This is the first in my series of I Am Overwhelmed Guest Posts. I sent up my distress signal and my super hot (not relevant) blogger friends answered the call.
This post is from Paige Kellerman who’s so dry she makes the Sahara look wet.
Who Needs Worldly Possessions?
People often ask me, “Paige, what’s your favorite part of having kids?”
And I’ll quickly smooth my three-day-old t-shirt, and reply, “Definitely having all of our worldly possessions destroyed, piece by piece.”
Then they look at me and say, “That’s your favorite part?”
And I say, “Oh, no… I’m sorry. That’s actually my ninety-seventh favorite part.”
And then they say, “Then why’d you say that, Paige?”
And then I say, “I’m sorry. I always give my ninety-seventh favorite of any category. Used to drive my parents crazy. Like…
“Paige, what do you want for Christmas?”
“I dunno. Probably poster board. It’s my ninety-seventh favorite of all things used for recreation. Merry Christmas and don’t forget I’m also a huge fan of twine!”
Sometimes the twins can break so many things in one day it’s almost impressive. I say “almost” because it’s not at all impressive. Putting a hole in a wall is not impressive. No one likes a hole in her wall. But our clear disdain for having our stuff destroyed doesn’t stop them. Therefore, Husband and I have learned to cope.
For example, let’s pretend people ever visit us. I’m not sure what that’s like, but I know that if they asked why our lamp doesn’t work and what it’s doing in two pieces, I’d tell them what I always tell myself: no one really needs light and floor lamps are for the upper class.
Actually, I spend about twenty-two percent of my time opening the front door, sticking my head out, and shouting, “Lamps are so bourgeois, Jim. Now, stop implying things and get the hell off my lawn!”
I only tell Husband about things that broke after he gets home from work, because who wants to come home if everything’s broken? It’s best to trick your man into coming back. When he does, I’m fairly skilled at letting him down easy.
“Hey Honey, how was your day.”
“The kids took all the stuffing out of the couch.”
“They what?”
“It’s ok. I hear the Japanese sit on the floor all the time anyway.”
or
“How was your day?”
“The kids ripped the blinds off the windows.”
“What? How?”
“Don’t worry. Blinds just encourage intimacy. This way we won’t give the neighbors anything to look at anymore.
or
“Hey Honey. How was your day?”
“The kids wrecked the car.”
“What? How’d they get in the car?”
“Maybe you let them in there.”
At this point, the death toll stands at a grand total of:
- 2 lamps
- 3 candles
- 1 couch cushion (helped by the dog, so only half a point)
- 7 kitchen cabinets, crayoned
- 1 fitted sheet
- 2 baskets
- 1 plate
- 1 bowl
- 1 wall
- 2 dresses
- numerous shirts
- 1 fake house plant
- and my ever-waning psyche.
But whenever I want to feel better, I just go here. Then I realize they’ve only just begun…

Paige Kellerman is a writer/humorist who’s hypochondria is exceeded only by her ability to change diapers. Part sinner, part saint, part gin enthusiast, she spends her days herding three kids under three and trying to call everyone by the right name. You can find her hiding out on her blog, There’s More Where That Came From, or crafting profoundly confusing one-liners on Facebook and Twitter.