At 3 o'clock this morning, I woke up to hear a sobbing Leah calling for me. "I had an accident!" She made it to the bathroom, but that was about it. Oh god. I hustled her into the shower and scooped up her pajamas and the bathmats and threw them in the washer, grabbed her one of my t-shirts, and tucked her back into bed. Then, of course, I couldn't sleep, plus the upstairs reeked, so I wasn't back to sleep till 4:30 or so. We all slept late, and I dropped the baby off with the sitter (I figured he needed to be out of the line of fire), and took poor Leah to the Acme to get ginger ale, saltines, and Jello.

Came back to the house to find the dog had puked in the dining room.

SO. I got Leah tucked into my bed with her special blankets and a stack of movies. I puttered around, doing my thing, distributing Tylenol and Imodium and ginger ale, scrubbing rugs, and totally not eating at all, because, gah. Around lunchtime, she said she wanted soup. Sure thing! Chicken noodle soup, coming right up! I opened a red can, dumped in some water, turned on the stove, and went to sit in the living room for a couple of minutes.

Whereupon I promptly fell asleep. For over an hour. Good thing the smoke alarm works!

The pan was ruined, my house still smells like burnt popcorn, and poor Leah was up there for over an hour with no lunch at all.

It gets better! It's the third week she's missed her dance class (the previous two were for her brother's birthday and the pictures), so theyc alled to see if she dropped out, and then, despite the reminder call, the PTA had to drop off my cookie dough because I totally forgot about it, and they had no place to store it. I am Mother of the Year today.