Under pressure

On a recent visit to the doctor, I was told that my blood pressure was a little high and that I should keep an eye on it. A week later, it was through the roof. I'm still undergoing tests to see what might be causing the increase (who wants to bet that there won't be an answer?), but I figure it's probably one of three things:

a) a serious problem where I only have two weeks to live;
b) a moderate problem, but one that can be controlled by medication, dietary changes, and lifestyle changes; or
c) not really a problem - I'm just a working mother of a two-year-old and if my blood pressure wasn't elevated, I probably would be checked for signs of rigor mortis.

This comes on one of THOSE nights...a night in which I pat myself on the back for the decision to stop at one child. A night where a glass of bourbon on the rocks isn't just pleasurable - it's necessary. A night where I am at the end of my rope and fed up with piles of laundry, toys scattered all around the house, and a child that now, 40 minutes after I put her down for bed, is still singing at the top of her lungs.

To my infant-rearing friends reading this right now...good luck. Your turn is next. MUUUUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.