on counting to ten

It's one of "those" days. I haven't slept in I don't know how long. The girls were once again up at an ungodly hour. A trip to the gym only made me even more tired. The kids had a play date that got canceled and were cooped inside all afternoon. The husband has been gone and his high tech TV/stereo/music player computer thingy has officially become my new enemy. The art bin got dumped out, the couch got colored on while I was in the bathroom (bad mama! how dare I actually try to pee in peace?!?!), and my curtains are now in need of laundering again because of sunflower seed butter.

Plus, we were out of bread.

So...why not entertain the troops by mixing up a batch? Normally, they like to stand by the bowl and watch the yeast bloom. Not today. Today, Emily pulled my favorite glass bowl (that I put the dough in while it rises) off the counter and smashed it to the floor. A thousand tiny glass pieces scattered everywhere. I got the broom and started sweeping. It went everywhere...to the living room, down the hall, and even into the bathroom. Mind you, I'd just swept up from the post lunch mess. Hey, I told myself, at least this probably means that I won't have to sweep again until tomorrow.

That's when I looked up to see Ava dumping the entire salt cellar into the yeast mixture. Needless to say, in my haste to run and spoon as much salt out as I could, I stepped on a piece of glass and now have a nice cut on the bottom of my foot.

And that was the last of the yeast.

Well, I told myself, at least I can put those deep breathing exercises from childbirth class to use. Too bad I can't put my husband's bonus to use and buy a one way ticket to Fiji. Instead, I have to put it to use to *gasp* buy bread.