Ever had "one of those days" when you just want to tear your hair out - or one of those moments when you feel like you just might "lose it" once and for all? Yeah, we know. So do we. All the time. But we take comfort in knowing that we're not alone ... so read on for some true confessions of temporary insanity - and click here to share your own.

Come on ... we know you have some beans to spill!

I'm Losing It

Victoria Can Keep Her Secrets

Who are they marketing to, anyway?

-Stephanie Elliot

The other day, I was using our bathroom and I reached into the magazine rack. Come on, who doesn't have a supply or reading material in their bathroom? Among the copies of Redbook and Writer's Digest I found the latest Victoria's Secret catalog.

I hadn't put it there, so I know it must have been my husband's "reading" material.

My husband has NEVER ordered me an item from the Victoria's Secret catalog. He has maybe ONCE purchased me a pair of underwear from the store, and it wasn't like they were very sexy panties either. Read more about Victoria's Secret...

I'm Losing It

I Hate French Pedicures

They just make you look like you need to cut your toenails

-Julie Ryan Evans

I think I was in middle school the first time I saw a French manicure. I immediately fell in love with the perfect simplicity of it, and spent beacoup babysitting dollars on do-it-yourself drugstore kits trying to have that flawless French allure at my fingertips ... literally.

But that's where these special manicures should stay - on fingertips, NOT on toes. Over the years I've seen more and more women trying to extend this fashion into pedicures. Every time I see one I shudder ... and I'm shuddering a lot these days in Florida where I'm exposed to toes year round.

See, the French manicure works because it's OK, glamorous even, to have longish nails (not too long please-that's a whole other post). And French manicures can give the illusion of length. But your TOENAILS ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE LONG. Long toenails are just ... gross, unsanitary, unsightly. SO WHY WOULD YOU TRY TO MAKE THEM LOOK LONG?

Please, say au revoir to French pedicures!

I'm Losing It

The New Adventures of an Old Gym Predator

My 20-something manicurist gets hit on by the same guy who hit on me - yuck!

-Mary Beth Sammons

In the suburban world in which I live as a single mom of three kids, finding nice, eligible, normal guys to date - or to even think about dating - is a lot like the proverbial needle in the haystack. In real life, there are supposed to be equal numbers of suddenly single princes as suddenly single princesses (i.e., divorced dads for divorced moms). Supposed to be is the key phrase here.

I'll confess that every once in a while, I crave the fairy tale ending. I'll be dashing into Whole Foods to pick up dinner for my kids, and a dashing, available, emotionally balanced and healed-from-his-divorce dad will fall head-over-heels in love with me, and all will be well.

But, trust me, these men are hiding somewhere. On the occasion that an available single man crosses my path, the PT (pathetic thing) borderline-creepy signal goes off. I can't tell you how many times I've thought, Wow, some woman is really lucky to be over with this.

So it was with much delight last year when who should cross my path on my morning exercise routine but a handsome, recently divorced dad of two with the looks of a Gerard Butler. You know, those dreamy blue eyes and charming smile that melt you. And what was even more delightful was when he started waiting for me at the exit after class. Then, he asked me if I'd be interested in training with him for a triathlon. (It was no problem that I neither swam nor ran at the time.) "Yes, yes," I responded. Training became dates, and it seemed too good to be true. It was. Read more about the gym predator...

I'm Losing It

I Hate Winter

There's no pleasure in "layering up" when cold weather arrives

-Stephanie Elliot

I've avoided it for as long as I could, but the day has finally come. I trudged to the basement this morning and retrieved the gloves, hats, scarves and coats tucked away from last year.

It's officially cold-weather season.

I loathe it. I grew up in Florida, so I will always be a warm-weather girl at heart, and while I like the idea of the seasons changing, I could very much live without December, January and February up here in Chicago. I avoid close-toed shoes as much as possible, and I even wore flip-flops outside last week, much to the shock of friends. At the bus stop, the other moms laugh at me, shrug their shoulders and ask, "Where is your coat!?"

I just can't bring myself to go there when it finally becomes time to go there. To layer up, cozying on into the warmth of being inside all winter. Because when I do, I end up hibernating worse than a mama bear suffering a case of postpartum depression and seasonal affective disorder. That's me in the middle of winter. Read more on cold weather blues...

I'm Losing It

Death By Grammar

The smartest people in the world can't even speak their own language?

-Megan Southwick

For more than eight years now, I've listened to our president continually ABUSE the English language, which, as an English major and editor, strikes the deepest blow into my heart. No, really! I think a little piece of it dies every time someone says, "Where are you going to be at?" or writes, "Their going to use you're money to buy it."

It's murder by grammar, my friends.

Imagine my shock upon first hearing the soon-to-be leader of the free world unable to speak his own language! And boy, did he EVER abuse that language.

Ain't ain't a word and neither is nucular.

Eventually I got used to the constant misuse. And when the current candidates started on the trail, I became hopeful. Both seemed very well spoken, seemed to have a decent grasp on their own language.

And then they brought Sarah Palin into the picture, and I was a little excited, even though I don't want her to be VP. Here was an opportunity to show the world how incredibly smart and well-spoken women can be. After all, we are supposed to be the more communicative sex.

And then, she dropped the bomb: Nucular.

I've had it! Can't someone teach these people to speak? Give them a cheat sheet! Quarterbacks have them! They have whole TEAMS at their disposal. TEACH THEM TO SPEAK THEIR LANGUAGE!