I can't tell if I talk about them too much. My kids, I mean. Really, I can't - your eyes could be glazed like a donut and I would probably yammer on about them. You might have to fall into a coma, or maybe shake me sternly to get me to realize it's time to stop. Which makes this a rather awkward column, because it's my last one at least, my last one here.

I'm not a hoarder, but sometimes it's difficult to tell. Being sentimental, it's really hard for me to throw certain things away especially when it comes to my kids. I still have scribbles they did when they first started using crayons, and I don't want to chuck them.

Then they started school, and the projects started rolling home on a weekly basis. Now I'm so inundated with sentimental items I could scream. I may have screamed actually. This is not the first time I wished I was a more organized person, nor will it be the last. And no, this isn't a story about how I magically clean my house though there are times I get it to passable.

Sometimes you learn things about yourself that are disturbing. I had such a lesson during last week's vicious snow storm. It was nasty out, the roads were horrendous, accidents everywhere you looked. But when the event I had lined up babysitters for was cancelled, I was bummed.

Despite all the odds, I still wanted to be able to go out, and I was mad. Not mad at perfectly reasonable people for doing perfectly reasonable things, like cancelling a performance due to nasty weather. I was mad at the weather personified. I'm aware that the weather is not a person you should really get mad at. But that didn't stop me.

In the early times, you go through the motions of many of the holidays with the kids: it's less for the kids and more for you. As they grow, they catch on to what's going on and begin to anticipate each holiday in question. And there will come a time when you hit the sweet spot that moment when they understand what's going on and are excited without getting crazy. This was that year.
Everything about the holiday season was awesome, from picking up the Christmas tree to putting up the lights. Everything was met with gasps and coos from the kids. One of my girls would walk around the house and wish everyone in the room 'Merry Christmas!' If no one was in the room, she'd address her stuffed animals, or the Christmas tree itself.

Carol of the kids

Hark how the kids
Sweet little kids
All seem to say
Let's go out and play

Our household is a finely tuned machine. You wouldn't know by looking at it the house is a mess, and most interactions I have with people probably leave them thinking I'm a couple chocolate creams short of a box of chocolates. That doesn't negate the fact that my schedule and my husband's schedule and the kids' schedules are all interconnected like a massive and ever-changing Gordian knot.

Every two months my husband's schedule changes which means my schedule changes, at least if the kids are home. Since they started school there's always a good chance I can have a decent chunk of morning devoted to work a refreshing change, to be sure.

I love the holidays. Yeah, I'm one of those people. Pretty much from the start of Halloween until we ring in the New Year, I'm enjoying the weird, giddy mood that infuses this time of year. Look, I agree with most people that the Christmas music needs to wait until after Thanksgiving but once December is here, it's no holds barred on my belting out carols in the car, at home, at work (sorry, boss!).

Shopping has become harder with the three kids - not so much doing the shopping but finding time for it. I tend to shop for the kids in dribs and drabs all year round, and then do shopping for everyone else in my life around this time of year. Lots of preplanning.

Many people over the years have told us that we are blessed for having three kids at the same time. And it's true for all the craziness yelling, teasing, bickering and whining there is lots to be thankful for. Here's a few things.

Group hugs When I pick up the kids from school, there are raucous calls of 'Mama!' followed immediately by almost flying-tackle style hugs from the girls.

We all get into routines it's how we go through life. Kids, as countless websites will tell you, love routines. But so do adults. And when they're interrupted, it makes life complicated.

Well, my routines were interrupted by a car accident the week before last. I won't go into details other than to say everyone is more or less OK and the kids weren't in the car (hooray!). But boy, doesn't that just ruin your normal routine. Even with no major injuries, being sore and exhausted (didn't get home until the wee hours) was going to make the weekend a bit of a trial. You know who doesn't care if you're sore and tired? Three 4-year-olds.

When the time change hits you know it not so much from the surge of darkness as the surge of angry ranting on Facebook from frustrated parents. Frustrated that months of detailed scheduling and bedtime routines are flushed down the toilet by an antiquated system of time that makes sense to no one.

I rarely come out for or against anything in this column but this is it. The gloves are off. Let's pick a time and stick with it. If you want your extra hour? Keep it. If you like the extra daylight fine. Flip a coin, I don't care, but pick the one you want and stop messing with my brain. And my kids' brains.