If you can't laugh at yourself....

This pie pretty much sums up my day yesterday, which consisted of a slap across the face, a trip to the ER and a pie gone oh-so-wrong.

You can't tell in this picture, but it's chocolate soup. But, lets start at the beginning....

I knew yesterday was going to be a big day. I was volunteering to help with the children at Bible Study Fellowship in the morning, hair appointment in the afternoon and I was hosting Book Club at my house that night. All fun things, although as I read this I sound about as fun as a librarian. Listen, once you get to a certain age and then have babies, things like "book club" start sounding like a wild girls night out.

At Bible Study, I helped in the infant room and got to be with Vivienne. It was so sweet to see how much these women put into loving and preparing for the children. During play time, we circled up the babies (infant-12 mos) read them a Bible story, prayed and sang some hymns. When the leader said "God is great and I am small," I'm not sure what came over me, but I was choking back tears. It was so sweet to look at these little faces looking and listening quietly in a circle. I had no idea they had lesson plans for infants!

Sweet, right? Yup. Until it was time to go.

Barrett was throwing a monster-sized fit, arching back, red face, screaming, squirming. As I picked him up and looked at his teacher with that look that says--I'm so embarrassed, this doesn't usually happen, but we both know that's not exactly true--Barrett cracked me. SLAP! Right across my face. And, while I was still looking at the teacher, I SCREAMED. Right in her face. Oh brother.

Fast forward--Got to my parents house. Laid both kids down for a nap, had a really nice lunch with my mom and headed out to get my hair done. Feeling pretty lucky and happy. Loved my new hair stylist and her price. Double win.

After we got back to my house, I was in pre-party mode. And by that I mean, I was on a mission to feed, bathe, bottle and put the babies down so I could get ready for book club. I had moved Vivienne's bouncy chair to the bathroom so she could be with Barrett and I while I bathed him. So, I set her down on the couch while Barrett and I looked out the window to wave to the neighbors pulling in the driveway.

That's when I heard, crack-thud. Vivienne was on the floor, after smacking her head on the coffee table. Which won us a first-class ticket to the Emergency Room.

I screamed bloody-murder, which got both Barrett and Vivienne into a siren-sounding wailing contest. As I crouched hugging both babies, I thought "

I'm so frightened, I can't be the mom," but I just called 911 and collected my thoughts from there.

After the ER nurses, janitorial staff, and front desk women ooo-ed and aah-ed over Vivienne, the Doctor gave us the green light to come home. Vivienne is as good-as-knew this morning. I still feel like an A+ mom. Ugh.

We actually got home in time for Book Club! Amazing book, "The Help." Since I had my hair done, house clean, and my chocolate pie -- I did not want to reschedule. It was on. The pie I made was a big piece of the book (no pun intended) and it was the ACTUAL recipe from the 1950s. The directions said stuff like "set-up in a cool place, like a plug-in refrigerator"-- I got such a kick out of it! I had been emailing for weeks about this pie to entice my fellow bookworms to come out. And when it came time to cut the pie, it was soup. I quickly reviewed all the directions, yes, yes, yes, YES. I did these all. What on earth happened. I think it had something to do with the cornstarch.

Pie was a total flop. Aside from the belly laughter everyone got from this ridiculous mess.

But, as everyone was laughing in my kitchen...and I knew Vivienne was okay....and I know Barrett and I will work on the slapping-in-the-face thing, it hit me. It all doesn't matter.

If I couldn't laugh at myself....yesterday would have been a whole lot harder to tolerate, although I still hate getting things wrong.