Have you ever had your heart ripped out of your chest, thrown to the floor, then watched as it was stomped on, then a dog comes by and pees on it and another dog comes by and chews it up like rawhide?

That’s what it feels like when you have your first crush and that crush isn’t exactly crushing on you. Not that I would know.

Okay, I know exactly. I liked the same boy from the third grade all the way through junior high. Yes, I know it was a long time to be stuck on the same boy and yes, I know that saying “junior high” makes me sound ancient. That’s because I am.

Let’s be honest. I was not Blair from The Facts of Life. I wore glasses and had short hair, which was permed so I could look just like Annie. You should have heard me during my piano practice when I would belt out show-tunes. I know that all of this makes me sound homely. That’s because I was.

Let me give you some words of wisdom; just because you know all the words to Tomorrow, doesn’t mean the sun will come out. I will never forget lying on my bed, burying my face in my pillow and crying huge tears. The 10 year old boy I liked didn’t like me back! Oh, the pain of it all. The horror! Boys are stupid!

You think the throbbing in your chest means your lungs will close and your heart will cease its beating and no one seems to understand. Your mom wants you to set the dinner table when the world is getting ready to stop. How can she expect you to eat when your throat is closing up?

But, as any good mother would, my mom had a secret weapon. She could always stop my tears by pulling out the big guns. Mini-cheesecake.

Lately I’ve been hoping I don’t have to make mini-cheesecake anytime soon. My 11 year old daughter is at just about the same age I was when the hurt started really hurting. I know that crush isn’t too far away.

Lucky for her, she doesn’t look a thing like Annie.

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My eyes are burning. My cheeks stained with tears of exhaustion. I can’t remember the last time I got a good night’s sleep. I have to wait for our new insurance to kick in before I can talk to my doctor about my insomnia. Again.

My legs are cramped from standing on a hard floor for the past five hours, my hands are dry and cracked. My heart, heavy. I worry about my kids, my husband, our health, our finances, my parents.

Looking around the house makes me anxious. There are dishes, laundry, dog hair. Piles of papers, kids’ projects, things needing my signature or my response, volunteer work, writing assignments, insurance nightmares. I feel buried.

I need to work on math with my son. I need to take my daughter to practice. I need to find babysitters for upcoming events. I need to buy birthday presents, a sweater for my daughter’s choir performance and I need to send in her camp forms. I have to find a new therapist for my son. I need to change the sheets.

I want to set up piano lessons and swim lessons. I want to take the kids out to play catch. I have to call the pediatrician’s office. Maybe I can get to that after I start making dinner.

I need a minute. I collapse on the couch and let out a sigh. My head flops back against the olive-green chenille. I close my eyes and rub my forehead. I have had a headache for three days.

I rest my hand on my thigh and feel my young son’s fingers grab mine. He reaches up and brushes my hair from my cheeks. He tells me I am “so, so, so, so pretty”.

I muster half a smile and say, “I love you, buddy.”

He says, “I love you too.”

Then he hugs me.

And just like that, the dread is gone.

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1. If you work in a school kitchen and introduce your seven year old son to some of the delivery people, you may find him telling the milkman all about his lactose intolerance.

2. When your husband quits his job and the next day he tears his calf muscle and needs an MRI and a walking boot and physical therapy, then two weeks later your son gets an ear infection, and a few days after that you get a sinus infection that requires five antibiotic pills that cost $178.00, you may find out that your husband’s former employer didn’t give him any grace period and instead canceled his health insurance the DAY HE LEFT.

3. And you may find yourself wanting to tell everyone you know what a horrible, greedy, downright nasty company for which your husband used to work.

4. Then you may consider using your blog for evil purposes.

5. Twitter and Facebook too.

6. If you spend months considering whether or not to have your hair shortened, and you finally muster the guts to have five inches cut off, it’s possible no one will notice.

7. Except for your husband.

8. And he knew you were going to get your hair cut.

9. If your family gets Super Mario Bros. for the Wii, you may find it brings about some extra-special, family bonding time.

10. Or, maybe everyone will just yell at each other a lot.

11. The DVR is the best invention ever, especially when you’re using it to fast forward through American Idol.

12. But, then you might get spoiled and think you can fast forward through your laundry.

13. And then you will be sorely disappointed.

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This is me from the April issue of Ladies Home Journal magazine. That’s right, I’m officially published.

Sure it’s only 150 words, and it’s pretty much the last page in the magazine, and in this picture I look like I’m straining under the weight of 25 pounds of meat, because I AM, and the roast on top kept rolling around, and all that balancing and lifting made me look like I need a laxative, and they edited out the burners on my stove, but not my flabby arms, and I look as pale as Eddie Munster, and people at work didn’t even recognize me because I wasn’t wearing my glasses. But, it’s Ladies Home Journal, people!

And, at the very least, my kitchen was really clean for about 20 minutes.

If you want to pick up a copy, it’s the one with Brooke Shields on the front. Which is kind of awesome, because now Brooke and I are like this. I gave her tips on posing.

Why was I in the magazine? Why was my kitchen clean for once? The back story is here. And, when you’re done reading that, go read these.

Being Michael’s Daddy, Suburban Scrawl, World of Weasels, A Look on the Random Side, Code Monkey Daddy, Double the Fun, Real Men Drive Minivans, Beautiful Wreck, Half Past Kissin’ Time, D is for Dad, Nuclear Family Warhead, Joeprah, Big Bad Daddy Rant, Dear Mr. Man, The Busy Dad Blog, Get Off the Ground, The Devoted Dad, Knee Deep in Kids and Surprised Mom.

Because if not for them, I wouldn’t have been juggling that roast.

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