crying over spilt milk…

…and not just any milk.

Special steamed milk from 4bucks, with two pumps of mocha and two shots of espresso.


And I was really moving one foot in front of the other on this rainy Monday. I went from putting clothes away in my bedroom, bathing Mr. C, cleaning the bathroom while he bathed and bathed (for over an hour!) took Dboy and Mr. C out to find a tree (stay tuned!) and with each of the parts there was a beginning and end, therefore transition, therefore a tantrum. (I won’t name names.) Holding it together I was heading toward a stoplight—I gave myself a green one and kept driving towards a well deserved cup of mocha goodness.

Something to know about me, (we all have our coffee rituals don’t we?) when I start to feel that light weight of the cup—meaning there might only be 4-5 good sips left—I start to feel a bit down. Grieving that the end is ever close.

This time I ordered it extra hot and was taking smaller sips to elongate the process, dreaming of what I would do with this jolt of energy. Getting home, I have 2/3 of the tank left, meaning another hour of joy. I set my hot cup safely on the kitchen counter and start surveying the Monday scene around here.

I then hear an innocent “ut-oh.”

It was too late. There was nothing left to salvage.

Not only was I not sipping it, I was now wiping it up.

Another tantrum ensued (I won’t name names). There was a ramble of under-the-breath-murmurs that translated something to the effect of “Ughgh!! How         *(#&%, I     come on! Give a        #*(%& break.      so          irritated! Seriously        not                 I                           believe this!”

I’ve gotta go get a kleenex.

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  1. Posted November 29, 2010 at 4:50 pm | Permalink

    I am crying with you. I actually am. Because sometimes those little things are the biggest things, and that one-hour of hot goodness in a cup was a big little thing. It kind of represents a lot.

    Like how much you do and how much you let go for the little lives you care for.

    And I’m noticing I don’t see words like, “Why you little —— do you have any idea —- ?! shame on you!” I also know that if those words came out, which can so happen in those moments, you would know how to clean that mess up as well. And you would.

    You are an amazing mom, and you deserved that mocha. Sorry you didn’t get to enjoy it, friend.

  2. Emily
    Posted November 29, 2010 at 5:03 pm | Permalink

    Wow – Gee – I guess no, I didn’t ream out the small child. Ok. That is something. And that is one less mess to clean up today.

    Thanks for the words of encouragement. It’s not liquid encouragement – no – but it is a mood lifter and it seems to be something I needed today.

    Thank you Julie.

  3. Jen Eck
    Posted November 30, 2010 at 6:27 am | Permalink

    No words…just a whole lotta love comin’ your way friend!!

  4. Posted November 30, 2010 at 2:19 pm | Permalink

    So so sad!!! I can’t believe the guilt I am feeling reading this while drinking a mocha (decaf though). I hope by now you’ve had a redemptive one! By the way, I haven’t had a mocha in like YEARS until the last week. I’m so in trouble because they are sooo good. However, I only ordered a tall and it’s already cold. Do I always have to say extra hot? I’m just catching on to what I hear you say all the time. What’s up with that?

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