The Baker Act

I've been contemplating a blog for awhile now, but have come up with a lot of excuses.  With our "big move"  I am even more motivated to find a way to stay connected with friends and family without posting my entire life on facebook.  So here it is:  The Baker Act.  

One of my most frequent excuses to myself was that I couldn't think of a catchy name like every other blogger.  I tried numerous combinations of 'cute' phrases that contained 'Baker'.  I wanted to project a 'cute' persona, post cute pictures, talk about cute things.  Well... My life isn't always cute. 

I am blessed BEYOND measure, but approximately 25% of the time (on a good day), I am on the verge of losing my marbles.  People say to me, "You seem so relaxed" HA HA HA!  I guess I do a good job of faking it.  Some days, I would love to just run away and hide.  Check myself into a hotel, order room service with a bottle of wine, pass out, and stay in bed the whole next day.  That's where I came up with The Baker Act.  

I learned of this amazing law when I was in OT school at UF.  I remember it well, probably due to the fact that my studly boyfriend's (at the time, now super studly husband) last name was Baker.  Back to the law... It's  a Florida law that allows mentally ill people to be committed to a mental health facility for 72 hours, against the will of the mentally ill person.  

I'm insane, commit me, please!  PLEASE!

I absolutely love my life.  But some days, I would happily (and very willingly) be committed.  Up to 72 hours of no laundry, no dishes, no whining, no screaming, no pulling at my clothes, no messes, no rushing, no demands.  Seventy-two hours of quiet, solo bathroom breaks, eating an entire meal without interruption, time to simply think, or sleep, or do nothing.  Doesn't matter where I am, that sounds like a dream! 

BUT... I guarantee after two minutes of being 'committed' I would be in tears.  Missing the chaos, the demands of my truly amazing little family.  

There it is, and here I go! 

Disclaimer: English was always my least favorite subject.  I am a terrible speller, pretty bad with grammar, and very insecure with anything to do with writing.   If you read this or anything else I write, I'm sorry.