A Helping Hand to Crazy

This is it. The last night of Christmas vacation. Tomorrow starts the daily grind of early mornings, coffee before I can see straight, showers, breakfast, lunches, backpacks, and "good-bye, have a good day, I'll see you when I get home." In preparation for the upcoming return to madness I decided to make jell-o and pudding for the kids to take in their lunches. Somehow I feel better about making the stuff myself instead of buying the way over priced pre-packaged stuff from Wal-Mart. Anyway, so I am very busy laboring hard holding my newly purchased hand mixer (the old one finally gave up after fifteen and a half years of service) when my middle child asks me what I am doing (duuuhhhh!) So I give her my usual answer, "Going crazy." To which she replies (obviously not hearing my witty answer to her question), "Can I help." My husband who is busy looking at different shelf designs to build in the garage interrupts his research project an pipes in, "You mother does not need any help going crazy!" Truer words were never spoken. I have not met a mother yet who needed any extra help on her way to crazy.