When It Rains, It Pours (or something like that)

So...I'm much too stressed to linger on any one incident of the last 2 weeks, but I'll try to sum it up.
10 days ago: the dog attacked me (stupid fucking dog). I'm over the limp, but not over the homicidal feelings.
4 days ago: Edie throws a toothpick holder for no appearant reason, (it was glass) it bounces off my head only after causing a laceration accompanied by the largest goose-egg in history. Every soccer mom in town is now whispering behind my back about how my husband is probably beating the hell out of me. (Don't ask how she climbed onto the kitchen table to obtain the weapon in question.)
Today: Ciera throws a rock at Avery because "she was bothering me", and needless to say, I spent an hour in the minor emergency center acquiring 3 metal staples in the head of my beatiful middle child.
In the interim, my ex husband disgusts me. My husband drives me nuts. My sisters are the whiniest bitches to walk the Earth. My mother is freakin' certifiable. I'm having sex dreams about Jimmy Kimmell (really good ones). I'm trying to come off the Zoloft. Need I go on? I desperately need a girl's night out but men are all too fucking whiny to allow that. Help me, Jill. Before I'm sleeping in the spare room with Harley Jessica. Help me.