The things you do for love ...

Motherhood makes you do things that any normal, rational person would consider crazy.  Like...

*Willingly gaining weight (lots of it) and being sick, uncomfortable and miserable for 9 months of pregnancy

*Doing the above repeatedly, even after you know what you are signing up for

*Signing up for years of extreme sleep-deprivation -- very similar to what the Chinese use as a form of torturing political prisoners

*Listening to Weejoice and the Wiggles in the car instead of U2.

*Sitting through movies like "Alvin and the Chipmunks." 

*Letting your 4-year-old daughter do your makeup

*Pretending to laugh at knock-knock jokes made up by a car full of kindergarten boys (They all have the same punch line:  "poop!")

*Taking trips to Disneyworld instead of Cabo (or any place exotic, for that matter!)

I'm sure I could go on for days with other examples.  But I don't think too many of them can top my current display of foolishness:

*Taking in a tarantula as a houseguest.

Right now, I willingly have a tarantula living in my kitchen.  His name is Terry, and he belongs to Charlie's class at school.  We have adopted him for April recess.  I've been assured that he **probably** isn't poisonous. Probably.  And I am feeding him live crickets.  Which means I am caring for and nurturing said tarantula.  What is wrong with this picture? 

Of course, the kids are infatuated with him.  They have totally broken the "no touching the glass" rule posted on Terry's cage.  The poor tarantula is probably traumatized by his new host family.  

Charlie is trying to convince me to let him set up Terry's cage in his bedroom.  Yeah, right.  I might be crazy, but I'm not stupid.  I'm sure I'm not the only one out there who has strong memories of Bobby Brady waking up with a tarantula on his face during the Brady Bunch's trip to Hawaii.