Yesterday was like any other school day.
Once my girls are up and dressed, we head downstairs for breakfast. This morning P. requested Mommy's crunchy cereal. The girls selected their bowls and I served up two bowls of crunchy cereal and milk.
The girls are at an age where they want, desire, fight for independence.
"I do it."
"I wanna do it . . . by myself!"
"No! Me do."
Mornings are busy, and this is one of those times I let them practice this sense of independence so that I can accomplish a few tasks. We cram a lot during a short amount of time before we zip out of the house to go so school.
I run around grabbing hair ties and clips, throwing my lunch together, grabbing this, emptying the dishwasher, getting that, eating my breakfast, searching for this and that, shoving on boots -- all the while trying not to feel rushed!
As we went about our busy morning, conversing about the day ahead of us, I stepped out of the kitchen area to gather my bags and then I heard it --
C R A S H !
All was quiet. I took a deep breath. I could only imagine the splattering of milk and soggy cereal.
I know some mornings, being in a hurry, I would have shared my thinking bubbles (right, Chris?), but I remained calm and accepted it for what it was: an accident.
As I cleaned the floor, M. whimpered while P. directed me to clean the milk over here and over there. I reassured M. that it was an accident and talked about being more careful.
The bonus? I have a clean floor and we still were not late for school.