It is official. I have lost my grip on control in my life. I stood in my kitchen this morning making breakfast for my two small children and my daughter asks for toast. I reach for the bread and my son chimes in that he too would like a slice of toast; with jelly, no butter, and not too burnt. The slices go in the toaster and I start packing lunches for school. The toaster starts to buzz and I pull out the toast and prepare it just as requested. My daughter starts in with the complaining. Her toast is too burnt and the butter is all melted. She is rather whiny and goes on and on until her brother starts to chime in. I bend down and proceed to tell my daughter that she is an example for her little brother and I count on her to make good decisions to show him the right choices. My points were brilliantly made even while holding a butter knife with peanut butter and a smear of jelly on the handle. In my head I was praising myself on my cool demeanor and my positive way of conveying my brilliant motherly counsel. After looking me in the eyes and listening patiently I finished and my daughter says. "Mommy that took an awful long time to tell me, my toast is even more soggy now and I think that the right choice would be to make another piece for me."
I made more toast.