt Health and Safety Common Sense) code and hid on the bathroom step-stool. I’d chosen that particular perch as I was stabilizing my limp five-year-old on the toilet with one arm (his head on my shoulder) and holding the garbage bucket up to his face with the other. It was an explosive Easter, this one. Gray-faced and exhausted, we rallied and managed to complete the egg hunt.]

Quite likely it’s all of these things.

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So how do I stay so fresh-faced, fun and fabulous despite the rage, I ask? It’s easy. I follow these three simple steps from virtually-unknown-but-rife-with-wit-masked-narcissism blogger, Heather something:

  1. Sing classic love ballads you don’t know the words to to really attractive people. Really emphasize how unfamiliar you are with the lyrics by making your lips quiver continuously likely a badly dubbed-over foreign film. Whatever you do, and no matter how uncomfortable the really attractive person appears to be by the situation, do not break character. Do not be less weird. That’s what society wants. And, as my great aunt always said, “fuck dat noise”.

Ok so that is the list. I changed my mind. It’s a list of one.

This is what happens when you make a plan for a blog post first, and improvise the actual videos afterwards. The first one ends up being so perfect, it must stand alone.

It has everything I need to shake off the sleep-deprived rage juice I’ve been bathing in for five years. J is truly hammering home on those chips like they owe him money. That loud bang at 32 seconds in? That’s just my knee on the edge of the (toddler appropriate) glass coffee table. And, finally, the mystery shoulder crumb to end all mystery shoulder crumbs.

Fellow rage-swallowers, I urge you: subscribe to this list. This list of one. For the low, low cost of only $42 dollars, you too can own this bag (with spout) of Shiraz on my counter, and create a video recording no one should be proud of… but one that no one can stay angry through. *I touch my nose, point at your nose, back and forth, over and over, knowingly….does this thing have a name?*

You’re welcome. Peace be with you.

Your, HOAR