Compassion.

I had a rough day on Friday for reasons I'm not interested in delving into on a blog (you've heard of Dooce and being Dooced, right?) though in the interest of clarity I will share I was not dooced, I just don't want to delve into things that could get me dooced. Let's just say I'd been looking forward to things happening on Friday and my expectations far exceeded my reality. So after work I headed over to my in-laws' house to meet up with my husband and kids and eat dinner, and I was definitely in a funk. Add to my funk the fact I was on day 2 of a cold, which always and without fail makes me more emotional and sensitive, and it was a recipe for a breakdown, but it was a breakdown that had to be put on pause until I was alone.

Except that 'being alone' is hard to come by when you have two kids, and by the time Luca begged to ride home with me and not her daddy, I was wound so tightly I felt like a spring about to burst and shoot across the room.

I decided to treat myself to coffee and chocolate cake from a little coffee shop near our house, so Luca and I stopped and went inside to order. The shop is right off a man-made lake, and usually we go to a restaurant in the same plaza and let Luca and Rohan go see the ducks by the lake. But seeing as how it was almost 8 pm and the only thing by the lake was coffee-drinking chain smokers, when she asked to go see the lake I said no. And then, I said no to that same request approximately 17 more times in the 10 minutes we were in the coffee shop. I kept my cool, loaded her and the drinks in the car, and then fielded no less than 6 requests to hand her the chocolate milk I'd bought her so she could drink it, all answered with a "You may have it when we get home." and by this point I was not even out of the parking lot yet.

And, I lost it. Big, ugly tears started to stream down my face and my congested nose was running and there were tissues in piles and I said to Luca, "Sweetie, mama is having a tough night and needs you to just not talk right now please, ok?"

Being the sweet and sensitive soul she is, Luca replied from the backseat, "Ohhhh, mama. Don't be saaaaad, mama. I'm sorrrrry mama."

I thanked her and continued to cry, trying to focus on the road ahead. I wanted to be alone to break down, but at the same time I was glad for a compassionate soul so near me. She was silent and gave me space to be emotional and sad and a snot-nosed mess.

And then, from the backseat, "Mommy?"

And me, figuring she had something really sweet and endearing to say, "Yes, baby?"

"Um, the booger I just ate tasted like a corn chip. Isn't that crazy?"