I've come to terms with the fact that:

I'm raising Lucifer, Medusa, and Brittany Spears.

My children are mostly ungrateful.

Someday they will appreciate my efforts in keeping them fed, clothed, and alive.

My home will never be as clean as i think it should be.

I never have enough money.

My family eats too much.

My husband will always have something to bitch about.

I will never use the bathroom alone again.

Hair conditioner is a necessity in my home.

My husbands hobbies cost too much money.

I will have to work forever to stay at a healthy weight.

Rarely, i get uninterrupted sleep.

I simply pee too much.

There's never enough time to see all the Dr. Specialist I need to see. (I.e. Gyno)

My children always come first.

My grandchildren, (Pray-tell they be nicer than my children) will probably come first too.

My make-up is never quite right.

My chop-shop nail guy will never ask me something in complete English.

My box of 500 business cards are basically for show only.

My son may grow up to be an inmate.

My Chihuahua /min-pin dog will never be fully potty trained.

It's ok to toss his ass outside in the cold until he shits someplace other than my rug.

When someone dies, at least in a big family, the claws come out.

There will always be an asshole in front of me that slams on the brakes when the light turns yellow.

Most VP's at banks play golf on Friday's, hence their service fees.

and finally, I've come to terms with the fact that no matter how sweet i am to strangers, how thoughtful i am to the people around me, how many times i bite my tongue and refrain from calling someone an idiot, that the gods of fate still allow my mother in law to breathe.

Jeze heather, that was ugly. OK Fine, I just wish she would have mouth surgury so she couldnt talk. For a fucking month.