It seems to me that March always comes in like a lion, and then like a lion, chews on me for 30 some days, then leaves me in some forgotten part of the pride land, dazed and bleeding. Can you tell we’ve been watching The Lion King around our house?

But carnivorous animals aside and months that start with “M”, it always seems like March just knocks me over. I always end up with a book due around this time of year, so March is the month of finishing a book. Don’t believe me:  Last year I was working on Confessions of a Little Black Gown,  and the year before that, Tempted by the Night. This time I am working on the book that comes out in January 2010, so there is little wiggle room for being even a whiff late.

Then there is always the other panic in March. Getting my taxes done. Every year I swear I am going to get this part of my life organized, and every year I do–in the four weeks before taxes are due. This year April 15th is a double whammy: taxes and the book due. All on the same day.

Oh, and to add to all that, there are three auctions that I have to help with in the next two weeks. Why do all the auctions have to happen in March? I have two on one night. But I’ve collected books and quilts and baseball items, and right now my office is overflowing with donations that need to go into baskets, have catalog descriptions creatively scripted, tax forms filled out, and then decorated with care and carted off to Bellevue and Burien and somewhere else–I’m not sure. Did you notice there are even taxes in all that?!

Now add into all this: trips to Wichita, Chicago, and Anaheim.Two spring breaks. Of course they couldn’t have the same week off this year, but different ones. There are also three other days were they have some nonsense called “Teacher Day.” Note to the schools: March is such a good month to have kids inside and working. Really, truly.

So then this week, I threw my back out, stepped on a piece of broken glass and had to take one of the kids to the doctor for something else, which will now require two other appointments. So after I had cleaned up my foot, made sure I had a current tetanus shot, I limped to the phone and did what every grown up woman does when March threatens to stomp her into the pride land. I called my mother. And wailed and gnashed my teeth. And complained. Much like I’ve done for most of this blog. Mom, in only my mom’s calm, reassuring fashion, helped me make sense of it all. Make a list, she said. And like Santa, start checking the things off. One at a time. An hour here, an hour there.  It can all get done. She even has me believing it. My goodness, whatever would I do without Mom?

Oh, and Mom, thanks for taking the kids the night I’m in Chicago and Terry has hockey. You are a godsend. Check that one off the list.

What do you do when life threatens to overtake you?