When the ultrasound tech declared I was having another boy, I declared myself princess! No job sharing here. I wear the tiara in this family. I'm the mother of three darling little boys. Add in my husband and dog(yes, my grumpy male dog counts) and that's a lot of testosterone. They are dirty little wrestling rascals. I let my boys be boys, but I like things pretty. What's the best defense and the only way I stay sane? Organize my heart out, decorate in spite of 2000 match box cars on the kitchen floor and when the castle gets really crazy I grab something and paint it!