Today, I was going through a mini-crisis (ok, there were TWO mini-crises). At this particular moment, I was mixing up the wet ingredients for pancakes. My phone rings - it's my mom - I pass the phone off to the children, still intent on mixing up the pancake batter. Two of my children start to argue about whose turn it is to talk to Mema next. One of my children runs into a wall. One of them wants to know when the pancakes are going to be ready and do I have the heart-shaped pancake maker-thingy????
At that particular second, I dropped the bowl of WET ingredients. No, not just that - I dropped the bowl of WET ingredients down in between the stove and the cabinet. Yup. In between.
I started crying.
I look over at my son, who *really* wants his heart-shaped pancakes (and was probably worried his neurotic mother would give-up and throw some dry cereal at him) calmly starts whispering:
"Shhh, shhh, Momma, it's okay. It was an accident. Remember, Momma, remember....just breathe"
(a nice calming technique we taught him when he used to freak out about EVERYTHING).
and breathe I did ~ my children eventually got heart-shaped pancakes ~ I eventually got to talk to my mother ~ and everything was fine...until the next crisis. (it's the hormones, right?!? Is this what happens to me *every* time I get pg?? - don't answer that, Dean....)

p.s. the other mini-crisis today involved apple juice, poop, and ice water......but I won't bore you with the details....~Lori




