Control. Issues.

I like to be in control.


Of. Every. Little. Thing.


But I can't. And I am Sloooooowwwwwwly learning to accept it.


I can't control *E* cutting her hair, including bangs, one morning before school. And then cutting it again that day at school.


I can't control the fact that my 21-month-old can open all the doorknobs in our house.


Or that same said child can undo the front clasp on her carseat.


You've heard the saying: "Don't cry over spilt milk?" Well, maybe not. But I WILL cry over all the white hair I keep finding on my head, among other places.


Ahem. {clearing throat}


C'mon! Couldn't it have waited 12 more days until I at least turn 30?


I can't control the fact that my carpet looks like a hundred muddy dogs had a party on it. Hmm.


Well, I will say it. I have control issues. They hang from me like saddle bags. They ooze out of my pores (which is another thing I can't control. Am I 16 or almost 30? Which is it body? Someday you will see a 40-something white-haired lady with acne.)


Please tell me I can have some control in the eternities :0)